tinstar | Malcolm x Raylan: Cowboy Surprise

Malcolm x Raylan: Cowboy Surprise

Art was suspicious right off the bat when Raylan took a week off with the express note that his phone would be Out Of Order til the next Monday, but the Chief Marshal wasn't going to look gift horses in the mouth. Not when it suggested he'd have a few days of peace, until Raylan caved to turning his phone back on again. Still, he watched the younger Marshal walk out of the office and promised himself to check into the state of Harlan within 3 days to make sure that the place wasn't on fire. The smoke would reach him before he called, he was sure.

But Art didn't have much to worry about - Raylan had no plans on staying in the state for his vacation, beyond one day spent closing up Arlo's and securing it the best way he could before getting on a plane to New York City. He wanted to surprise Malcolm - it'd been near two months since they'd last seen each other and frankly, Raylan was tired of missing him. They'd called and texted, stayed in a fairly consistent, if odd houred, touch but it wasn't the same.

Once he landed, Raylan rented a car and navigated his way towards Malcolm's apartment, stopping to grab a bouquet of flowers. It was.. Extra, but Raylan didn't want to show up empty handed, just in case. Thirty minutes later, Malcolm's door buzzer was being hit, like Raylan was here to deliver something. Well, he was, but that was half the fun.

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"You were comfortable. Not reckless. Fallin' asleep with me is not recklessness. You aren't ruining anythin'." As much as Raylan wanted to be gentle about it all, he couldn't help a bit of the underlying steel and leftover anger seeping into the echoed word.

"I still want to marry you. I don't care what happens. I don't care how many times you sleepwalk or how many times I've gotta save you. It doesn't matter. Nothing changes that."

Malcolm flinched slightly at the bite, but he did appreciate the underlying sentiment and he reached for Raylan again, because he'd have seen the flinch and Malcolm didn't want him to edit himself anymore than he wanted Malcolm to.

"I know that," he said softly, fingers playing at the edges of Raylan's shirt. "Underneath the... anxiety, I... I know that," he admitted, drawing closer. "There are a lot of voices in my memories that tell me what I can't do but... they're not right. I know they're not."

The flinch immediately made him feel guilty. He knew it wasn't Malcolm's fault. This thought path wasn't intentional. But they'd just gotten on one of happiness and surety - Raylan did want them to fall off it. He had to hold onto this.

His hands slid a little further, a little tighter around Malcolm's waist as profiler stepped in, dark eyes locked on Malcolm's face.

"Then I am talking to your anxiety," he said, more softly. "Any risk that's here, I'll own. That's not yours to bear. I'm choosing this. You don't get to." Malcolm was stuck in his own head and Raylan understood that. All he could do was continue to be a steady wall of consistent protective need and want.

Malcolm closed his eyes and leaned forward into Raylan's chest again.

"I'm not okay," he whispered like it was a secret.

He tried to keep it a secret.

"But I feel like I am when I'm here with you." A beat. "When my brain's not attacking me," he conceded. Stabbing him on the inside. Making him jump off a roof on the outside.

Raylan shifted a hand up to cup the back of Malcolm's head, holding him close but with no resistance so that if he wanted to pull away, he could.

"That's okay," he replied gently. Malcolm didn't have to be okay. Raylan knew he wasn't. He knew he was trying though and that was what Raylan was sure would pull Malcolm through life. He wanted to help.

"Another reason to get you down here mostly full time, as soon as you can," he muttered softly, thumb brushing the small of Malcolm's back.

"I have to visit my father twice every ten days until he testifies," he said with a sniff. "But I've been twice this week so I can get away with at least nine days here."

Unless he was called back for something urgent.

"I want to go to bed with you. I want to go to bed properly," he murmured. "If you think you can sleep after that, I want to go with you."

He hoped so. Nine days was a long time for him to be out of New York and Raylan was sure someone would call and ferry Malcolm away again far too soon. His grip tightened a little more around Malcolm, half to help the ache in his own heart at listen to Malcolm in tears.

"Give me about ten minutes and I will be." He still needed that drink and a few minutes where he wasn't in an emotional tornado. "And even if I can't, I want to lay there with you and pretend like we can."

He nodded, stepping back so Raylan could do what he needed to do, wiping his eyes one more time and drifting over to the counter to open one of his pill bottles. He had debated whether he should take a dose.

He was going to take it. The panic attack needed help going away this time.

He slipped the pill into his mouth and walked around the counter to get a glass of water, filling it halfway and drinking it all.

Raylan grabbed their glasses from earlier on the way and headed into the kitchen, dropping one off in the sink and reusing his. HE only poured out a finger and instead of sipping it, Raylan slammed it down his throat in one go, swallowing with a grimace before putting his glass in beside Malcolm's.

He watched as Malcolm swallowed the pill.

"Can I ask what that was? Or I guess, which one that was?" Just so he knew. Just in case something happened.

"Just a Xanax," he said. "Alprazolam. It's a benzodiazapine. For anxiety and panic attacks." He looked over. "Having both right now."

He put a hand over his chest and took a breath, blowing it out through his mouth.

"It'll pass."

Raylan slid behind him and slipped his arm around Malcolm's waist to hold him again.

"Let's go lay down then. Maybe that'll help." He was happy to lead them but he wanted Malcolm to say okay and go of his own free will. That felt important, for some reason, when you slept in chains.

Malcolm nodded and turned around in his arms so he could lean up and claim a chaste, almost desperate kiss.

"I love you, Raylan. I'm sorry about all the trouble."

Raylan hummed a little note into it and shook his head at the apology.

"It's not trouble. You're worth all of it anyway. A hundred times over." Kissing him again, Raylan pulled back, slipping his hand into Malcolm's and heading towards the bedroom. Once there, he turned down Malcolm's side before going to turn down his own and crawl in.

"Do you think you're going to be able to sleep?"

He nodded.

"We got... what, about three hours on the couch? I've been up for a couple of days. Didn't get much in between there. Had a head injury... I guess it was the day before yesterday now. Just took a central nervous system depressant. I'll sleep. For a few hours. Then wake you up again, probably. Maybe we should have soundproofed the whole apartment."

He climbed into his side, picking up the cuff closest to the edge of the bed and worked it onto his wrist.

"Though I guess it wouldn't have helped. We were outside."

That meant that Raylan didn't get to hold him exactly the way he wanted to but more sleep for the guy who'd been up for 48 hours was a good thing, so he wasn't going to complain.

"Few more hours then," he said, scooting to snuggle up as close as he could once Malcolm was strapped in. "We can apologize to the neighbours later.. I love you too." The kiss into Malcolm's shoulder following that was mandatory.

Malcolm was still too emotionally piqued not to well a little at that and he twisted to find Raylan's lips with one more good night kiss before settling into his pillows.

For the moment, he stared at the chair in the corner, listening to Raylan breathe.

Raylan met it, reaching up to cup Malcolm's face as he did, both to touch him and help with the twist before settling back down into the sheets, arm secure over Malcolm's waist. He wasn't letting Malcolm go anywhere and in the future, he'd be quicker to react. Quicker to understand.

Would Malcolm be mad at him over the coming days for having been sharp? He'd have to see.

But for now, the man he loved was in his arms, he was in bed, and it was quiet. For now, it was all that he could ask for. It took about 45 minutes before Raylan finally slipped off, breathing going shallow and even.

Malcolm had been startled by the sharpness, but never mad. If anything, he'd have understood an angrier reaction than that.

He knew better.

It took him longer to fall asleep, he was so wound up, but the xanax did its work and slowed his internal buzzing and he finally drifted off. The sun was already coming up by the time he began to stir.

It didn't matter that it had only be a couple of hours, as soon as Malcolm started to stir, Raylan woke up, never having really gone into a deep restful sleep. It was a bleary kind of awake, but one ready to sharpen if he judged it necessary.

"You okay?" It was an automatic response, an at the ready gauge of how alert he needed to be. He wasn't even sure if Malcolm was awake.

Malcolm was not awake. He stirred fitfully, finally pulling at his restraints.

"No! Let me go!" He pulled he other way. "LET ME GO!"

"Malcolm," Raylan started as he shifted onto one elbow so he could reach over with his other hand, having well gotten his answer, to shake Malcolm. "Malcolm, you're dreaming again. Wake up." The shake turned into a sliding hand up to his face. "Baby c'mon," he followed, a bit louder and firmer than before.

"No..." A choked sob as he was shaken. "No..."

But at 'Baby c'mon' he jolted slightly, straining against the far restraint a moment before blinking awake, glancing around - almost frantically at first - but then he saw Raylan's face.

Restraints jangled as he scrubbed a hand over his own face.

"Hi," he said softly. "What time is it? Did I wake you up?"

Oh good, Raylan thought to himself, no early morning slaps.

He gave Malcolm a soft smile and sighed with a little shake of his head. "Sometime after dawn. Hi." Swiftly unbuckling Malcolm's closest hand, Raylan dropped himself back into the pillows with another breath and rolled over to pull his watch into view.

"Six thirty," he elaborated. "Later than I thought." Earlier than he'd hoped.

"What time to do you have to get up?" Malcolm asked, unbuckling his other arm. "Do you want me to let you sleep some more?"

"An hour, thereabouts," Raylan sayd, rolling back over to drape an arm over Malcolm's center and try lazily to drag him close. "I just want you to lay here a minute."

He was still tired, but he'd find a way to deal with it. Coffee and movement would help. Last night's events, if he could even call a few hours before 'last night', had left a tension in him he could still feel.

"I think you might have accidentally gotten five or six hours."

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