Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of this work of fiction, and no profit, monetary or otherwise, is being made through the writing of this.
A/N: Written for cottoncandy_bingo square, relaxation/meditation, and because I just wanted to write a Chin/Danny story. This is non-explicit, and is pre-slash. Spoilers up through season 3 episode 2. This is about moving on after the death of a loved one, and I hope that you feel it is done tastefully.
Feedback would be greatly appreciated. This is a new pairing for me, and I would like to know if I did okay or not, and if the style of writing worked well. Please leave a review and just let me know. Thanks.
Meditation in Five Parts
I.
Chin isn't sure what to make of Danny's sudden interest in joining him for meditation on Mondays. He isn't sure if he buys Danny's excuse, that he's been under a lot of stress recently and wants to learn how to relax. But, he doesn't discourage the detective from joining him, even if it does reek of pity.
That first Monday night, Chin watches the ha'ole, and wonders if he should have discouraged Danny from coming after all. Because, from the onset, with Master Wong's opening words, Danny had scowled, and, even now, after three Mondays of meditation, Chin can tell that the detective is uncomfortable and he wonders why Danny insists on coming when it's obvious that meditation isn't really his thing.
On the fourth Monday, Chin thinks that maybe Danny's joining him has something to do with Kono, and the reason that he only gets to spend two nights out of the week on his own – Wednesdays and Fridays – might be his cousin's doing as well. He isn't stupid. He's a pretty damn good police detective in his own rights, and he's onto them.
He tries not to let it bother him that Kono, Danny and Steve appear to conspiring together to make sure that he isn't left alone for too long, because he knows that they don't mean to hurt him. They're trying to take care of him.
But, he does wonder what his cousin is up to, conscripting Danny to be the one to look after him on Monday nights. His cousin is far more devious than many give her credit for.
II.
Danny isn't really sure what it is that he's doing, or if he's doing it, 'right,' but he takes a deep breath, hold it, gives Chin a quick smile, that he hopes does not betray how nervous he feels, even though it's his fourth time here. He lets out the breath that he's been holding, and closes his eyes.
"Concentrate on your breathing," the instructor, er, Master Wong, says.
Even with his eyes closed, Danny's having a hard time concentrating on his breathing. It's Chin that he's worried about. He keeps his eyes closed, however, and he attempts to focus on his breathing.
"Relax," the Master's voice intones.
Danny's body seems to do the exact opposite. The tension starts to build in his stomach, coiling inside of him like a snake readying itself to strike. From there it spreads to his chest, then his shoulders, and then to his back.
"Let go of all of your tension, your worries, and just breathe," the Master's voice sounds like it's coming from just above where Danny is seated, cross-legged, on the mat that Kono had helped him purchase when he and she had concocted this plan to keep a closer eye on Chin, to make sure that he isn't alone.
Danny has Monday nights. Kono, Tuesdays and Thursdays. Steve usually covers the weekends, inviting all of them over for barbecues and what not. Wednesdays and Fridays are left free, because, otherwise, Chin might catch onto them, and they don't really want that. Not when all they're trying to do is help him.
Though he knows he shouldn't, Danny cracks an eye open. After three sessions, he knows the drill, that once Master Wong, a tiny Chinese man, has started speaking, his eyes are supposed to remain closed until the end of the session. He can't help it though. He doesn't like not knowing where everyone is, and the thought that the Master might be hovering above him, watching him, is more than a little unsettling, and he can't relax.
He doesn't see Master Wong though, but he does get a glimpse of Chin – hands, palm up, resting on his knees, eyes closed, lips slightly parted – the man looks more relaxed than Danny has seen him in a long time. Not since he lost Malia.
Smiling, Danny attempts to copy Chin's relaxed pose, his knees bumps his friend's in his eagerness, but Chin doesn't even flinch. He maintains his relaxed pose as though he hasn't even felt Danny's knee touch his. After a few seconds of watching, just to make sure that Danny hasn't messed Chin's meditation up, he closes his eye.
Instead of focusing on his own breathing as Master Wong's voice indicates that he and everyone present should do, Danny finds himself concentrating on Chin's breathing, and finds himself getting lost in the even in-out rhythm that Chin maintains as Master Wong drones on. Danny no longer even hears Master Wong's voice; he's so attuned to the rhythm of Chin's breathing, noting every hitch and irregularity, like he did when Grace was a baby and he'd been half-terrified that she would stop breathing in her sleep if he wasn't listening to make sure that she didn't. He doesn't know when it happens, but his breathing soon matches Chin's and it just feels, 'right.'
He's surprised when the session's over and he feels Chin's hand on his knee, squeezing.
"Hey, Danny," Chin's voice is like a jolt of electricity, and Danny opens his eyes. "Meditation's over."
Danny blinks in the bright light that had been turned off when Master Wong had started leading them in their meditation. Chin's smile is a little less forced than it had been an hour ago, and Danny feels some of the tension bleed from his shoulders, his own smile comes a little easier.
III.
After a couple of months of being 'babysat', Chin thinks that maybe he should let on that he knows what they're doing, but Danny's smiling at him and jingling his car keys in his pocket as he offers to drive them to Monday meditation with Master Wong, and Chin can't bring himself to say anything. Not right now. Not when Danny's looking at him like that – blue eyes lit up with humor and anticipation and something completely unidentifiable.
"I can't believe it's already my tenth session," Danny says, and there's no mistaking the wonder in the detective's voice, "if my family could see me now…"
"They'd be surprised?"
"And then some," Danny says.
"Well, I'm proud of you," Chin says, and he means it, even though he knows that Kono was behind Danny accompanying him on Monday nights, and that it had nothing to do with Danny and everything to do with him.
Danny turns his eyes away from the road, briefly, to look at him, and then he nods, and focuses his gaze straight ahead. "Thank you. I, ah, I couldn't have done it without you."
There's something in Danny's tone that causes Chin to study the man beside him. The muscles along Danny's jawline are taut and his knuckles are gripping the steering wheel so tightly that he'll have to shake his hands out when they reach their destination, less than ten minutes away.
He wants to come clean with Danny, let him know that he's onto their ploy, that Danny doesn't have to pretend anymore. That the detective can stop joining him on Monday nights, because he's okay now. He still misses Malia, but he doesn't see her around every corner, or hear her voice on the wind as often as he used to. Something stops him from saying anything, and, instead, he reaches a hand out and squeezes Danny's shoulder.
"I'm proud of you, Danny," he repeats, and he keeps his hand where it is on Danny's shoulder for a little longer before pulling it away. He wants to make sure that his words sink in, because he isn't sure if the detective hears things like that very often. He doubts the man has heard it much, if ever, since he's followed Grace to Hawaii.
Danny keeps his eyes straight ahead and nods. Chin can see, though, when he looks into the rearview mirror, that the detective's eyes are sparkling, welling with tears.
IV.
Danny feels a little guilty when he grabs his and Chin's bags and mats from the back seat. He knows that he should tell Chin the truth, explain about how he started joining him on Monday nights because of Kono. Her puppy dog eyes had been just as difficult to resist as Grace's, and as it turns out, Steve's, were.
He hopes to god that Chin doesn't have puppy dog eyes as well, then Danny would be thoroughly screwed, because the man has other things which Danny finds difficult to resist, and he really shouldn't be thinking about that right now . . . not when he's going to be spending the next hour and a half sitting next to the man, matching his breathing (unbeknownst to Chin –something else Danny feels guilty about) to Chin's.
"I've got it," Danny says when Chin reaches for his bag and he could kick himself for behaving like such a male chauvinist, but Chin just shrugs like it's no big deal and follows Danny into the building.
His apology for behaving like Steve dies on his lips and he silently hands Chin his bag and mat when they enter Master Wong's studio. They both settle in next to each other, as usual, except Danny's palms are sweaty and his heart is beating a mile a minute, and he doesn't really understand why.
Chin chats with a few of the other regulars, and Danny finds himself watching the man, nodding and smiling when others acknowledge him. He feels as tense as when he first started joining Chin, and that can't be a good thing.
When Master Wong starts running them through their usual Monday routine, Danny finds it even more difficult to concentrate than he did his very first time, and he can't seem to take his eyes off of Chin. If it bothers the detective, he doesn't let on that it does. He just smiles at Danny, and closes his eyes when Master Wong tells them to. Danny waits until the lights are doused before he closes his eyes.
"Concentrate on your breathing," Master Wong instructs, "let go of everything that is bothering you as you breathe out, and breathe in peace and serenity."
Danny pictures Chin's face even when his eyes are closed, and he tries to breathe out this strange fascination that he has with his teammate, but, if anything, the image grows stronger. And, when he inhales, instead of peace, he's filled with the scent of Chin – ocean's salt and just a touch of cloves.
"Breathe in," Master Wong chants, "breathe out. In . . . out."
Danny's head is spinning, and he tries to focus on Master Wong's voice, because the alternative is unthinkable. But the Master's words fail to guide him as he wants them to, and he's breathing in Chin, and breathing out his peace and serenity – his sanity. And then it hits him like a sucker punch to the gut – he's got a crush on the man that he admires almost more than he admires his father – Danny might even love Chin and that is wrong on so many levels, not the least of which is that Chin just watched the woman that he loved die not even a half a year ago.
Danny's desire to flee is almost overwhelming, but then his knee presses against Chin's and it grounds him, and the tightness in his stomach loosens and he can hear Chin breathing.
'Okay, so maybe I've got a crush on Chin, like I maybe had a crush on Bobby when I was in middle school. I didn't make a fool out of myself then, and I won't now. Chin doesn't even have to know. Take it calm and cool, and just breathe Danny. In and out, Danno, that's it.'
Though it takes him considerably longer than it should, Danny matches his breathing to Chin's and his mind clears, and something like peace settles over him.
By the time the session is over, Danny feels considerably less like panicking, and more at one with himself, and with the universe – something that he'd never thought he'd think, even if he lived to be a hundred years old. He looks over at Chin, and can't help but return his friend's smile. And when he gathers up his mat and bag, and holds out his hand to take Chin's stuff as he'd done earlier, he feels his heart do a little flip-flop in his chest when Chin takes his hand instead, and walks out to the car with him.
"Uh, you wanna go get something to eat?" Danny asks, relinquishing his hold on Chin's hand once they reach the car.
"Yeah, I'd like that." Chin says, but then he stands there long after Danny's opened the door for him, and he looks at the ground as though mulling over something.
The longer that Chin stands there not getting into the car and not looking at him worries Danny, and he thinks, 'Oh crap, he knows.' He opens his mouth to reassure Chin that he won't act on his feelings, but then Chin looks at him and Danny forgets what he was going to say.
"Danny, I know what you and Kono and Steve have been doing for me," Chin says, and his eyes fill with tears, "thank you. I . . . it's helped."
It feels like his breath has been knocked out of him, and it takes a moment for Danny to remember how to breathe again when Chin takes a step toward him and engulfs him in a hug. When his wits come back to him, Danny wraps his arms around Chin and holds him close, only letting go when Chin does.
"Thank you, Danny," Chin says, and then he gets into the car and Danny shuts the door behind him and walks around to the driver's side.
He tries not to think anything of the impromptu hug. He's a very touchy-feely guy; it would stand to reason that Chin would come to him for a hug. There aren't any strings attached to it, but Danny finds himself wishing that there were strings attached, and that the hug would mean a little more to Chin than just a hug from Danny, the ha'ole who is given to hugging when an occasion warrants one.
He doesn't say, 'You're welcome,' because it isn't necessary. He puts the car into drive and stops when Chin points out a place to eat. Dinner's a subdued affair, and Danny can't help but compare the relatively quiet conversation he has with Chin to some of the more volatile and vociferous conversations he's had with Steve. Things are different with Chin; he can let his guard down and relax, and breathe.
V.
Chin isn't sure why he's nervous when Danny drops him off after dinner, but he sits in the car a little too long after Danny's pulled into his drive, and before he realizes it, the detective's opening the passenger's door for him and walking him up to his door. Everything's pointing to this being a date and Chin's throat closes up as he's reminded of Malia. He loved her, still does.
"Danny, I . . ." he doesn't know what to say, doesn't know what to feel, because he's really enjoyed Danny's company these past few months, and he doesn't want to ruin anything by saying or doing the wrong thing right now.
"I had a nice time tonight," Danny says, "thank you. And, even though the jig is up, I hope that we can do this again sometime. But, only if you want to. I mean, it's okay if you would rather not spend Monday nights with me, but…"
Though it has been a long time since he's done this, and the memory of Malia's death is still painful and fresh in his mind, Chin silences Danny with a kiss. Even though he misses her, and the loss of her, when he dwells on it, feels like someone's taken a butcher knife to his heart – being with Danny eases some of that pain.
Chin can almost see Malia smiling down on them, and can almost hear her laughter of approval as he breaks off the kiss. It wasn't anything spectacular, and it'll never be written about in the world record's book of best kisses, but it was good and Chin feels a little less lonely afterwards.
Danny looks like he wants to say something, but Chin beats him to it. "Come over for dinner tomorrow night? I'll cook."
He leaves the offer hanging in the air, half-hoping and half-fearing that Danny will accept it. His heart clenches in his chest as he takes this all important step toward accepting that Malia is gone, that the world is still moving, and that he's moving right along with it, like it or not. It hurts, and he wishes to god that Malia was alive, and that he was coming home to find her waiting on the other side of the front door with a kiss and a home cooked meal. But she isn't and Danny's there with this look on his face that kind of makes Chin's heart swell a little.
"Sounds good," Danny says, "see you tomorrow night."
"How's seven sound?" Chin feels a little rusty at this. It's been a long time – a lifetime.
"Seven," Danny repeats. "I'll be here."
And then Chin gives Danny a quick kiss on the cheek before he turns and enters his house. He watches through his front window as Danny walk to his car and then he waits until he can no longer see the taillights of silver Camaro before he turns away and gets ready for bed, thinking of what he's going to make for Danny tomorrow night – lasagna and salad, and bread pudding for dessert.
Chin shakes his head and sighs as he gathers his pillow and bedding to sleep on the couch, because he can't yet bring himself to sleep in the bed that he and Malia shared. "I can't believe it; I'm acting like a teenager."
He falls asleep and dreams of Malia and Danny and Grace. They're having dinner together, laughing and talking story and at some point Malia gets up from the table and stands at the back door and watches them.
She doesn't come when Chin calls her, but whispers, 'Goodbye Chin, I love you, be happy,' and she disappears into the crimson of the sunset, but then Danny reaches for his hand and squeezes it, and Grace smiles and Chin tears his eyes away from the sunset to look at Danny and Grace.
'I think I just might love you Chin Ho Kelly,' Danny says around a mouthful of lasagna, and when Danny kisses him, it doesn't feel like a betrayal to the love of his life. It feels good and it feels right, and Chin thinks that maybe it's okay for him to be alive and to love again.