AN: I'm churning these out slower than I'd like, but in my defense, I'm getting married in thirteen days. My life is pretty hectic right now lol. Obviously, I hope to get at least one more tag out before the wedding, but I can't guarantee anything. As always, I hope you enjoy, and please leave a review :)
Gil had worked a lot of cases in his career. Some of them had been much worse than others, for one reason or another. But a case at Claremont, which required Malcolm to spend a lot of time with his serial killer father? That had to be in the top five worst cases that Gil had ever had to work. If there had been any other way, Gil wouldn't have brought the kid in on the case at all, but if Malcolm had found out - and he would have - he would've been indignant to say the least. No matter how much Gil wanted to protect him, he had to accept that Malcolm was an adult now, and he had valuable expertise on these cases that Gil needed. Keeping him off a case to protect him from his father wouldn't fly with either Malcolm or the brass, who expected the kid's consulting on nearly every murder case that Gil's squad worked.
But that certainly didn't mean that Gil had to like it. He hated bringing Malcolm in from the moment he called him. That hatred only grew stronger as Martin threw snide comments at him with thinly veiled jabs at Malcolm. That hatred nearly turned into an erupting volcano when Gil was forced to stay outside of group therapy, and merely listen from a distance, back in a hallway where he couldn't be seen - and where he couldn't see them, which Gil forced not to make him panic. He had to stand there and listen as the inmates said such cruel things to Malcolm, and he couldn't go in and console his kid as Malcolm fell apart. Gil could hear his kid's voice breaking, and it took everything in him to stay where he was. The kid may have gotten more emotionally involved than he'd planned - since Malcolm was no actor, at least not when his father was involved - but he still had a job to do, and Gil had to trust that he could compose himself and do it.
Gil finally bolted from the hallway when a true commotion sounded. He reached the room right as he saw Malcolm being pulled into an adjoining room by a guard. The rest of the guards were securing the inmates. Malcolm was safe. Everything was fine.
But he still needed to talk to the kid. He couldn't just pretend that he hadn't heard what Malcolm had said. He needed to touch base with his kid and ensure that he was okay. But, as usual, Malcolm brushed off Gil's attempts at talking, insisting that they needed to get focused on the case and that of course he was fine, it had all been an act, just part of the plan. Gil didn't believe him in the slightest, but the kid wasn't giving him the time he needed to get to the bottom of it, or even enough time to just give him a hug.
The case continued. Gil took the therapist in for questioning, no matter how much he wanted to stay with his kid, while Malcolm and Dani talked more with Dr. Whitly to try to get another lead.
Gil got caught up with the brass, and didn't have the chance to make it back to Claremont until several hours later. Right as he entered through the doors, alarms started going off. One of the inmates was loose. Gil immediately pulled out his phone and called Malcolm, but the kid didn't pick up. The kid always picked up. Something had to be very wrong for Malcolm to ignore Gil's call. He tried Dani next. They were supposed to stay together, but neither one was always very keen on following Gil's instructions.
"Gil, get down here," Dani answered in lieu of a greeting.
"I'm already at Claremont, where are you? Where's Bright?" he asked, his panic only growing.
"I don't know," Dani said, sounding nearly as panicked as Gil felt. "He's somewhere with Dr. Whitly, and not on any cameras. I'm heading down to the basement now. They were in the elevator when we lost them."
"The kid's alone with him?" Gil jogged down the hallway, hoping to find the nearest stairwell, but there were so many locked doors between him and his kid, and he needed a guard to open them.
"Probably not," Dani said. "The killer should be with them." Gil scoffed. That was not reassuring. "I've gotta go, I think I hear something. Get down here." Dani hung up before Gil could say anything else.
Gil knew the guards were doing the best they could, but it was taking far too long to get to the basement. His anxiety grew with every passing second. Malcolm was in danger, and Gil wasn't there yet.
"Hold on, kid," he muttered, ignoring the look the guard sent his way.
Finally, freaking finally, the door into the stairwell was opened. Gil bolted down without another word, taking the stairs much faster than he normally would in his haste to get to Malcolm. Luckily, he only had to go down three flights. He burst through the door and followed the sound of voices. Everything sounded okay, more or less.
As he got closer, Dani came into view. She was handing a woman in cuffs over to the unis, then appeared again a moment later with Dr. Whitly in tow, wearing both cuffs and a leather jacket. Gil didn't take time to ponder it. That question ranked infinitely lower on his priority list than anything involving Malcolm.
"Where's Bright?" Gil asked as he approached them. He still didn't see his kid.
"Gil! You missed all the fun!" Dr. Whitly said with a crazed grin on his face. "I, personally, have had an absolutely wonderful day. Saving the life of my boy was definitely a highlight." His voice took on that ugly and possessive tone when he talked about Malcolm.
"Shut up," Dani said, then looked at Gil. "He's taking a breather." She motioned behind her, amongst the pipes and machinery. "He's okay, but you should definitely take him to the hospital." Dani began marching Dr. Whitly forward.
"That's all thanks to me that he'll be fine," he said in a sing-song voice.
"Shut up," Dani repeated, much more agitated.
Gil let out a breath and jogged further back into the basement.
"Kid?" he gently called out. He peered around the pipes and finally got a look at his kid, who was leaning up against a water heater, breathing heavily. "You okay?"
Malcolm turned on his heel, glancing at Gil before running his hands through his hair, which was falling in front of his face. He nodded a few times, his hand shaking.
"I'm fine," he said, quite obviously a lie.
"Really?" Gil asked, stepping up to his kid. "'Cause Dani said I need to take you to the hospital." He looked the kid up and down again. Malcolm seemed okay, but Dani wasn't one to jump at shadows. Gil stepped closer and put his hand on the back of his kid's neck. His brows furrowed immediately at what he felt. Malcolm's heartrate was erratic, with no seeming rhyme or rhythm to it, strong one moment and weak the next. Now that Gil was closer, he could see that the kid was sweating at the temples and forehead, and it seemed to be taking much more effort to breathe normally that it should've. "Kid, what's going on?" he asked. "What happened? And don't give me some BS answer, I need the truth, kid." He ducked his head to catch Malcolm's gaze, hoping to get the kid to see how serious he was being.
"I'll be fine, I just got tased a few times," Malcolm replied. He sounded absolutely exhausted.
"How many times is a few?" Gil asked, his heart dropping. The way the kid's heart was beating, it had to be more than just twice, or even three times. He pulled Malcolm closer to him and started to walk the kid through the pipes. Gil knew Malcolm would refuse an ambulance, but he was definitely going to get him to his car and turn on his lights and sirens to get him to the hospital as quickly as possible, whether the kid liked it or not.
"Like, eight, maybe, I don't know," Malcolm muttered. "I sort of lost track."
Gil's sharp intake of breath was the only sign of his fear that he was willing to let the kid hear. He pulled Malcolm even closer to him - as if that would protect the kid's heart - and walked them faster to the elevator, which was once again functional.
Malcolm stared blankly ahead as the elevator doors closed. He just looked so bone tired, and Gil wanted to do nothing more than find somewhere where the kid could rest. But he had to take him to the hospital first, that was non-negotiable.
But why did the kid look so exhausted? Was it all just from getting tased, or was there more to it? Gil was pretty certain that Martin had something to do with it. He hadn't forgotten how emotional Malcolm had gotten during the group therapy interview, and Gil still hadn't gotten a chance to talk to the kid about it.
"Do you wanna talk about what else is bothering you?" Gil asked. "'Cause I know a little pain and an erratic heartbeat aren't enough to get you so quiet. You've got from now until we get to the hospital to tell me what's going on." He didn't take his arm off the kid's shoulders, and Malcolm didn't make any move to get away. If anything, the kid was leaning into him more and more.
"It's nothing new," Malcolm admitted with a shrug. "It's just my dad. Same old, same old."
Gil knew that although the kid was probably telling the truth, it certainly wasn't the whole truth. Just the everyday stress of having The Surgeon for a father wasn't quite enough for Malcolm to look so utterly defeated, his eyes downcast and his hair falling in front of his face. There was more going on than that.
"What did he do?" Gil asked. Malcolm glanced over for less than a second, but remained silent. "Kid, what did Martin do? Did he say something to you?"
"It's fine," Malcolm said, but the pain in his voice assured Gil that it was anything but.
The elevator came to a stop, and Malcolm finally stepped away from Gil, letting Gil's arm fall back down to his side. Gil followed his kid out, thankful that at least Malcolm wasn't fighting him on going to the hospital. They stayed silent as they made their way out of Claremont. That wasn't the place to talk, and Gil knew it.
But the fresh air outside Claremont was free game.
"I know it's not fine," Gil said as he caught up to Malcolm. He got in front of the kid, forcing him to stop. Malcolm still wouldn't look at him, but he didn't try to get away. "Whatever happened, you can tell me," he insisted, resting his hand on the back of the kid's neck once again. "I'm always here for you, kid. You know that. So what's going on? Why won't you look at me?"
Finally, Malcolm brought his gaze up, and briefly met Gil's before looking away once again - but this time, instead of looking down and away, he looked up, as one does when fighting tears.
"He saved me," Malcolm finally said with a sardonic smile and a shrug. "He saved me, right when Rhonda was about to kill me, and then he smiled at me like he was proud of me, and I forgot, just for a second, who he is, and I smiled back." Malcolm shook his head as the first tear fell. "I smiled back and I wanted- Gil, I wanted him to hug me." He wrapped his arms around himself in a mimicking gesture that Gil saw through to be self comforting. "I forgot that he doesn't really love me, and I forgot what he said to me just a few hours ago, and I forgot that he's a monster." Malcolm's voice broke on the last word. He let out a shaky breath as he tried to control his emotions. "How could I be so cruel to his victims and their families by ever forgetting that?"
Before he replied, Gil gently pulled Malcolm over to a bench facing the parking lot. That also gave him another moment to find his own words to respond. Dealing with Martin's impact on his son was always difficult, and it was magnified by Malcolm's own overactive guilt complex.
Gil sat them both down and wrapped his arm around Malcolm's shoulders. He felt his pulse for a brief moment, and was glad to feel it stronger - still erratic, but stronger for sure. They could take a few minutes. The kid sorely needed it.
"None of this is on you," he started. That was the most important thing to get through to Malcolm. "No matter what he's done, he's still your father. It's completely normal for you to want that love-."
"But I shouldn't want it," Malcolm tearfully interrupted. "I don't need it, not when I have you. So why do I still want it?" He squeezed his eyes shut and looked away once again. Gil pulled the kid closer to him.
"Because you're a human being," Gil insisted. The real question was, why did the kid never give himself the benefit of the doubt that he gave others? "Feelings and emotions are complicated, you of all people know that. Not everything makes sense, and that's okay. You don't have to understand why you feel what you feel."
"But you don't know what he said to me, in his cell, after group therapy," Malcolm said, his voice barely a whisper. He made eye contact for a brief moment before looking away once again. His hand was shaking in his lap.
"What did he say?" Gil asked, despite being afraid of the answer. He knew it would be more of the same gaslighting and manipulative and abusive nonsense that Martin had been filling his son's head with for over twenty years, but for it to bring Malcolm to a state that he thought it was even worth a mention - which was horrible in and of itself that the kid thought the way he was treated was so normal that he shouldn't mention it - meant that it had to be even worse. Gil shouldn't have been surprised. Malcolm had let the truth shine in the group therapy interview, and of course Martin was going to attack that vulnerability the moment he could. Gil never should've left, he should've insisted that someone else do it and postpone his meetings with the brass. He never should've let Malcolm be alone with his father. None of it should've happened.
When Malcolm replied, it was in a small, broken voice. "He was shouting, and he was so loud and he said he hated me, that I ruined the whole family. I ruined him and my mom and Ainsley. But then he said it wasn't true, that none of it is, because he's not the monster that I think he is. He said that if he really were such a monster, it would be my fault." Malcolm pulled his feet up onto the bench, curling in on himself.
"Oh, kiddo," Gil breathed out. He pulled Malcolm even closer, and the kid let himself be pressed right up against him. If it were up to him, he would have Martin tossed into solitary for the rest of his miserable existence, if not worse, for what he'd done to Malcolm, for what he continued to do to him. What was Gil supposed to say? There wasn't anything that he could say that the kid didn't already know. There was no new insight that Gil had that would suddenly make Malcolm feel better. The kid was a genius, he understood the psychology of what was going on better than Gil did himself. But none of that meant that Malcolm wasn't still impacted by it. Understanding a disease doesn't make you immune to it.
"It's not on you," Gil finally continued. "None of it is. This is on no one but Martin himself. He made all his own decisions. All of your trauma and your family's trauma is because of him, not you. You did the right thing. You always do the right thing." Malcolm flinched at Gil's final words, but remained silent, so Gil continued, and let his hand start rubbing the kid's back. "I love you so much, you know that?" he asked. Malcolm finally turned his head to look at him, and gave him a slight nod. "And you know I would never lie to you?" After a moment, Malcolm nodded again. "Then believe me when I say that there's nothing wrong with you for still wanting his love. No matter how brilliant you are, kid, you're still human. You still want the love of your father, like everyone wants. It doesn't matter who else you have in your life." Gil let out a sigh, then continued. "No matter how much I love you, and no matter how much I wish I was, I'm not truly your father. A part of you is always going to want Martin, and that's okay. There's nothing wrong with you for that."
"But I shouldn't need him," Malcolm insisted as another tear fell.
Gil squeezed his shoulder. "You don't. You don't need him. You know you don't. But that won't stop your heart from wanting him to love you like a real father should. No matter how much of a monster he is, no matter how much he hurts you, part of you is always going to remember the loving father you once saw in him, and want that back, and maybe even hope deep down that he's still in there, and that's okay. Trauma is complicated, you know that. It's messy and it hurts, but that's what I'm here for. I'm here to listen, to hold, to put the pieces back together. I'm here for whatever you need, always."
The unspoken truth was that Gil was there to be Malcolm's dad. They both knew it. They'd both said it in one form or another. There was no need to spell it out even more. Not yet at least.
"You shouldn't have to," Malcolm muttered, averting his gaze and shaking his head. "You shouldn't have to deal with my problems, with my life, with me." Another tear fell. "That's not fair to you, you don't deserve this-."
"Hey, hey, hey," Gil interrupted. He pulled Malcolm closer - the kid had leaned away - and ducked his head to catch the kid's tear filled gaze. "I want to. You mean more to me than anything or anyone. You are the most important thing in my life, and number two isn't even close. No matter what you go through, I am going to be here with you because I want to be. I love you, kid. I want to help you, to protect you. There is nothing I wouldn't do for you. You're the one who doesn't deserve this life. You deserve so, so much better, a better life, a better father-."
"That's why I have you," Malcolm interrupted. He averted his gaze once again, and his voice fell to barely a whisper. "You're a better father," he breathed. It was so quiet that Gil could barely hear it, but his heart swelled nonetheless. He smiled, and squeezed Malcolm's shoulder. The kid's head fell onto Gil's shoulder, resting there.
"I try to be, kiddo, for you. Anything for you," he said, stressing his words. He turned slightly and placed a soft kiss on Malcolm's head.
The kid stayed quiet, and just let his head rest on Gil's shoulder. Gil was content to sit there as long as Malcolm needed. He still had to take the kid to the hospital to get checked out, but he didn't seem to be in any immediate danger, so there wasn't any rush. As long as Malcolm was comfortable to sit on that bench and feel the gentle breeze, Gil was comfortable to massage his shoulder and hold him close. He loved the kid more than anything, and he would do anything to prove it.
After another few minutes, Malcolm finally spoke again, his voice slightly hoarse from crying. "I guess I should let you take me to the hospital now," he admitted, but made no move to get up, or even lift his head off Gil's shoulder.
"I'm proud of you for admitting that you need to go," Gil said with a smirk. He gave Malcolm's shoulder another squeeze.
"Well, I would want you to go, if you'd gotten tased eight times."
Gil's heart clenched at the reminder of how his kid had suffered down in that basement. For just a moment, he held Malcolm even closer, never wanting to let go, before finally moving to stand up. He really did need to get the kid looked at. He couldn't leave him until a doctor confirmed that his heart wasn't in any danger - at least physically. As he moved, Malcolm finally picked his head up off his shoulder and straightened up. Gil stood, and held out his hand to pull the kid up. Malcolm took it without a word, but gave Gil a soft smile.
"Come on, kid," Gil said. "If they wanna keep you overnight for observation, I'll stay with you. If they say you can go home but need someone else there, then it's your decision whether I stay at your loft, or you stay in your room at my house." Malcolm's room had remained mostly untouched. It had once been the guest room, a long, long time ago, but as Malcolm spent more and more time at the Arroyos' and less time at his own place, it just became his by default. It had even been redecorated and repainted as Malcolm became a teenager and practically lived there when he wasn't at boarding school. Malcolm had come home to Gil and Jackie so often instead of to Jessica during college that they certainly weren't going to convert it back to a guest room. Even when Malcolm had technically gotten his own place - still owned by his mother, but his own space - he was at Gil's house often enough that the room remained Malcolm's. Even nearly ten years after the kid had graduated college, Gil had no intention of doing anything else with that room. It was Malcolm's, now and forever.
"Even if they don't say that..." Malcolm started, then trailed off. He slowed down on the way to the car and averted his gaze from Gil once again.
"How about you come over either way? Assuming they don't want you to stay at the hospital overnight," Gil suggested, knowing exactly what the kid needed, but was embarrassed to ask for. "We could get pizza, watch a movie."
"That sounds great," Malcolm replied with a bashful smile. "Thanks, Gil."
"Any time, kiddo." Gil wrapped his arm around Malcolm's shoulders even as they approached the car. "Any time."
To Gil's relief, all of the scans and tests at the hospital came back good. There would be no lasting damage to his kid. With a smile on his face, Gil bought them a pizza, rented them a movie - because there was just something nostalgic about renting a movie instead of streaming one - and didn't say anything as Malcolm sat right next to him on the couch, clad in the comfy clothes he kept in his drawers in his room. As he was known to do, Malcolm fell asleep before the movie was over, falling onto Gil's shoulder and chest. As carefully as he could, Gil maneuvered the kid to be sleeping in his lap. He turned on whatever sports game was on, and let the kid sleep for the next hour. When Malcolm started to murmur, Gil quickly woke him, and helped the exhausted kid up and into his room. Gil pulled an extra blanket up and over his kid, then once again pressed a soft kiss to his kid's temple.
"Goodnight, kid," he said, squeezing Malcolm's shoulder one more time. "I love you so much." The kid was almost back asleep already. That was good. The kid sorely needed the sleep. Gil's room was right next door, and he was a light sleeper. If - when - Malcolm had a nightmare, Gil would know, and he would be there in seconds.
Malcolm hummed softly as he settled down into the soft sheets and blankets. "I love you too, Dad."
Gil smiled. No matter what he went through, at the end of the day, his kid knew who his real dad was. As long as he didn't forget that, Gil was sure that Malcolm was going to be just fine.