"Attention all units, we have a 10-54 DOA at 328 Pearl Street." Gil took a deep breath and braced himself. Bright looked over at him. Before the kid could open his mouth Gil said,

"Forget about it. I'm not taking you to a crime scene." A sense of Deja Vu crept over him. He was sure he'd had this conversation with a much younger Malcolm Whitly before, at least a hundred times since the kid was six. Gil clenched his teeth. This time he wasn't going to back down. The kid needed to get to his plane and on the damn beach in damn Tahiti, dammit.

"C'mon it's practically on the way. My flight's not for hours…"

"Bright…"

"Look, I'm taking care of myself but I can still help." Gil shook his head. This kid. Gil was pretty sure he could sell paint off a wall.

"How about a quick drive-by, then straight to the airport? In and out, I promise." Malcolm leaned forward, his eyes sparkling with eagerness. Gil glared at the kid, but they both knew he had already lost. He usually did. Gil let out a loud huff.

"Fine, but only because I want everyone to see you in that suit." Malcolm let out a surprised laugh. He'd forgotten he was wearing the white abomination his mother had brought him. Gil smiled as he drove away from the curb. That one genuine laugh was worth it. Of course, later, Gil would regret giving in and what it had cost him.

Gil crossed to the hospital waiting room's coffee and sniffed it. He wrinkled his nose. It smelled like turpentine. He closed his eyes and drank it anyway. He mournfully glanced at his watch as he returned to Malcolm's side. If things had gone according to plan, the kid would be over Florida in a plane instead of sitting rigidly in a chair beside Gil. Gil frowned and glanced up. By his reckoning there was only one family ahead of them. For New York, the hospital was surprisingly empty. Malcolm figetted and gasped in pain. Gil rolled his eyes and glanced around for a nurse. He fully expected the kid to face plant.

"You know if you'd let me call the ambulance…" Malcolm grimaced as he raised his hand. He stiffly turned to face the older man. He smiled.

"I'm fine, we're fine. It's ok." Gil snorted and shook his head and rubbed his face. The kid had scared the crap out of him this time, out of all of them. One minute he'd been talking about the Count of Monte Cristo, the next he was doing an olympic vault across the desk. Gil took another sip of coffee and winced, more from the memory than the taste-although that was pretty horrendous too.

CLICK

"Edrissa!" Malcolm had told Gil once that the constant pumping of adrenaline in his body from his normal high levels of anxiety sometimes paid off with lightning fast reflexes. Gill backed up startled. By the time he processed Malcolm's movement. The kid already had his hands over the mine.

"Mine! It's a Black Widow!" Even JT who had spent months in Kabul on the razors' edge looking for land mines took a minute to catch up. He was the first in motion shooting everyone out and yelling for the bomb squad. Gil echoed the sentiment directing his orders at Edrissa and her people. Gil and Dani didn't move, their wide surprised eyes staring at Bright and the mine. JT returned with a vest. It wasn't much, but it was something.

"Keep your hand on that, bro. The only thing keeping that from going off is a weak spring inside the case."

"Good thing I don't have a shaking hand." Bright quipped as JT put the vest on him.

"You're making jokes!" Gil didn't know why but this more than anything irritated him. No, he amended, he was pissed. He was pissed this guy felt the need to get murdered by some freak with a love to blow things up, he was pissed he hadn't gotten Bright on the plane as he promised Jessica, he was pissed they were all about to die and the kid was joking. Gil wasn't in the right frame of mind to consider what exactly he thought the kid should be doing, but him joking about almost dying was too much. It was part of why Gil wanted to get him away from all the sucking darkness that was their daily life. Why the kid was supposed to be eating licorice while ignoring people staring at his over expensive white suit bored out of his mind at LaGuardia. Gil forced himself to take a steadying breath.

"You don't have to stay." Bright said, eyeing them. JT looked like he was ready to bolt, but stayed because what kind of bro would that make him? Malcolm almost smiled at the thought. He forced the smile away. One look at Gil's face told him that if he made light of it any more, the man might explode. Helplessness transmogrified to anger. Bright sobered and looked down at the mine. He pressed harder, trying to quell the trembling in his right hand. He was only half joking about his hand. If he blew them all up because of his nerves, he'd never hear the end of it.

"We aren't leaving you!" Dani said. Malcolm sighed. If their positions were reversed he wouldn't leave her either, but he'd die if anything happened to her.

"It'll be fine, I'll hold on until the bomb squad comes…"

CLICK

"That's the spring. It's armed." JT looked like he was about to grab Malcolm and run for the door. Dani grabbed Gil's hand with a death grip. And Gil, Bright sighed. Unless he did something drastic, they were all going to blow up. He swallowed.

"Ok, I have to talk fast. JT, auction houses will have records of the sale. Gil, the killer sees himself as the Count, his victims will have looked down on him somehow. Dani…" Bright's voice died in his throat. Thank you for being my friend. Sorry, I let you down. You're beautiful… Malcolm cleared his throat. She leaned forward ready to jump into action with his request. Bright knew if he voiced his thoughts, she would know he's saying goodbye, know he was going to die.

"Uh...nevermind. Go, I have a plan!" They stood staring at him a long second. Gil shot him a you better be right, kid look and pulled at Dani.

"Come on."

"We can't leave-"

"Come on!" JT and Gil almost carried her out the door. Malcolm breathed out in relief when they were out of sight. At least they would be safe.

"Now, what's the plan?" He muttered looking around him. He would have three seconds after he lifted his hands to get out of the blast radius. How the hell was he supposed to- Malcolm jumped when his phone rang. He laughed and leaned down harder with his left hand to take up the slack as he pulled it out. He prayed it wasn't his mother or Ainsley. How could he ever come up with last words for them? More to the point they would stay on the line arguing. He didn't have time or energy for that. No, of course, much better.

"What the hell, might as well go out with a bang." He said, answering. He had no idea why he decided to talk to his dad right then. Beg for support? Finally get the last word?

"Malcolm, my boy, I'm back!" Malcolm scanned the room desperately.

"Great, good, I only have a second." I hope.

"You're busy, I understand-"

"I'm just holding a live mine planted by a Monte Cristo inspired killer."

"Really? Was the victim Villefort or-wait. Did you say mine?" Malcolm laughed.

"Yeah."

"And you picked up?" Martin sounded as confused as he was, "Why?"

"I'm not really sure." Bright said his eyes falling on the antique gun then the window. Had both barrels been fired? He couldn't remember. If not, he might have the slimmest chance. If they had…

"Um, I have to go." Malcolm tucked the phone away taking deep breaths, his brain doing fast calculations. Fifth floor. Not too bad, he could survive that especially with the vest on. The flintlock ball, if there was one, could break the glass unless it was reinforced like most newer buildings required. This building looked like it was built in the '50s, so that wouldn't be a problem, he hoped. He closed his eyes and gathered himself. He lifted his hand. One. He rose to his feet and grabbed the flintlock. Luckily he'd fired his own enough to use the gun smoothly. Two. He jumped while shards of glass burst around him. Three. He'd barely cleared the window when he felt heat whoosh over him.

Malcolm tried to suck in a breath as he turned in midair. Knowing the body like he did he knew he had a better chance of surviving with his back down. He thought he'd had a conversation about that with his dad once. The padding and kevlar would be thicker in the back of his vest. At least, he hoped so. Malcolm had a second to admire the tongues of fire flying out of the window above him then he landed.

He heard another explosion. Glass flew everywhere, and something cushioned his fall. Well, sort of. Every molecule of air exploded from his body. He tried to suck in air, but only brought in a weak gasp and pain. Lots of pain. He closed his eyes focusing on breathing. Glass showered down on him. He wasn't sure if it was from above or below. He managed to suck in a painful groan.

"Bright?"

"Malcolm!" Bright wheezed in another breath. Something was definitely broken inside. More explosions flashed. It took him a minute to realize those were inside his head.

"BRIGHT!" Gil. Right. Malcolm groaned as he slowly rolled onto his side. He put his hand in glass and bent black metal. Black metal? Malcolm lifted his head and took in where he was. Gil's car. The Le Mans, he'd landed on the Le Mans. Shit. Gil was going to kill him. Malcolm met the older man's wide panicked eyes. He grimaced in what he hoped looked like an apologetic smile.

"I don't think I'll be making it to my plane." He managed. He slumped back fighting to breathe. There was definitely something broken in his chest. A rib was his guess. Having had a couple fractured not too long ago, he figured he'd finished the job Watkin's had started. He sighed. On the plus side they couldn't force him to leave now, could they? He chuckled, then groaned as his chest was torn apart with pain.

When Gil heard the shot and looked up, his brain couldn't process what he was seeing. Then came a white clad form curling through the broken glass like a cannonball. Then his car exploded. Gil screamed Bright's name and dashed to the Le Mans after the window glass settled. Malcolm laid on his back, eyes closed, gasping. Gil felt his heart skip a beat in panic. His hand shook more than Bright's when he reached for his kid.

"Malcolm?" He asked barely able to breathe himself. It took an eternity before the kid opened his blue eyes and turned to face him. Bright smiled.

"Hey." Malcolm held his chest as he coughed after talking. Gil leaned forward holding his hand.

"How...what-are you ok?" Gil stuttered. He didn't have the words to encompass how not ok the kid looked. Malcolm laughed and cried out bending over his middle.

"Ugh...something definitely broken…" He rasped.

"I'm calling a bus-" Dani started. Malcolm rolled onto his side and shook his head holding up a hand.

"N...No…'m 'k…" he managed around his groan of pain.

"No you're not." Gil snapped. JT stared at him open mouthed then up at the broken window. Black smoke and flames still belched out staining the blue sky a sickly grey color.

"Bro, that was...holy shit!" He eyeballed Bright half in awe and half scared that Malcolm really was bat shit crazy. Malcolm took a breath and rolled toward Gil keeping his grip on the older man's hand.

"Stay still, you need an ambulance!" Dani said her eyes fiery with anger and worry. Bright barely heard her as he pushed himself from the car's roof into Gil's arms.

"Dammit, Bright-!" Gil managed to stop Bright's fall to the ground. JT and Dani ran to his side. Between the three of them they managed to lower the kid to sitting in the sea of glass with his back against the black car. Malcolm groaned and his eyes closed, his head dropping. Gil crouched in front of him.

"Bright?" He asked gently. He reached out and touched Malcolm's cheek. The suit was toast. He could see some charred areas and countless tiny cuts and spots of blood. Gil's eyes widened as he pulled his hand back. Warm blood covered his fingers. He tilted Malcolm forward ignoring his gasp of pain. He had a large bump on the back of his head and a cut over his left ear. Malcolm pushed Gil's probing hand away.

" 's 'k, I'm fine." The kid grunted lifting his head. He took a deeper breath and met Gil's gaze. Tears shone in the kid's eyes, "I'm sorry about the car...I didn't aim for it…" Gil sat back on his haunches shaking his head.

"Kid...you are unbelievable!" Malcolm flinched at the anger in his voice.

"I...I'll have it fixed...promise." Bright reached out and grabbed Gil's arm. Gil looked up at Dani and JT. They shared a familiar sad look.

"I'm not worried about that right now. We have to get you taken care of."

"No...no ambulance...too bouncy…" Malcolm gasped. Gil went to rub his eyes, but stopped his heart lurching when he saw Bright's blood. He shuddered and wiped it on Bright's pants. They were already ruined.

"I'll bring my car around." JT said, pulling out his keys. He turned and jogged to his car around the corner. Malcolm sat forward. His face bleached of what little color he had. He closed his eyes and fumbled for the straps on the vest gasping in pain.

"Easy, let us do the work." Gil said nodding at Dani. Bright nodded and leaned back sucking in a painful breath. Gil and Dani worked the belts between them.

"Ok, we need you to sit forward…" Malcolm bit his lip to keep in a scream as he tilted to allow them to pull it over his head. He slumped back, able to breathe a little better. He met each of the pair's eyes and offered a grateful smile.

JT pulled his sedan as close as he could to them. He opened the back door. Dani and Gil bent over him.

"Are you ready?" Gil asked softly. The man's dark eyes were filled with pain over the agony the move was going to cause. Malcolm swallowed, fighting nausea.

"Sure." He braced himself as they gripped him under the arms. Malcolm closed his eyes as explosions again flashed across his head. He groaned forcing his body to move. Everything went fuzzy. The next thing he knew he was sitting on the backseat leaning against the door frame. He blinked, his mouth filling with saliva.

"...with us?" Malcolm blinked at Dani confused. Gil shook his head. He stood up and paced. Bright was pretty sure he was tempted to call an ambulance and haul him to the hospital in it whether Malcolm wanted to or not. Malcolm blinked against the dizziness. Nausea wriggled in his gut.

"I'm ok." Bright said with the best plastic smile he could muster.

"Yeah right." Gil grouched.

"You wouldn't know ok if it bit you on the ass." Dani growled in frustration.

"Bro, you puke in my car, you're buying me a new one." JT added. Malcolm laughed and curled over himself in pain. His gut rebelled and he heaved. Dani and Gil nimbly danced back as his morning licorice splashed on the pavement. Bright closed his eyes as waves of agony sloshed through his body in time with the dry heaving that followed. Everything faded.

"Bright...shit." Gil growled as he caught Malcolm as the kid slumped forward. Gil looked over at JT and nodded to the other side of the car. JT nodded and opened that door. He pulled Bright across the bar seat. They turned him on his side so his long legs could fold into the space behind the driver's seat. JT moved around with his keys in hand. Gil held out his hand. "Boss-"

"Now. Please." JT could see the panic in the man's eyes. He sighed and handed the keys over.

"Just...be ok with it...you know." Gil shot him the full wattage of his glare as JT absently threw a thumb toward the Le Mans. Dani slapped JT on the shoulder.

"What?"

Traffic wasn't bad for New York lunch hour, but it was still going too damn slow. Gil glanced back at his boy. Malcolm looked paler than his wrecked suit. He hadn't stirred through the drive to midtown. As they approached city hall, Malcolm groaned. Gil moved the rearview mirror to see his kid. Malcolm looked at him bleary.

"You ok?" Bright asked. Gil almost jumped the curb. Malcolm cried out and circled his aching chest.

"Unbelievable." Gil gritted.

"I know you're mad about the car, but...I promise...I'll pay to get it fixed. I promise…" For the first time that entire day, Malcolm looked genuinely upset. Gil fought the urge to pull over. He turned to the kid when they stopped at a redlight.

"Bright, I want you to hear me. I am not worried about the car. I am worried about you."

"Yeah, but the Le Mans-"

"Is a car. A nice car, a vintage car...but still only a car. You...you are not replaceable. You get that?" Malcolm studied Gil. Gil could see the shy ten year old peep out behind the profiler's keen gaze. Bright offered a small, but genuine smile. His eyes were heavy with fatigue.

" 'k." He murmured. Gil turned around smiling himself. Son of a bitch if this kid wouldn't turn him gray haired and wrinkly. He pulled up to the front door of NY-Preb's ER and ran in to get a wheelchair. Seeing his alarm an orderly hurried out with him. Gil told the man everything on the way to the car. Malcolm was pushing himself up to one arm as they pulled open the door. Bright groaned as he slowly straightened himself and slid across the seat toward them. Everything spun as they helped him into the chair. Malcolm fought the urge to heave as they whirled through the double doors. He was only barely aware of going through registration. Malcolm leaned his head into his hand as they waited.

He watched Gil pace until realizing it wasn't helping his headache. He closed his eyes focusing on taking slow shallow breaths. No matter what Gil said, Bright knew he was upset about the car. He promised himself he would make it up to the older man. He did know where there was a junkyard, after all. Malcolm winced as he snorted at his own dark joke. His hand shook. He stared at it remembering the hammer, the pain, the scream...Malcolm groaned. Emotions were very like a tsunami. First there was dead calm-of course, for Malcolm this was usually when he was solving a case, rescuing someone, getting into danger. For him it was calming. The tide going out. Out in the ocean all of the waves gathered and grew, then came back with a vengeance. Ok, that was a simplification and poetic view of what happened in a true tsunami, but that was how he felt. Drowned. In a river destroying everything in its path as he clung to whatever shelter he could find...Malcolm gasped bending over his belly. Ribs became a knife stabbing him, very nearly costing him his spleen. His whole body shook. He felt cold and sweaty. Like he had when-

"Hey, hey...easy. Look at me, kid. Look at me. Bright." Malcolm opened his eyes gasping for air. His eyes roved desperately, his heart pounded, leaving echoes in his sore head and a hundred sore spots. He swallowed back the threat of vomit. Slowly his gaze crawled up to meet Gil's soft eyes. Gil put a hand on his knee and leaned toward him.

"You're safe, kid. I'm here. They're going to take us back in a minute. Are you with me?" Malcolm sniffed and nodded. He rubbed his eyes with a shaking hand. He felt Gil's gaze rest on it. He made a fist and pulled it under his other arm.

"I'm fine." He lied. Gil laughed. Malcolm shot him a surprised glare. Gil shook his head.

"This is why we should have gone directly to the airport like I told you." Malcolm offered a rueful smile.

"I think I might be ready to take that vacation."

"Seriously?"

"But now we have a murder…"

"No, Bright, absolutely not!" Malcolm gave Gil a small smile. It was one of his rare genuine ones. Gil leaned forward and gently hugged his kid knowing he'd already lost that argument, for now.