They waited two hours without an update. The silence in the little room was a living thing, gross and bloated, oozing between them in a voiceless dare to be the one to break it, to give life to the fears slithering around their minds. If the kid was alright, they would've been told by now. But the waiting wore on.
JT opened the door, sidling in in an attempt to be unobtrusive. An effort effectively negated by his bulk. Gil straightened.
"Quinley?"
JT nodded. "Booked. Holbrook too."
"I want the best prosecutor in the state," Jessica muttered darkly. "I don't want them to see the sun ever again."
Ainsley put a hand on her mother's back as JT stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, clearing seeing where Bright got it from. Gil patted the seat beside him and JT took it.
"Any news on Bright?"
"Nothing." It hurt to say.
The silence skulked between them for another forty minutes before the door opened and a doctor stepped in. Gil rose to his feet with the rest but a low thrumming had settled in his ears. He heard the doctor speak, heard her say coma, but it didn't compute. He frowned, shifting his weight and forcing himself to listen, to understand what was wrong with Bright.
His brain had been without oxygen for a significant period. They wouldn't know the extent of the damage until he woke up. That wasn't likely for some time. He couldn't breathe on his own. The next twenty hours were crucial. He'd be kept in the ICU. The strain the poison had put on his heart meant he was at risk of it failing. Maximum three visitors at a time. Family first.
Gil didn't notice the doctor leave. He watched Jessica and Ainsley move to the door and he shuffled backwards, trying to get his brain back online.
"Gil?"
Jessica waited, one hand on the door handle.
"What?"
"She said family first."
He blinked. Something in his chest twisted. Avoiding her gaze, he followed her out.
Bright was in a small room, made smaller by the banks of machines keeping him alive. His skin was grey, wan. Exhaustion etched lines in his face. A blue tube was taped to his mouth, forcing air into him with a level of calm that didn't fit the scene.
His kid couldn't breathe. Abruptly, neither could he.
The bullet wound was gone. Gore cleaned away so he looked whole. But all Gil could see was the blood. All he could feel was how limp he'd been in his arms. How heavy.
"My love," Jessica cooed, sweeping down to kiss his forehead. She rubbed the lipstick stain off his skin with her thumb, trailing her fingers through his hair. She hovered over him a moment, just taking him in. "I've never been so happy to see you, my darling." Her voice lowered. "And if you ever pull something like this again I promise you you'll wish you were dead. What I did to your TV will seem delicate by comparison."
Ainsley chuckled, pulling the other seat over to Malcolm's other side and taking his hand.
"Hey, big brother," she said softly, and Gil turned to the window, wishing he wasn't there. "You scared us. I'm glad you're okay. Doofus," she added, tone light despite the tears shaking it.
There was a crow perched on a wire outside. Pecking at its foot. Gil blinked the image clear. Swallowed his heart. Turned back to Malcolm.
He'd seen this before. The kid unconscious, hurt on the job. His family by his sides, each holding onto him.
How was this worse? There was no blood. No broken bones.
No one else to blame.
He moved to the end of the bed. Didn't know what to do with his hands. Decided to reach down and pat the kid's foot. Couldn't bring himself to speak.
oOo
Dani followed JT into Bright's room, holding Edrisa's hand. She hadn't stopped shaking, her fingers trembling in Dani's. They broke apart when they saw him.
"Damn," JT sighed. He stepped forward, hands in his pockets. "Hey, Bright. You look ... well you look like shit, dude."
"JT."
"What? He does."
Dani rolled her eyes. Sank into one of the empty seats. Hesitated. Then took his hand. He wasn't cold anymore. That was ... something.
Edrisa was shaking visibly now, dark eyes swimming with tears. JT shuffled closer, clearly unsure how to comfort her.
"It's not your fault, you know," he said quietly.
Edrisa shook her head. "I did this. I let him. I'm complicit. I – I could've stopped him and I didn't, this is my fault, this –"
"Edrisa." Dani waited until she had her gaze. "You couldn't've stopped him. No one can stop Bright when he gets a plan in his head. We all know it. He would've done this with or without you. And you heard what the doctor said. If he'd gone any longer without oxygen he'd be braindead." She had to swallow to keep her voice steady. "You saved his life."
"This isn't on you," JT echoed softly. "He owes you his life."
Edrisa took a shaky breath, nodding jerkily. Tears darted down her cheeks.
"I just," she said, "I just really want him to be okay."
Dani looked back to Bright's face. This was the calmest she'd seen him since she punched his lights out. She almost smiled at the memory. At least he was finally getting some sleep. She tried to find that comforting.
"He will be," she said quietly. "He's tougher than all of us."
She looked down to his hand in hers. Traced her fingertips over his knuckles. Stroked his nails.
"He even looks stubborn unconscious," JT said, leaning over him. "No way he's gonna kick it. Way too headstrong to let some random guy beat him."
"Yeah. Yeah, he – he's al-always –" Dani stopped. Blinked hard. Forced herself to breathe. "He survived Watkins. This is no big deal."
She ran her fingertips over his thumb. The one he broke to escape Watkins and save his family.
He'd saved her. The first night they met. Was ready to give himself up to save a stranger. And now he was lying here, unable to breathe for himself, because he'd put their lives above his own again. He'd done this to save her. She glanced up to JT's arm, still strapped across his chest. To save them.
How do you repay something like that?
oOo
The ventilator rattled rhythmically. Malcolm's chest rose gently. The machines whirred. His chest fell. The city was quiet outside the window, flanked in cocooning darkness, the unending chaos of the hospital quenched by the closed door.
Gil could finally breathe again. Anxiety still clung to his lungs but he no longer felt like he was suffocating. The image of Malcolm's bloodstained face had eased enough for him to soothe himself with the reality of the steady heartbeat beeping over his shoulder. A much-needed sleep hadn't hurt, but he could've done without the nightmare.
Best of all, their twenty hours were almost up. Nothing had gone wrong. Bright still wasn't breathing on his own, but his vitals were getting slowly stronger. Hope had settled like a cat on Gil's heart, warming itself in the glow of a future safe from the horror of fresh grief.
He should've known. Jackie had never let him down, not when it mattered. She'd kept their boy safe.
Jessica sat across from him, Bright's hand in hers. She'd finally stopped fussing over him but Gil knew it was a product of exhaustion, not satisfaction. She still hadn't slept, save a few stolen minutes in the chair. Ainsley had gone to get her some decent food, but apart from letting the team have a turn with Bright while she hunted down some coffee, Jessica refused to leave Malcolm. Gil didn't blame her in the slightest. Every time he left this room his heart would clench and shudder, trapped by the memory of Malcolm's lifelessness against his chest.
Jessica snorted softly. He looked up to her, eyebrows raised. She shook her head.
"I'm just thinking about that infernal bird in his apartment."
"Sunshine?"
"Mm. I couldn't understand why he chose a parakeet of all things. What's wrong with a cat? Or a plant for that matter, far less work."
Gil chuckled. "The kid's got a big heart."
"Oh I don't deny that. But a bird?"
Gil smiled at Bright. It faded quickly. He still didn't look like himself. Too still.
"Of course, I know why he chose the name, though. Doubt he knows I know, but, I do."
Gil shot her a questioning glance and she shrugged delicately.
"Jackie."
He blinked. "What?"
Jessica rolled her eyes. "Come on, Gil, you remember. Jackie used to sing to him when he was little, that godawful song that was in that car commercial for months." Her tone lost its levity as her gaze returned to her son. "I always hated her for that," she said quietly, almost to herself. "For being a better mother to him than I was. Finding a way to comfort him through his horrors when all I did was drink and make it worse."
"Jessica ..."
"You both helped raise him. And I'm grateful for that. You know," she added, forcing her voice to sound light and inconsequential, "I used to watch him so closely. Waiting for him to come home with a dead bird or to torture one of his snakes. When his friends all abandoned him I was ready for him to turn violent. To ... to turn into his father."
Gil barely dared breathe. He looked to Malcolm, remembering the little kid who'd been so inquisitive, so shy, so terrified of taking up space. He'd never once feared he'd end up like Martin. But God, how could Jessica not?
"I don't know how he would've turned out without you, Gil," she said softly, still staring at Malcolm's lax features. "I think ... I would've only broken him more. Without you. Without Jackie. You didn't just save him. You saved me. Gave me something healthy to be angry about. To strive for. Reminded me I was his mother. For better or worse.
"But I never sang to him."
She reached forward, curling her fingers through Malcolm's hair, her gaze so soft and full of affection and sorrow Gil felt like an intruder just witnessing it.
"Well," Jessica whispered, "I suppose it's never too late to start."
She took his hand, still stroking his hair, still watching him like he was the most important thing in her world.
"You are my sun-shine," she sang softly, sincerity dripping from every syllable. "My only sun-shine. You make me ha-ppy, when skies are grey." Tears filled her eyes, quickly escaping her lashes. "You'll never know, dear," she whispered, barely singing now, "how much I love you." She sniffed, took a breath. Kissed her son's cheek. "Please don't take my sun-shine away."
Gil rose to his feet and walked around the bed. He bent down and wrapped his arms around Jessica. She turned into him, trembling slightly.
"Malcolm loves you, Jessica," he whispered. "You did your best. And it was enough. You raised a hero, Jess. A hero."
"I just want him safe," she sighed, voice low. "I want him to not hurt. I want him happy." She sniffed, voice breaking. "I want him back." She pulled back, squeezing his arm. "But it's like he said at that wedding. All we can do is wait. And hope."
Gil sighed. Glanced up at Malcolm. And froze.
His eyes were open.
