He'd heard the initial clatter. The damn oven door sticking again and he sighs, rolling off the sofa to go help. He really needs to grease the damn thing up but then there's more than a clatter, there's a goddamn cacophony and Mal is not so quietly losing his SHIT in the kitchen. Duke's scrabbled his way under the sofa and York- he's never seen Malcolm like this. It doesn't make sense it's just a goddamn door and he manages to duck the first thing thrown.

Tries to get in close, tries to calm him down, all open hands and soft voice and shh, boo, shh, it's okay come on just talk about this-

Which is how he gets the mug right in the face and the follow through kick (not with the bionic leg thank god) that knocks his legs out from under him. Swearing on the floor he shoves himself away till, well. Till it passes. Pressed up against the wall, arms up, bleeding from a cut on his hairline and just- saying everything that he's been saying the whole time.

"-onna be okay, it's okay you're home, you're safe, there's no one else here Malcolm it's just you and me, okay? You're safe, I promise you're safe."