Archive of Our Own ^beta

Malcolm wiggled his toes in the rainbow coloured fuzzy socks that cover his feet, relishing in the feel of the super soft material that was helping to keep his perpetually cold feet toasty warm and comfortable. After what felt like weeks of feeling miserable and sick, he was finally on the mend with the painkillers, antibiotics, steroids and anti-emetics killing most of the symptoms that had been making him feel like death warmed up.

When he had first opened up the ribbon tied box that had been left in his loft, he’d been nervous about what he’d find in it, wondering if he should call his team in case it was more sinister in nature than it seemed. But the small card taped near the ribbon, signed by his team, which simply stated “It’s not a bomb, open it,” mostly reassured him that it was kindness that saw it left there and not malice. When he finally got around to opening it with his still shaky hands, he’d promptly cried. Inside were thoughtful and heartfelt gifts from his team to help him feel better and get well quickly. Just like the care packages that Jackie and Gil used to send him when he was in college and feeling homesick for the Arroyo’s care, he instantly felt the love.

The first thing laying across the top was a small note pinned to the hand crocheted blanket that Malcolm recognised as Jackie’s. Gil’s running script told him to rest and use Jackie’s special blanket to feel better soon. Gil cherished it and always told him it made him get better quickly when he was unwell as it was like getting a hug from his beautiful lost wife. Malcolm was man enough to admit that he’d let the tears flow down his face as he had wrapped it around his shivering frame and felt like he was eleven again, back in the Arroyo family home, being enveloped in Gil and Jackie’s arms after a nightmare. He vowed he would handle it with care, so that it would be there for Gil again the next time he needed a dose of Jackie’s love.

JT’s was a pot of vapor rub with instructions noted on a scrap of paper in a short all caps note, to rub it on both his chest and his feet. Then there was a neatly wrapped wax paper parcel that revealed some of Tally’s home butterscotch toffees to help soothe his throat with a note telling him to just let her know if he ran out and needed more. He was pretty sure he had enough to get him through the next six sore throats he had in his life. Malcolm had been unsure about the slimy goop going anywhere on his person, let alone his feet, but in the end he had shrugged and followed the blunt instructions and had been pleasantly surprised to be able to breathe freely for the first time in over a week. He had made sure to religiously reapply it after every shower, feeling the teams care with every clear inhale and buttery smoothed swallow.

Dani’s had been a pale blue rubber hot water bottle with a cute tropical bird patterned cover that he had gratefully filled straight away and hugged to his aching chest. It was the first time he had felt remotely warm since dragging himself out of bed that day. The fevers and chills had still been plaguing him when they had left it and he had never been so grateful for a heat source in all his life as he curled around the concentrated heat from the bottle. Sunshine had enjoyed sitting on it whenever she was out and he put it to one side. Instantly flying over to nuzzle into the warmth amongst the brightly coloured birds. He had made sure to send the team pictures of her being so cute to their group chat. He’d been sure Sunshine had preened happily when he told her all the positive reactions her pictures had garnered, especially from Dani and Edrisa, who had sent through heart eye emojis and adoring gifs for every single one.

Finally, on the bottom, creating a soft nest for all the other treasures, had been Edrisa’s gift. Multiple pairs of obnoxiously bright rainbow coloured fuzzy socks. When he had first pulled them out of the box, he had thought they were scarves or something similar, being so bulky and soft. Once he had unfolded a pair he had chuckled lightly to himself, too scared of setting off another coughing fit to really let his mirth out, as he had realised they were a pair of the softest socks he had ever seen or felt. He’d never been a huge fan of wearing just socks indoors with his loft being centrally heated and temperature controlled, but since this illness had hit him so hard with fevers and chills that left him constantly shivering and unable to get warm, he was willing to try anything. Within minutes of putting them on, he knew he would be wearing them for the next week while he recovered because they were like warm clouds hugging his feet. Finally he felt warm all over and they were so soft he didn’t even feel the hardwood floors beneath his feet as he moved between his bed and the couch.

He was a convert.

Fuzzy socks were the best.

Now, almost at the end of his awful sickness journey, he curled himself up on the couch and basked in the love of his team. The silly fuzzy socks would forever be a fixture of his at home attire. Their simple comfort and burst of colour made him smile every time he stretched out his toes in the soft embrace of the fabric, or caught a glimpse of the shock of colour in the corner of his eye.

All these small but thoughtful things let him know that no matter what, his team had his back and were his friends, not just work colleagues.

For the first time in a long time, Malcolm felt like he belonged and he would do whatever he needed to, to hold onto it.