Archive of Our Own ^beta

Malcolm begrudgingly admitted that he’s was feeling a hundred times better now, after Gil had conceived him to stay and have the treatments. His throat was still sore and his voice was still wreaked, but his almost constant nausea was gone and he had more energy than he’d had in at least a week. He almost felt bad for his, well he wouldn’t call it a tantrum, but Gil would, when they wanted to admit him to treat his dehydration.

Now he just needed to conceive Gil to let him go back to the Precinct for a couple of hours while he was still feeling good, before benching him for the week the doctors told him he needed to rest and recuperate. He didn’t think he would need that long with the antibiotics and steroids they had prescribed. He was sure he’d be feeling better within a day or two and could soldier through the rest of his recovery without jeopardising it.

Malcolm turned to Gil, who was still looking through the prescriptions the doctor had given him while they slowly made their way back out to the car, and went to plead his case. Before he could even make a sound, Gil held up his hand and gave him a look that had him clamping his mouth shut and looking down at the ground, feeling like a scolded puppy.

“Don’t even try. You might feel a bit better now, but you need rest and your medication. The only place we’re going is to the Pharmacy. Then I’m taking you straight home,” Gil’s stern tone, made him wince involuntarily. It was clear his mind was set already, but maybe if Malcolm went along with Gil’s plan and he was able to show him he was still feeling good after the Pharmacy run, Gil might let him get a quick visit to the Precinct in. At least long enough to grab a couple of his files to go over during his forced confinement. Surely he could still help while he was resting. He’d only be reading and sending off email notes for the team to follow up. He wouldn’t be doing the actual work.

Malcolm sighed as if in resignation and slinked his way over to the waiting Cornet. He tried to ignore Gil’s suspicious stare at him over the roof of the car before they both dropped into their seats.

“Pharmacy, then home, got it?” Gil’s voice was laced with suspicion. Malcolm tried to temper it by nodding meekly with a croak out, “yeah, got it.”

Malcolm pulled off his mask and stuffed it into his pocket, then slipped on his seat belt and leaned back into the seat shutting his eyes as the lurch of the car moving set a slight churn going, low in his belly. No, he was fine. He just needed to get through the Pharmacy run, then a quick trip to the Precinct and he could pass out on the couch for the rest of the day. It was just a stupid virus…and a mildish infection. He would be fine.

By the time Gil pulled up the car to a stop at the Pharmacy, Malcolm’s nausea was back enough to make him need to take a few deep breaths before he could contemplate getting out of the car. He did his best to disguise it, by taking his time to undo his belt and checking is pockets. When he met Gil’s eyes as he stepped up beside him on the curb, he was pretty sure Gil hadn’t completely bought the act. He cleared his throat, only just remembering to hide his wince as his throat burned at the abuse and nodded for Gil to lead the way. Gil’s raised eyebrows and sigh before he moved off toward the Pharmacy up the street had him giving his own sigh. That, of course, just irritated his throat more and he had to swallow excessively to stop himself coughing. It all did absolutely nothing good for his nausea and he barely managed to stop himself from groaning out loud at his body’s betrayal of him.

When he got to the Pharmacy door, he saw the sign requesting masks be worn if you were showing any signs of cold or flu symptoms. He quickly reached into his pocket and retrieved the mask they had given him at the clinic. He didn’t want to be responsible for giving this awful virus to anyone that may not have the immune system to fight it off. He quickly adjusted it to fit properly and then stepped through the door after Gil. He took some of the available hand sanitiser and looked around for the signs for where to put his prescriptions in. Before he could find it, Gil was pointing towards the back of the store and telling him to follow him.

He followed Gil through the large store, weaving in between people and trying his best to give as much distance as he could as he passed anyone. He got a few pointed looks at his mask before people shuffled away. Malcolm was actually grateful as it meant he didn’t have to avoid them. Gil just scowled at anyone that gave him odd looks and Malcolm was pretty sure they may have been more fearful of Gil’s wrath than Malcolm’s contagions. They finally made it to the counter where he could hand his scripts in. Discreetly as possible, he wiped away the sweat that was suddenly beading across his face as his fever kicked back in at the exertion. Gil’s pointed look at him, had him smiling back at him to placate him, but he realised Gil couldn’t really see his smile under his mask and just turned back to the waiting assistant.

“How can I help you today?” the pharmacy assistant asked politely, holding out a hand to collect the scripts that Gil was holding out over the counter. Malcolm hadn’t even noticed him pull them out.

“Ah, just need to get those filled, please,” Malcolm requested, his voice a gravelled whisper that barely made it through his mask.

“Oh, ah, sorry, I didn’t catch that? Did you just want these filled?” the young woman’s face pinched in sympathy at him.

Malcolm nodded and sighed gratefully, which just set off a cough that took him a few moments to stop and had his throat stabbing daggers into itself with every swallow and breath he took. Dammit, he needed to show Gil he was fine, not break down at the first attempt to talk.

“Sorry, but I’ll just need to check some of your details as it doesn’t look like you’ve come to us before,” the assistant’s voice conveying her sorrow for having to make him talk again.

After a couple minutes of basically yelling to be heard to give all the details she needed to get him on the system, Malcolm’s voice was almost gone completely and he was struggling to suppress the urge to cough, that threatened with every breath. Gil’s hand on his shoulder, lending him support with a gentle squeeze of his hand, had him leaning into him subconsciously before he realised and he cursed himself internally. So much for putting on a good show.

“Come on, go sit down while we wait. You look like you're about to keel over again,” Gil urged him with another squeeze to his shoulder before guiding him with his arm over to a set of chairs, before he could protest.

Gil pushed him down into a chair and took up a stance beside him, almost like a guard. Malcolm wasn’t sure if it was his mask or Gil’s stern stare at anyone that came close that had the chairs around him remain free despite how busy the Pharmacy was. He did his best to put on a good front, but as the time ticked by, his throat burned to the point where he was avoiding swallowing, which was doing nothing for his nausea when he did swallow the saliva that pooled in between. He was also starting to feel stiflingly hot and wanted to strip out of his jacket, but knew that would give him away and he wasn’t ready to admit defeat yet. In the end it was Gil who pushed him to take it off.

“Malcolm, stop being an idiot. Take the damn jacket off. You are making everyone else feel hot with how much you are sweating in here,” Gil growled at him under his breath so that no one else would hear them, but making it clear he would make a scene if Malcolm kept being stubborn.

Knowing that if he didn’t take it off soon, he would be humiliating himself further by vomiting across the floor as his nausea continued to swell with the growing heat, he started to pull his jacket off. Unfortunately, his muscles were not on board with this at all. The spike in his fever seemed to have a direct link to his muscle strength as he suddenly couldn’t even manage to manipulate his arms well enough to slip the jacket off his shoulders. Gil took pity on him and helped him pull the clinging jacket off and held it over his arm as he frowned down at him. His warm brown eyes were sympathetic, but his pinched lips told Malcolm he was not impressed with his current state. At this rate there was no way he was going to get Gil to agree to a quick detour to the Precinct.

Malcolm swiped his shirt clad forearm over his forehead, wiping away the sweat that was accumulating there, seemingly quicker than he could get rid of it. When a shiver ran through him as the breeze of someone passing them rushed over his skin, he gave in with a sigh and dropped his head into his palms, his elbows resting on his knees to hold his heavy head up and tried not to let the shivers be noticeable.

He was exhausted and felt like crap. Maybe he just needed to sit the investigation out for a few days, until the meds really kicked in and he felt human again. This was getting to be beyond his endurance.

Malcolm had to stifle a whimper when he felt Gil’s arm drape across his shoulder and pull him into his side. He turned to see Gil crouched next to his chair, looking over at him with concern and it was nearly his undoing.

“You ok, kid?” Gil asked him quietly, rubbing his arm as he held him in the one armed hug.

Malcolm nodded, dropping his gaze to the floor, not wanting Gil to catch the tears that were threatening to slip past his control at Gil’s blatant care and concern. He really didn’t know what he’d done to deserve Gil, but he was eternally grateful to have him when his strength was failing him. He was pretty sure that he wouldn’t have made it a few times over in his life if his mentor hadn’t been there to help pick up the pieces.

Finally after what felt like hours, but was really only about twenty minutes at most, his name was called and Gil helped him up to shuffle over to collect his medication. He nodded only half listening as the Pharmacist listed off all the dos and don’t and what to take when and with what. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t remember any of what they said, but given they were mostly directing it to Gil by the end, he was pretty sure Gil would and would give him a recap if he needed it. He was feeling so out of it by the time the Pharmacist was done, he almost started to walk out without paying. Gil thankfully guided him to the appropriate line for the check out and kept a steadying hand on his shoulder while they slowly moved up the line. When they made it to the counter five minutes later, Malcolm’s limbs were trembling with fatigue and his belly was roiling with nausea to a level that he had to concentrate on his breathing to keep it at bay. Gil must have noticed his increasing struggles as his hand had moved up to Malcolm’s shoulder and was clinging on as if he was worried Malcolm was going to drop at any second. Actually when Malcolm thought about it, he didn’t really blame him as he wasn’t that confident about his legs holding him up right now either. He leaned in on the counter, not caring how he must look right now, just needing to keep himself upright.

“Nearly done, kid. Hang in there,” Gil assured him as he deposited all of Malcolm’s medications on the counter to pay.

Malcolm fumbled, motioning towards his jacket still draped over Gil’s arm, trying to indicate without words that his wallet was in there. They had obviously spent enough years together that Gil seemed to know what he meant and rifled around in his jacket until he came up with his wallet. Malcolm gave him a wane smile, only realising afterwards that Gil wouldn’t be able to see it under the mask he was still wearing. He sighed which sets off a coughing fit that almost sees him throwing up all over the counter. Gil hurried him outside and let him lean against the wall to catch his breath and will his stomach to settle enough to make the ride home.

Gil suddenly produced a bottle of water out of nowhere. Well he probably bought in as he paid for Malcolm’s medication and he was too busy trying to keep his lungs and his stomach in situ to notice. Gil helped him take off his mask and take some small sips. He had to turn his head away after just a couple as his throat was too sore to swallow anymore and his stomach way to upset with him to accept much at this point.

Gil gave him that frown that always made Malcolm feel guilty and wanting to apologise. He tried to get a sorry out, but all he managed to produce was a mangled squeak, that had him clutching at his throat in pain, as it felt like molten lava dripped down down it, scalding him all the way.

“Come on, kid. Let’s get you home,” Gil urged him, his arms braced around his shoulders and guided him to the car. Each step felt like a mile long journey on his shaking and aching legs. By the time they had made it to the car, Malcolm’s dress shirt was clinging to him with sweat and each breath felt like he was drawing in a naked flame to scorch his throat on each inhale.

Malcolm was so tired that he let Gil manoeuvre him into the car, his legs giving out as soon as he was over the seat. Once in the seat he just leaned back into the leather and closed his eyes while letting Gil secure him in. The familiar scents of the car that had long since become ingrained in the very fabric of the car, were comforting enough to have him curling up against the door. Before he could drift off he vaguely felt his head being lifted and the soft cashmere of his jacket pillowed under his head. He smiled absently in Gil’s direction, reassured that Gil got the message from the fond squeeze of his fingers to the back of Malcolm’s neck that had him sinking down further into the seat. Soon the gentle rumble of the car was lulling him to sleep and he drifted off content that even though he didn’t get to go back to work, he was in the best place he could be right now.