Oooh could I request Malcolm being kidnapped by some serial killer and the reader saving him and then at night comforting him? Cuz cuz cuz angst and fluff are 👌🏻
You are very right about angst and fluff, they go so well together. Also I love how I’m starting a small army of prodigal son fans (if you haven’t tried it, WATCH ONE EPISODE I BEG OF YOU) anyway... I hope you enjoy this 🖤
When you found out Malcolm had been captured, your first reaction was just to sigh. Because of course your chaotic reckless idiot boyfriend who was far too smart for his own good had gotten himself kidnapped again. Of course.
What you didn’t know what was this serial killer was different. As you worked to try and find him, he was getting under Malcolm’s skin. Making Malcolm doubt himself and doubt everything he knew.
Malcolm was usually able to remain calm during kidnapping situations. But this time was different, this killer was different. He found himself feeling, for the first time, genuinely scared. He was beginning to doubt that anyone would save him. He was beginning to doubt whether he profiled correctly.
Then, of course, the door was kicked down and there you stood. The other officers handled taking the killer down but you focused on Malcolm. You were the one that untied him and brought him to your chest to remind him that he was okay.
You rode with him in the ambulance to the hospital. Partly because you were afraid to let him out of your sights and partly because he wouldn’t let go of your hand.
When you took him back to his apartment that night, he asked you to stay. It was phrased as a causal question, but you could tell it was really a plea. Whatever had happened had really affected him and now he was afraid to be alone.
So pressed a kiss to his cheek and reminded him that you would always be there. Then sent him to go shower because he had blood on his shirt and you didn’t want to know who it belonged to.
You made dinner, something simple and easy on the stomach, and then practically blackmailed Malcolm into eating half of it. As much as he always complained about your need to make sure he had a vaguely healthily lifestyle, he was forever grateful for it. It not only ensured that he didn’t work himself into a coma, but it also made him feel more safe and loved than he had in a long time.
When it was time for bed, you shackled him up and then lay next to him. You’d move to the spair bedroom once he fell asleep. But you wanted to stay until then.
Of course he insisted that you didn’t have to. Said that a quick kiss and some help with his restraints was all he needed. But you could see the fear in his eyes. And you knew he’d fall asleep better if someone was watching over him.
So, you picked up a book and read until he fell asleep, his cheek pressed to your thigh. Then you slowly removed yourself and moved to the spair bedroom for the night.
As much as you wanted to ask Malcolm what had happened, you learnt a long time ago that he would talk when he’s ready. What he did need, however, was someone to help him through it. Look after him, make sure he doesn’t lose track of himself.
You considered yourself privileged to have earned that position.
