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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“I can create a place of peace and safety no matter where I am.” drones from Malcolm’s lips when he broke from unconsciousness. “I can create a place of peace and safety no matter where I am.”
“That’s right. Do your daily affirmations just like I taught you. You’re not really here. And you’re not really in a place of peace and safety. Now. Collect your thoughts. The more you breathe, the more ordered those thoughts will be.” Gabrielle coaxes.
“I’m losing a lot of blood.”
“Everything you need to fix that is right here.” she lifts her arms around herself rhetorically. “First priority: stop the bleeding,”she instructs. Pained groans leave his throat at his attempt at sitting up. Ripping the end of his ruined dress shirt folding it into a pad applying pressure to his wound. “That’s better. Now, I know what you’re thinking--”
“Of course you do.” he exhales an exhausted breath. “You’re a stress-induced hallucination.” he hissed.
“Look at Mr. Know-it-all. You think Watkins is going to shed a light on the girl in the box, is that it? Solve all your problems.”
“He can tell me about her.” his voice breaks.
“Let her go. Stop tying your traumas up into her. She’s not the reason you’re like this. We know why you’re like this. Watkins doesn’t matter.”she ranted.
“Watkins can help me,” he whines.
“He can kill you.” she snaps kneeling to meet his eyes.
A stifled whimper breaks his throat. He didn’t need this. Wheezing as he inhaled deeply through his nose then out. Lowering himself back onto the floor. Burying his face into the dirty cement pounding his shackled fist onto the ground. Failing to alleviate the pulsing burn in his gut.
“What are you doing down there handsome?” slowly lifting his head pleading for the room to stop spinning just for a moment. The blurry vision trailed up black dress pants. Tears pricked his eyes catching sight of those chestnut locks freely gracing broad shoulders. “We have a date scheduled for...”he looks to his watch raising his brows.“...well hours ago.” he corrects.
“I’m so sorry, Austin.” his voice cracks.
“That’s sweet.”he smiles. “But I’m just a figment of your imagination caused by blood loss and your body beginning to go into shock.”he quickly rattles off giving the sound of disgust stepping around the red puddle that was now surrounding the Profiler.“Stop trying to profile and, for once in your life, think of yourself.” he scolds.
“But...” he trails off looking to Grace who laid cradled in his arms.
“Exactly!”Austin exclaims clapping his hands together. “How is she going to get out of this mess if you’re added to John’s repertoire.” he kneels to Malcolm’s eye level balancing on his toes, hands clasped in front of him. Most of his hair covered one eye adding an unsettling stare that burrowed into Malcolm’s soul. “Where are you, Malcolm?”
