abrightboy | No One's Born Broken

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No One's Born Broken

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tinstar.

Gil came and went. Dani came and went. Ainsley came and then left with their mother, who refused to even hear him out about telling the truth. He stared through the window at the motionless man in the bed for some indeterminate amount of time, his hand clutching his phone in his pocket.

Finally he let his eyes leave the figure through the window and he took his phone out of his pocket. He stared at that for a long moment, then scrolled through his contacts until one name rolled onto the screen: Raylan Givens.

He looked through the window, then looked at the name. Then he pressed it.

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There was no use pretending otherwise or hedging any bets. Raylan, as much as his brain wanted to scream caution, was sure in his gut that they would actually make it out of their respective situations to Miami. This couldn't end the same way it had before..

Raylan nodded softly. "We've uh.. been making plans for Miami. Between the Marshal's service and the MDPD-" Miami-Dade Police, for those keeping track at home. "- He'll be able to find the same kind of work. I don't think he'll ever really do anything else and be as satisfied as he is here..

You're gonna have to come visit, once we get settle. Maybe bring Jessica down to prove that we can get him on a beach, eventually."

Gil chuckled.

"Told you about his 'vacation', huh? God, his mother was mortified. She hoped he was joking. I was pretty sure he wasn't. He didn't want to go in the first place."

"Never heard of someone so mortified that they didn't hit a pool before," Raylan replied with a pull of his smile. "I've also got a daughter that I've got joint custody of. Between us and his work, I think we can keep him busy. And if not, maye we send him back up to help you with something. There always seems to be something terrible happening up here, but Miami's just as bad. Still, not bad to have back up plans."

Gil nodded.

"It is going to hurt our solve rate when he's gone," he sighed. That was the lowest thing on his list, but it did exist. No point pretending otherwise. Malcolm was good at the job, even when the job was bad for him.

"How old is your daughter?"

It probably hurt the FBI's solve rate too.

"Only seven months. Not old enough to get messed up yet." Despite the self deprecation, there was a light that came into Raylan's smile for the mention of it. "Too little yet to know if she's gonna take after me or her mother but she is pretty cute." He'd show a picture if he had one on him but he didn't.

"Wow, she's young," Gil noted. "I take it things didn't work out with her mother," he assumed.

Gil had a wedding ring on his hand, but hadn't mentioned his marriage. Still, he could relate to the ups and downs of relationships.

"Has she met Malcolm? Is she going to be okay with him being around the baby?"

Not everybody took to Malcolm straight off the hop; Gil often introduced him as an acquired taste.

Raylan nodded slightly, eyebrows lifting a little in concession behind a self deprecating pull of his smile. "More or less," he agreed, opting to not elaborate. He hadn't even told Malcolm all of it yet; he wasn't sure there was a point. Raylan didn't need or want the pity or the sympathy. It was all too much.

"She hasn't, but Winona knows I wouldn't allow anyone around Willa that would cause her harm. And even if Malcolm wouldn't on purpose, I'm not naive enough to think there might not be an underlying.. compulsion that none of us knows about but I trust him enough to communicate back. She doesn't need to know about all that right off."

Gil nodded.

"Malcolm wouldn't harm anyone. Certainly not anyone who couldn't protect themselves," he confirmed.

Like a baby.

"So when are these big plans supposed to happen?" Gil asked. "How long have we got?"

Raylan nodded again and took a deep breath before he answered.

"Couple of months at least? At least for me. I know that Malcolm's got.. answers he's still trying to get out of Martin. But once I get Boyd Crowder in jail for good, I can leave Kentucky and not go back. Even then, we've got plans to come back up here during hurricane season too."

So Malcolm would not be gone forever.

Gil nodded. "Maybe I'll have something to keep him busy. That's a few months a year, right?"

Raylan chucked. "I'm sure you will. Plus, we're both crazy if we think Jessica will let him stay out of New York for more than few months at a time without coming to visit. And, if its any consolation, I'd also bet on Malcolm calling you over cases right back."

"When he lived in DC, he used to call me when he didn't have a case to work on. He wanted to know what I was working on. He wanted to know what was going on in New York." Gil smiled faintly. "My wife always called him on holidays because she was worried about him being alone and she wouldn't let us talk shop."

The chuckle spread to a half pulled grin, tempered only by what Raylan was picking up on and slipping down into something more respectful as his brow furrowed a little.

"Is that something you think's likely to continue?" There was never any good way to ask if your wife had passed on, no polite southern way to approach that subject, but that's what he was sensing. He'd noted the wedding ring and assumed that he knew what that meant. Maybe he was wrong.

Gil shook his head. "She passed away three years ago," he explained. He smiled faintly. "She used to pick him up from school so he didn't have to walk past the reporters waiting outside their house. She'd bring him to our place and help him with his homework. I'm not sure he actually needed it, but he'd always give her his full attention."

Gil looked from his cup to Raylan. "He jumps into everything like it's a landmine under a corpse. Don't let him get himself killed. It's a tall order. He will not call for backup ninety percent of the time."

He nodded. Having gone through a couple of funerals, he had always hated hearing 'Sorry for your loss' as well meaning as it was. It tore open wounds that were already cracking from telling at all. Instead, he let his face convey that as he listened.

Another nod was given, just to show that he understood.

"Would you be against me callin' you for advice on him if I get stuck? I can chase him down, wherever he runs off into." Marshal's Service and all. "But chasin' down and handlin' are two different things. I could use the expertise."

Gil looked at him a moment like he was checking whether he was making a joke.

He wasn't.

Gil smiled a little. "If you think it'll help, sure. Though based on how he's been since you started coming around, you're doing fine."

He wasn't at all.

Raylan couldn't help the little scoff and self-deprecating tone as he replied. "Yeah well, My luck the way it is, who knows when that'll change. I appreciate the back-up, regardless. Will you let me pay for lunch?"

"It's always good to have backup. Now, if you can get Bright to live by that motto..."

He glanced at his empty plate and nearly empty cup. "Sure." He guessed that was something Bright didn't let him get away with much, either. "Do you want to wait for him at the office or are you going to see some sights or something?"

He huffed another breath. "That might take a few years of work." If he was even successful at all.

Gil would be guessing right and Raylan looked almost grateful as he nodded his head in acknowledgement before shaking it.

"No, I think I'm going to wait back at his place. Only downside of all this is that I'm strapped into the same sleep schedule, and after some 24 hours of being up, three and a half hours ain't gonna cut it." Frankly, he needed a nap. "I'm gonna have to catch my Z's where I can get 'em."

Reaching into his pocket, Raylan pulled out his card and handed it to Gil. "Just in case something happens to him or his phone."

Gil accepted it, reaching into his own jacket to hand his card to Raylan.

"Same," he said, holding it out. "It was nice... meeting you properly."

Raylan took Gil's card in return and tucked it into his inner jacket pocket before he grabbed his hat and slid it on, nodding a little at Gil with it, face curling back into his normal affability.

"You mean not on a case? I'd say this was a rare chance, but I have a feelin' we'll be seein' more of each other. Nice to meet you too, properly." He slid out of his seat and started towards the counter but stopped, one finger lazily hanging at his hip as he pointed at Gil.

"When you come down to Florida, you'll have to let me know if you like poker." Clapping him lightly on the shoulder, Raylan made his way to the counter and got their check, paying and tipping before he and his hat hit the door.

Twenty minutes later, Raylan was letting himself into Malcolm's apartment and collapsing on Malcolm's bed after hanging his hat and jacket. Yeah, definitely time for a nap. Lunch helped.

Malcolm had returned to the precinct with the team, plan in place to visit the funeral directors' conference the next day. In the meantime, there were still a couple of hours before Raylan had said he had to leave. He'd glanced around at the precinct, though he didn't ask, until Gil stepped past him, quietly pointing out "Givens went back to your place," and clapping him on the shoulder.

He headed home.

He let himself in the door, looking around, anxiety fluttering slightly just under the surface until he spotted him, because there was always a chance, if he couldn't see him, that he'd missed him somehow and he was gone.

Now that he wasn't dead tired, Raylan was much more clearly able to hear the door open and shut, and still it took him several seconds to stir with a deep breath. Pushing up a little, Raylan looked over his shoulder, registered Malcolm and grunted as he rolled himself over, boots hanging unevenly off the bed.

"You're back," he observed, one hand lazily lifting to gesture him over. "C'mere."

Malcolm couldn't help the visible relief that ebbed tension out of him as he saw Raylan there, as Raylan registered him there, as he beckoned Malcolm over.

Malcolm went more than willingly, kicking off his shoes before stepping up onto the platform and crawling onto the bed next to Raylan. Malcolm put an arm around him, just to feel his solidity and tipped his face closed to Raylan's face just to feel his breath.

"You're still here," he finally replied.

Raylan kept his hand up, only moving it so Malcolm could crawl up onto him before wrapping his arms around his shoulders, holding him silently as his lips turned to rest on Malcolm's forehead.

"Told ya I wasn't leavin' without sayin' goodbye," he murmured, hand rubbing gently over Malcolm's shoulder. "Missed ya. How'd the case go?"

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