Author's note: This story has been edited. I would recommend reading from the beginning as plot points and storylines have been changed for a better flow.
Wondering the empty streets of the city that never sleeps. Malcolm was searching for just that...
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-Flashback-
“Kid, What happened at Claremont?” Gil begins. “Jessica stabbed him, You were there?” From his slow and steady tone, Malcolm knew the lieutenant didn’t want to do this. Unfortunately, it was his job.
“Where are they? Are they all right?” Malcolm begins with his line of questioning.
“Dani is talking to Jessica down at the precinct and JT took Austin home. And I’m talking to you now. What happened?” Gil states firmly not wanting Malcolm to make this harder than it needed to be.
“It was the only way.” was all Malcolm could say.
-Flashback end-
-Morning at New York General Hospital-
“Bright?” Dani calls for what felt like the hundredth time.
“Sorry.” The Profiler shakes his head being brought back to reality.
“He’s in a coma?” she asks.
“Secondary to anoxic injury, which means there was a sudden cessation of oxygen to the brain.” he rambles. “So, a coma.” he summarizes.
“What are those?” she nods towards the thick bundle of papers he seemed to be wringing out in his clenched hands.
“Uh, apparently my father listed me as his health care proxy. And gave me power of attorney. God knows why.”
“Sounds kind of important.”
“Well, I don’t want it!” he barks harshly. “And I don’t want to talk about it!” he states breathing out through his nose. “Sorry.” he apologizes after realizing she was only trying to help. A few moments passed of the two watching every rise and fall of his chest. Like a zoo exhibit, Dr. Martin Whitly behind the glass.
“What do you think he’s dreaming about?” Dani asks wanting to lighten the mood.
“Coma patients can’t actually have dreams. But they do have vivid hallucinations, which can feel like horrible nightmares.” Malcolm corrects.
“So karma does exist.” she hums with a small nod.
“What would a nightmare even look like for a man like him?” Malcolm mumbles.
~.~
-At Malcolm’s Loft-
Yanking off his coat throwing his keys into a dish and coat onto a hook by the door. Looking to Sunshine and Daydream silently watching him. Even they could feel the sadness in the air.
“That’s great, Rugrat.” Malcolm follows Austin’s voice to the kitchen where he stood with his phone to his ear. “Yeah…yeah….Mmm-hmmm…” he sounds pacing around the island. “I know, but you’re gonna have to stay with Robyn and Patrick a little bit longer.” Austin's figure goes stiff. “I’m working hard to get better. Then I can run, and jump, and walk you to school without hurting my ouchie,” he answers swallowing the croak of a sob climbing up his throat. It pained Malcolm to see how much this hurt Austin. Having to lie to Grace, hideout in his loft, taking a week off from work was what needed to be done to protect him.
