Neal didn’t expect to fall back asleep. He comes around a little when Malcolm is on the phone, but lets him drift in sleepiness until the conversation ends. He sits up enough to run a hand down Malcolm’s back. “You don’t look happy about whatever they said.”
“The nanny was using a fake name. She has a criminal record in Canada. Assault. She went missing a handful of months ago, according to her husband. He’s looking for her.”
Malcolm looks at Neal over his shoulder.
“It doesn’t make any of this make sense. The missing piece is still missing.”
“Assault is an easy way to write off self-defense, if you get the wrong cop.”
There’s a grim irony in it. Neal rubs his face with one hand. “I think he’s worth looking at. Maybe…”
Maybe. There’s some little something tugging at him that he can’t put his finger on. Something the Malcolm of Mathias said about memories, about the people who have to deal with them. “What if she never intended to take Nina? We assume she did, because the scenario fits an expected pattern made easier to assume by the violent context. But what if she never wanted to steal her?”
“A lot of cops are the wrong cops, when it’s a cool and collected man’s word versus an emotional woman’s word,” Malcolm muses as he sees where Neal is going with that. “But what could she…” He pauses. “The bleeding. What if she was telling the truth about it? It could be a symptom of a larger health problem. Any sort of bleeding disorder would make a pregnancy high risk.”
"If he knows about the baby... if it's his... if he's an abuser... he might feel entitled to the baby. Someone already prone to violence could have easily killed Ezra if he refused him access to his daughter," Malcolm points out.
Neal can’t help it. He feels weirdly exhilarated. They’re figuring this out, solving it, and yes it’s the same kind of rush he gets from conning a con but it’s more than that, too. They’re stopping a killer. Or at least working toward it.
“I understand why you love this,” Neal murmurs. “Before Mathias I don’t think I could have, but I do now.”
That's it. That's exactly it. They're going to save someone, and that person will be really safe. They're going to stop someone dangerous, and that person will be really stopped.
Neal kisses him. "Should we go to the station? What should we do?"
Malcolm nods. "Yeah. Yeah, let's get dressed and go," he agrees, already getting up, then pausing, turning and leaning over to press a kiss to Neal's mouth, then heading over to the closet to choose a suit for the day.
"If he's here, or if he just left here... that will make some pieces fit."
On their way, Gil calls, sending them to a different address—the nanny reached out. Getting there, they find her battered and terrified, and Neal seesaws between rage and heartbreak until Dani sends them off to find Alessa. The abusive husband knows about the baby, all right, and they have to get to Alessa before he can.
It’s so casual, the way Alessa says yes when Malcolm asks her if she trusts them. It takes Neal briefly off-guard, his expression blank with surprise until urgency kicks him back into gear.
Alessa hides Nina, gathers up the faux-baby, draws the bastard out. Malcolm tries to bring him down and loses the advantage. Alessa drops the decoy.
Malcolm hits the ground.
There’s a knife.
Neal goes feral.
When he recognizes his surroundings, Malcolm is tugging a glass ornament out of his hand. There’s blood on it, and on his hand.
“It’s okay,” Malcolm is telling him. “It’s okay now.” He drops the ornament on the floor as Gil and JT rush in, guns drawn. Alessa steps out with Nina in her arms. Malcolm lingers close to Neal.
They have to go back to the precinct. There’s paperwork. And not just police paperwork. He sits Neal at his desk, gets him bad police station hot chocolate then talks to Christine. She’s eager to sign the adoption paperwork to put Nina in Alessa’s care for good. He presents it to Alessa. He talks to JT about Tally’s upcoming pregnancy just a few steps away from where Neal is sitting in Malcolm’s spot.
“But what if I mess him up?” JT is saying. “What if he turns out like you?” he adds with mock horror.
“You’d be lucky,” Neal says, orienting on JT with half-focused ferocity. He has one hand around the hot chocolate mug. Neal rubs his other hand on his pants, has been doing that, like there’s still blood even after Malcolm cleaned him up.
“You’d be really damn lucky and you know it, or you should.”
Neal still glares, irritated. “Not like that, you shouldn’t. That’s not a joke. The way you said it was an insult, and you know that too. It’s not something you can share and laugh about. It’s something you can laugh about that Malcolm spends every day living. And he’s still him, all the good things you’d be lucky to see in your kid.”
He lets go of his irritation, or most of it, feeling squeezed out all over again. Neal looks up at Malcolm, those beautiful eyes. “He’d be a good godparent, too.”
Neal abandons the hot chocolate, starting to take Malcolm’s hand, but he stops himself after a moment and switches hands. Like the other one will leave a ghost of blood on Malcolm somehow.
It doesn’t take very long to get a cab, and on the way out Neal spots Christina, Alessa, and Nina, gathered in a little bubble of human warmth.
Neal rests his face against Malcolm’s shoulder for a moment, then he straightens up again to make sure he doesn’t fall down the stairs.
Malcolm doesn’t say anything on the ride, but he watches.
Once the door to Neal’s apartment closes behind them, Malcolm presses his lips together, reaching out to thread fingers through Neal’s hair at his temple.
Malcolm’s face settles into an intimate understanding of that sentiment.
“He’ll live,” he assures. “He was going to kill us all to take that baby. Take that baby and raise it on abuse. You saved all of us, but especially Nina.” Malcolm takes Neal’s right hand - the one he’s been avoiding touching Malcolm with - and kisses his fingers.
He resists briefly when he realizes what Malcolm is doing, but not too hard. The gentle kiss feels simultaneously like a benediction and like Malcolm has inflicted something unnecessary on himself.
“I couldn’t let him hurt you,” he murmurs. “Them either, but… you’re the one I was thinking about.”
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Malcolm looks at Neal over his shoulder.
“It doesn’t make any of this make sense. The missing piece is still missing.”
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"What do we know about the husband?"
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“Nothing. Just that he reported her missing.”
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There’s a grim irony in it. Neal rubs his face with one hand. “I think he’s worth looking at. Maybe…”
Maybe. There’s some little something tugging at him that he can’t put his finger on. Something the Malcolm of Mathias said about memories, about the people who have to deal with them. “What if she never intended to take Nina? We assume she did, because the scenario fits an expected pattern made easier to assume by the violent context. But what if she never wanted to steal her?”
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Neal sits up properly, one hand on Malcolm's waist, the other propping himself against the mattress.
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Malcolm starts texting Gil.
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“I understand why you love this,” Neal murmurs. “Before Mathias I don’t think I could have, but I do now.”
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"We're going to save someone," he says.
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Neal kisses him. "Should we go to the station? What should we do?"
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"If he's here, or if he just left here... that will make some pieces fit."
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It’s so casual, the way Alessa says yes when Malcolm asks her if she trusts them. It takes Neal briefly off-guard, his expression blank with surprise until urgency kicks him back into gear.
Alessa hides Nina, gathers up the faux-baby, draws the bastard out. Malcolm tries to bring him down and loses the advantage. Alessa drops the decoy.
Malcolm hits the ground.
There’s a knife.
Neal goes feral.
When he recognizes his surroundings, Malcolm is tugging a glass ornament out of his hand. There’s blood on it, and on his hand.
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They have to go back to the precinct. There’s paperwork. And not just police paperwork. He sits Neal at his desk, gets him bad police station hot chocolate then talks to Christine. She’s eager to sign the adoption paperwork to put Nina in Alessa’s care for good. He presents it to Alessa. He talks to JT about Tally’s upcoming pregnancy just a few steps away from where Neal is sitting in Malcolm’s spot.
“But what if I mess him up?” JT is saying. “What if he turns out like you?” he adds with mock horror.
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“You’d be really damn lucky and you know it, or you should.”
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“Hey, man, it was a joke, okay? We joke around.”
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He lets go of his irritation, or most of it, feeling squeezed out all over again. Neal looks up at Malcolm, those beautiful eyes. “He’d be a good godparent, too.”
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He gives Neal a soft smile, holding out his hand to him.
“Take me home?” he requests sweetly.
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It doesn’t take very long to get a cab, and on the way out Neal spots Christina, Alessa, and Nina, gathered in a little bubble of human warmth.
Neal rests his face against Malcolm’s shoulder for a moment, then he straightens up again to make sure he doesn’t fall down the stairs.
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Once the door to Neal’s apartment closes behind them, Malcolm presses his lips together, reaching out to thread fingers through Neal’s hair at his temple.
“Are you okay?”
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“I’ve never hurt someone like that before.”
His tone is one of realization.
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“He’ll live,” he assures. “He was going to kill us all to take that baby. Take that baby and raise it on abuse. You saved all of us, but especially Nina.” Malcolm takes Neal’s right hand - the one he’s been avoiding touching Malcolm with - and kisses his fingers.
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“I couldn’t let him hurt you,” he murmurs. “Them either, but… you’re the one I was thinking about.”
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