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.”
It wasn't a chiding. He won't find any too much or too far there.
"It's pretty standard. But I have a feeling that standards are changing around here," he notes. He considers Neal's face. "You meant that," he says, letting himself absorb that. "You meant it when you said he'd be lucky."
Anything Neal might have said about that treatment being standard gets set aside for later. He touches Malcolm’s face with that shy reverence he’s had for this man in general since he saw him in New York the first time.
"Don't forget the impulse control problems and insomnia..." he says with a soft laugh. He holds Neal's gaze a moment. "Nobody's... ever said that to me," he finally admits. "Nobody's suggested that before and... and I didn't know how hard it could hit me to be... seen through it."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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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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"Like when you got mad at JT's joke?"
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“It wasn’t a joke. Not a good one.”
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"It's pretty standard. But I have a feeling that standards are changing around here," he notes. He considers Neal's face. "You meant that," he says, letting himself absorb that. "You meant it when you said he'd be lucky."
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“Of course I did.”
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It's still weird, that Neal's seen the side of him that he hides from the world. He's seen a side of Malcolm that he doesn't let his family see.
And Malcolm never saw him see it. There's a weird sort of disconnect there.
"It's still... weird for me. For someone to... feel like that. Even the people that love me the most feel bad for me."
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“That’s because they forgot somewhere along the way that you’re not just night terrors and complex PTSD. You’re… everything.”
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“You saw me,” he says quietly. “You in Mathias, you here. I… get it.”
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"I think... I like it." He pauses. "People say that stuff all the time. They don't mean it, but... they say it all the time."
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