Chapter Text
Really, he’s surprised it hadn’t happened sooner. They’re chasing a suspect through an alleyway, and Malcolm is in the lead. His lungs are burning but the suspect isn’t giving up. The others are hot on his heels.
That’s when the suspect decides to round a sharp corner, and Malcolm follows, but the turn isn’t as graceful as he wanted it to be and there’s a sharp pain as his ankle rolls awkwardly against the pavement. It’s stupid. A small injury. But he can’t help but cry out in surprise as he falls to his side, right into the street.
He’s so shocked by the absurdity of it that for a moment he just sits there, and watches as Dani chases after the suspect. She’s the fastest out of them, after all. She’ll get him. JT and Gil come round the corner and stop when they see Malcolm all but chilling in the gutter.
JT smirks. “What, did you trip?”
Malcolm grimaces, and takes Gil’s offered hand. “Something like that.”
Gil hauls him to his feet, and Malcolm winces. “You okay?”
There’s that familiar look of concern in his eyes, one Malcolm is too used to by this point. He feels his face heat up. He’d just tripped, landed awkwardly on his ankle, that was all. It wasn’t a big deal. It’s not like he was shot, or stabbed. It was silly, really.
“I’m fine, go.”
But Dani is already calling them to tell them she got the suspect and will meet them back at the car. They start to head back, but the moment Malcolm tries to walk, he hisses in pain. Yup, that was definitely sprained. Gil and JT turn back to him, wondering what the hold up was. They notice how he favors his foot.
“Malcolm, what’s wrong?” Gil asks.
Malcolm raises the pant leg of his suit, which is dirty from falling in the street. His ankle is already swelling. “I might have landed on my ankle wrong…”
JT laughs, not in a cruel way but in teasing and disbelief. “The kid sprained his ankle!”
Malcolm all but pouts. “Shut up.”
“Stay here, I’ll bring the car around,” Gil says, but Malcolm waves him off.
“It’s fine, I’ll make it.”
He tries to walk again, but it’s a pathetic show. Gil slings Malcolm’s arm over his shoulder and tries to pull him along, giving him something to lean on to, but it’s slow going, and Malcolm is hissing in pain the whole five feet they get before JT stops them.
“This is taking too long. Dani is going to take the suspect in by herself at this point.” He knocks off Gil’s grip on Malcolm and grabs him by the waist.
“Wait- What are you doing?” Malcolm asks, only to yelp in surprise as JT literally throws Malcolm over his shoulder in a fireman carry.
“This is faster, trust me,” JT says, and motions for Gil to follow.
Malcolm’s face burns as he glares at the ground. “Put me down! I’ll be fine!”
“You were walking like a wounded puppy, Bright,” Gil says.
Malcolm looks up to see Gil smiling at him, teasing. “It’s just a sprained ankle.”
“And walking on it will only make it worse,” JT adds. “It’s not a big deal. I’ve carried injured soldiers on my back before.”
“Yeah, soldiers who were shot in the leg or whatever, not a sprained ankle!” Malcolm objects. He grunts and lets his head fall. “This is embarrassing.”
They had tried to take him to the hospital, but Malcolm made such a fuss that they gave up. He was not going to have a doctor look at his poor ankle like a little kid. However, Gil made him agree to being escorted home. JT and Dani would question the suspect themselves. Gil drove Malcolm home.
“I think I can make it from here.”
Gil raises his brow at Malcolm who sits in his passenger seat. “No, you will not. I am going to go inside with you and make sure you don’t walk around on that foot. We need you back in the precinct soon, and we can’t have that if you walk around on it and make it worse. You’re important to the team, Malcolm.”
“I don’t need a babysitter,” Malcolm sighs.
“You want me to pick you up like JT did?” Gil asks, giving him a look.
Malcolm side-eyes him. “I’d like to see you try, old man.”
Gil feigns offense. “That was a low blow.”
Malcolm goes to make another witty remark but Gil is already out of the car and making his way to the passenger side. He doesn’t pick Malcolm up, but he wraps a sturdy arm around Malcolm’s waist and helps him up the steps to the loft. Each step hurts more and more. It’s like his ankle is on fire, the tendons all jumbled up and throbbing. He can’t stop the minute grunts of pain and he tries not to lean too heavily into Gil as he unlocks the door and leads them in. He still can’t believe all the fuss over a sprained ankle .
“The couch or the bed?” Gil asks.
“Couch.”
Once Malcolm is laid out on the couch, Gil goes to the fridge to grab some ice. Malcolm watches him go, biting his lip. He doesn’t like sitting around. He tells himself it’s only until Gil leaves. He’ll heal just fine on his own.
Gil comes back with a makeshift ice pack. He grabs one of the pillows and gently lifts Malcolm’s leg before shifting the pillow between the coffee table and Malcolm’s foot. He then lays the ice pack over the injury, then returns to the kitchen for some water and some pain killers. When he gets back, Malcolm has turned the TV on to the news. The background noise is comforting. With the ice on his ankle and the elevation, his foot is feeling better already.
Gil offers him the painkiller and water, and once Malcolm has taken it, he sits down on the couch beside Malcolm, satisfied. Malcolm glances at him, brow furrowed in confusion.
“What are you doing?” he asks bluntly.
Gil raises a brow at him. “I know what you’re doing. The moment I leave you’ll be back on your feet. I’m staying here to make sure you stay put .”
Malcolm groans and throws his head against the back of the couch. “Gil, I told you I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Yeah, you do,” Gil says, and ruffles Malcolm’s hair fondly. “You’re stubborn.”
“What’re you going to do if I have to go to the bathroom?” Malcolm challenges.
“Then I’ll drag your sorry ass to the bathroom and wait outside the door.”
Malcolm squints his eyes at him, but it lacks any heat. “Fine. You can stay.”
“You don’t have a choice, kid.”
He’s back at the precinct in no time.