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“Malcolm? Hey, you ok Kid?” Gil asks as he crouches down beside Malcolm once JT has the prep fully secured and has the medics coming in to make sure he doesn’t bleed out on them.
Malcolm glances at him quickly, his eyes glassy and welling with tears, before he ducks his head away and wipes at his tears.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m good,” Malcolm tries to assure him, still knelt on the floor and clearly struggling to rein all the emotions of the night back in.
“Yeah, you look peachy. Come on, let’s get you out of here, hey?” Gil tells him with a frown and lends his hand to help him up from the floor.
Malcolm takes it and pushes himself up to standing. He doesn’t meet Gil’s gaze for more than a second as he does and is ducking his head down once more when Gil tries to catch his gaze, his face a grimace of pain.
“Hey? Are you hurt?” Gil asks quickly, patting over his shoulders and arms to check for anything he might have missed.
Malcolm blinks up at him in confusion, “what? Oh, no, no, I’m fine. I promise,” Malcolm tries to assure him, shaking his head as he answers and pulling in a deep breath.
“Do…ah, do you need me for anything?” Malcolm asks, his voice strained in a way that immediately puts Gil on alert.
Gil looks Malcolm over, taking in the hunched shoulders, the heavy bags under his bloodshot eyes and the grimace hiding under a neutral mask. He knows the kid well enough to know that he won’t get anything out of him tonight. That he will need to go and lick his emotional wounds alone until Gil can crack the lid a little on the can of worms he has just presented to the kid with this case and try and help him work through some of this baggage he is still carrying.
Gil gives him a sad fond smile and shakes his head, “no, go home, we can get your statement tomorrow.”
Malcolm nods with a small sigh of relief and gives him a brief fleeting smile, “thanks Gil. For…for everything. I’ll just go freshen up a bit before I head out.” Malcolm replies with a sad smile that never reaches his still glassy eyes.
Gil nods knowingly, a sad frown creasing his tired features. The kid will need a moment to put it all back in its box without watchful judging eyes and then he will walk on out of here as if he didn’t just offer himself up as a sacrificial lamb to the slaughter. Gil was going to have to keep a close watch on him to make sure the cracks that had been forming since his return to his Father’s world didn’t widen and consume him whole. He’d be damned if he would let that kid tear himself apart over that miserable piece of shit Father of his. He might not have kids of his own, but Malcolm had basically become his the minute he stepped up and told him to take out his gun all those years ago. Damned if he would lose him to himself now.