#scalpelandcandy

[heprofiles]

@scalpelandcandy​ from here

This feeling - he hasn’t felt like this in A LONG TIME. A panicked sort of feeling that leaves him GASPING for air. Is he having a panic attack? It feels like the walls are closing in on him, it feels like the exit to this cell is A MILLION MILES AWAY.

This isn’t physical, this is MENTAL, the panic settling in - he’s not sure a chest congestion and cough relief is going to help this. Fingers curl around the fabric of his shirt, breathing coming out in harsh sharp breaths. It feels like he’s inhaling glass with each and every breath he takes.

Sit down.

Yes, probably a good idea to sit before he falls down. So this time, he doesn’t question Martin and instead moves to sit down in the chair near Martin’s desk. It’s over the red line but Malcolm doesn’t care - Martin won’t hurt him. At least, he doesn’t think he will.

“P-Panic attack....it’s a panic attack.” Malcolm breathes out between harsh gasps, something had triggered it - some sort of memory, and while he KNOWS it’s there, it isn’t easy to get rid of. Deep breath in, deep breath out, it’s not helping but he’s TRYING.

[surgeonwedded]

@scalpelandcandy​ from [x]

Jessica shivers at his touch. Reaches up to guide his hand to her heart, unselfconsciously close to the gentle swell of her breast. This is intimacy, years in: touch without expectation, a familiar dance and an even more familiar gentle pressure as he kisses her.

“I would hope so. It’s your fault, after all, stealing it from me like that.”

[brightprofiler]

@scalpelandcandy​   ||  random inbox stuff

❛everyone says i talk a lot. but what am i supposed to do when i have so much to say?❜ Martin Whitly chuckled as he leaned back in his chair and looked at his son. (scalpelandcandy)

      malcolm leans against the far wall  ,  his eyes already rolling in annoyance at his father’s NARCISSIM  .  and they say he has tendencies  ,  martin whitly is personified and malcolm can’t ever fathom being related to this man  . once a man that was idolized in the eyes of a ten year old boy is now gazed at in dismay anytime those blue eyes lay on him  . “ Have you ever thought that maybe its for the good of everyone is for you to just be silent  ??  oh  .  forgive me that would suggest that you think of anyone other than yourself  .  “ 

[heprofiles]

@scalpelandcandy​ liked for a post ep10 starter ft Martin

A month held captive, a week spent in the hospital, another week recovering at home and now, here he is, standing in Martin’s cell once more. He shouldn’t be here but he feels like he OWES his father.

He sits in SILENCE, flexing bandaged fingers back and forth. It hurts but the pain is GROUNDING and keeps him TOGETHER in a moment like this. Five minutes must have passed before Malcolm finally gains the strength and courage to speak up.

“They told me you had a huge part to play in finding me.” Was his father pissed about Paul kidnapping him? Did he REALLY care that much? Once upon a time, Malcolm was SURE that the protective and loving father thing was all an ACT - now he’s not so sure.

“.....Thank you.” Two words he never thought he’d say to Martin Whitly but here they are. Still, he doesn’t look at him, and instead he’s staring at his broken hand. He finds it hard to look at ANYONE lately, not just Martin.

[surgeonwedded]

@scalpelandcandy​ from [x]

She isn’t shaking. Yet. There’s still too much adrenaline coursing through her. She’s still hyperaware, muscles jumping under Martin’s every touch. When he gets the knife from her, her hand immediately clenches back into a fist.

Behind her, against her, Jessica can feel her husband trembling. At first, she takes it for horror. But he sounds...and he calls her beautiful. Her mind skips from track to track with too much ease, and confusion mars the lifeline of being held close, more than forgiven. 

She needs to focus. Damage control. The heiress with the knife in the kitchen. What will people think? 

“I didn’t--we need to call the police. An ambulance. I need to check on the children.” 

[heprofiles]

@scalpelandcandy​ from here

He doesn’t mean to BREAK DOWN in the middle of a case. He doesn’t mean to let his emotions overwhelm him or for Gil to get worried about him but EVERYTHING is becoming too much for him. It’s OVERWHELMING and honestly? It’s a wonder he hasn’t broken down like this sooner.

It had been TOO MUCH to hope that Gil wouldn’t come looking and as much as he tries muffle the sounds against his hand, it’s POINTLESS. He knows who enters the room without looking up and long before he speaks.

The sound of the door can be heard clicking shut, shutters being closed, and then Gil’s voice rings out with a simple utter of his name. He doesn’t move his hand away from his face until Gil is beside him and fingers brush over his neck in comfort - the same way he used to do when he was a child.

He knows the question means so much more - he knows exactly what it means. He’s just not sure he knows all the answers. “I-I’m sorry.” He finds himself saying between the tears and when he looks up and over at Gil, the tears fall down his face fast - it’s so much more than the case that has gotten to him.

“I....I can’t do this Gil.” Do what, he has to ask? It has nothing to do with the case, the case he can do, the case is what he’s GOOD at. If Gil knows him, he knows it’s NOT THE CASE he’s talking about. “I don’t mean the case I mean....I-I can’t keep going on like this.” Afraid, not having answers, in some deep dark hole of depression - there’s so much he feels like he can’t do.

He just....wants to GIVE UP. Give up entirely. Sometimes he feels like everyone would be MUCH BETTER OFF if he just.....gave up on everything entirely. 

He feels LOST. Will he always feel this lost?

[brightwasright]

@scalpelandcandy​  -- send me ┼ for my muse's reaction to walking in on your muse :: crying

it’s the last thing Malcolm expects when he enters the holding cell. 

as a general rule lately, the good doctor had been rather excited to see his boy whenever Malcolm came to visit-- well, excited in only the way a serial killer could be, he supposed. a feigned exhilaration. a wide smile without the Duchenne marker. the young man squints a moment, assessing the situation before waving a hand in nonchalance to the guard at the door as he finished closing the heavy door completely. the ambiance of the room was something familiar -- to them both, he gathered, as they heard variations of the same tune day in and day out in the white noise of their surroundings. florescent lights buzzing and the soft rustle of clothing.

Malcolm clears his throat, breaking the silence abruptly before taking a few steps closer to the line that indicated he should step no further. the invisible wall that was supposed to, what . . . keep others safe? Malcolm wasn’t so certain. if the Doctor wanted his way, he’d get his way -- as had been proven before in the past. so why, now, was he acting in such a way? such a way that was confusing and not at all like the surgeon. his father, perhaps . . . he had been a bit of a compassionate man in his own way, but Malcolm knew better. these tears that streaked the man’s face was no more than a show for sympathy.

❝ What seems to be the problem, Doctor? ❞    he asks, stepping ever closer until the toes of his shoes scuff the line. Malcolm wishes he could empathize with his father. he wishes he could scrounge up one inch of compassion for the man that stood before him, but he just couldn’t. he was having a difficult time finding empathy for many people lately. 

[silkenwebsfangsofsteel]

Martin: Do you think I could fit 10 marshmallows in my mouth?

Cale, as nicely as possible: You’re a hazard to society.

Necra: And a coward; do 20!