abrightboy | Happily Ever After AU

abrightboy

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From:

abrightboy

“I’m standing,” Malcolm points out. “I can stand.”

He puts his hand over Neal’s on the peas.

“Oh you found the peas.”

From:

conning

"I found the peas," Neal agrees dryly. "And you're going to sit so I don't have to catch you if you suddenly can't stand."

From:

abrightboy

“It’s not that bad,” Malcolm insists. “Don’t treat me like a child,” he insists, hand shifting from the ice pack to steady himself on Neal’s arm.

From:

conning

"Malcolm please!" Neal's voice breaks, and he doesn't expect it any more than he expected the shout. He forces it back and down and gets a hold on himself. "I'm not treating you like a child. You got pushed down an elevator shaft. Three stories up."

From:

abrightboy

Malcolm flinches at the outburst, eyes going wide for a second, then he looks down at Neal's chest and nods faintly at the next point.

"Can I have a chair?" he asks in a low voice, moving his hand from Neal's arm to the counter.

From:

conning

"Of course," Neal whispers, stomach knotting with a blend of anxieties he doesn't have the fortitude to pick apart at the moment. He hovers for a moment, mentally switching tracks between which chair to get and why, before he finally settles on one of the bar stools at the island and shifts it into Malcolm's space. "Is this okay? Do you want the couch, or--oh, you meant in the shower."

Well now he feels stupid and guilty.

From:

abrightboy

He nods, again faintly because his head does hurt.

"I don't want to sit on the floor." It's cold. "Anything is fine."

From:

conning

"Okay. Yeah." Neal lifts his hands in a nervous gesture to run them through Malcolm's hair, but catches himself. "Yeah. I can bring it in there."

He touches Malcolm's cheek. "I'm sorry."

From:

abrightboy

Malcolm looks confused for a moment. "Sorry for what?" he asks.

From:

conning

"For snapping like that," Neal says quietly. "You're hurt. It's bad enough that Dani and JT didn't seem to care. You get to care."

He works on the buttons of Malcolm's shirt with unsteady fingers. "Let's get you cleaned up."

From:

abrightboy

"They care," Malcolm says looking up at Neal from under his brow. "They're the best friends I've ever had."

He watches Neal's face.

"You're scared. I'm not going to die," he promises.

From:

conning

“You could have,” Neal whispers. “Very easily.”

He rests his fingertips against Malcolm’s now partially-bare chest so he can feel the man’s heartbeat. “You could have. You could have been in critical condition. There was no way to know while we were there.”

From:

abrightboy

"But we know now," he points out softly. "We do know now."

From:

conning

“We know now.” Neal’s voice rises again a little, though there’s no frustration in it this time. Not with Malcolm. “We didn’t when JT said he needed a damn statement.”

From:

abrightboy

"Oh. That. Well. I insisted I was okay," Malcolm points out weakly. "I usually go right back to work when... things happen in the field."

See? It's all Malcolm's fault.

From:

conning

Neal makes a little noise that doesn’t do very well as a laugh. “They should know better than to let you.”

As though Peter would have any luck with him in that situation.

“They at least should have… made sure you were actually okay.”

From:

abrightboy

"I mean... I guess there's no precedent for this. The last time I fell three stories, I landed on Gil's car, which... the car crumpled and absorbed a lot of the impact. The bottom of the elevator shaft didn't. I don't feel good," he admits. "I just. Don't want to sleep."

From:

conning

"The l... the last time? Did they... they took you to the hospital, though, right?"

He forces himself to focus on Malcolm's buttons again, undoing the last of them and moving to pull the shirt down off Malcolm's shoulders gently. "We don't have to sleep. I can read to you. We can watch a movie. Something."

A pause, then, "What's wrong? Why don't you want to sleep? Other than... sleep being what it is."

From:

abrightboy

"Oh," he waves off the hospital suggestion. "I was fine. My suit got dirty. I missed my flight. But I had another suit in my bag."

He watches Neal's face when he asks about the sleep.

"I was trapped. Down there. But not down there." He gestures to his temple. "In here."

From:

conning

"You were f...." Neal closes his eyes, shakes his head, decides not to fight that particular battle right now.

He exhales a horrified little breath of understanding as Malcolm goes on. He hadn't even thought of that. He hadn't even considered it. He'd been so focused on everything else, injury-wise. "Well. You're here now. You're safe."

From:

abrightboy

“You’re safe,” Malcolm tells him. “You were even safe in there. Except…” His voice trails off. He shrugs. “Anyway I think this suit’s a write off. Worse than the white one from last time, which is the real crime.”

From:

conning

Neal blinks, surprised in spite of himself. “You dreamed about me?”

From:

abrightboy

"I dreamed about everyone I know. But you were the most... the same as you are," Malcolm explains.

From:

conning

Neal blinks, a pang of worry making him say with mock-cheerfulness, “I can’t decide if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”

He guides Malcolm toward the bathroom, trying not to linger too long on the bruises darkening his back.