abrightboy | Happily Ever After AU

abrightboy

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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.

From:

abrightboy

Malcolm looks at him over his shoulder, almost hitting the shower doorway with his shoulder.

"It wasn't bad. I just knew he wasn't you. In the end."

From:

conning

“Somehow: not reassuring.” He sits Malcolm on the closed toilet for a moment to go and retrieve a chair that won’t get ruined being under a shower, carefully positioning it and making sure it won’t slide around when Malcolm goes to sit down. He’s being neurotic. He knows he’s being neurotic. But he can’t stand it, the thought of losing this, losing them. He comes back to Malcolm, looking him over with worry.

“Do you need help to finish undressing? I can help.”

From:

abrightboy

Malcolm looks up at him, still a little dazed, then looks down at his belt.

"Um yeah. Maybe... yeah."

From:

conning

Neal helps him up again, unfastening the belt, going through the motions without comment or complaint. "Tell me about it?"

On the one hand, it's meant as a distraction. On the other, Neal is genuinely, wildly curious.

From:

abrightboy

"About... the dream?" Malcolm verifies. He frowns faintly. "I should have known it was wrong but you never know when you're in a dream that it's messed up."

From:

conning

That makes him even more curious. He guides Malcolm into the shower, turning the water on to a warm and gentle setting. "How did you figure it out? Who the Bowery Ripper was? Did you see him when he pushed you?"

From:

abrightboy

“No. I just saw his boot prints. It was just… a bunch of clues my brain put together.” He watches Neal for a moment while he adjusts the water.

“We were married.”

From:

conning

Neal looks at him, wide-eyed. "We were? I can't imagine your NYPD associates were very happy about that."

A tiny smile from Neal, though. An almost shy half-joke. "Maybe you should tell them about it. Give them a little exposure therapy, or whatever it's called."

From:

abrightboy

“They were fine with it. It was normal. For my family, too. My dad wasn’t a killer. You were friends with him,” Malcolm says.

From:

conning

He's wetting a washcloth to start cleaning some of the grime from Malcolm's shoulders and arms when Malcolm says that. Neal makes a strangled noise. "We were friends?"

But if his dad wasn't a killer...

Neal's mind flicks to James, his own fragile hopes and doubts. He shakes his head, wringing out the cloth and adding a little soap to start wiping Malcolm down. Gently. He's got scrapes everywhere, and where there aren't scrapes, there are bruises. "I think we won't be doing anything that married people do for a while. Not until you've had plenty of opportunity to recover."

From:

abrightboy

Malcolm, with a head injury, is a little bit stupider than normal. He looks at Neal with some confusion and, when he hits a particularly tender spot, a bit of a wince.

"You mean like adopting?"

From:

conning

Neal fumbles the soap in his surprise, managing to catch it, lather up the cloth a little, and place it back in its dish without letting more than brief surprise show.

"Did... in your dream, we had...?"

From:

abrightboy

“We just had the interview,” Malcolm tells him, then pauses. “…That’s not what you were talking about,” he surmises.

From:

conning

"I was thinking about the more immediate and physical," Neal says ironically. He takes extra care as he finishes cleaning the spot that made Malcolm wince. It's hard to tell, a little bit, what's dirt and what's bruise. "...I wouldn't... object to that, though. Adoption. At some point. I think you know that."

From:

abrightboy

“Some part of my brain knows that,” Malcolm agrees. “I must have met you earlier in my ideal reality. For us to be married already.”

From:

conning

"Yeah." Neal half-smiles, sponging a bit of grease away from Malcolm's neck gently. "How do you think it happened? You were at a gallery opening, maybe, and I was casing the place."