Malcolm melts into the warmth of Will's arms. They somehow always take some of the sting off of fresh emotional wounds. He lingers in them; rests his cheek on Will's shoulder.
"Yeah. Um. I wasn't nice. I don't like that. Sometimes I just... can't stop myself in the moment. And so I switched to private and tried to explain to Jesus... I tried to explain where I was coming from. And I apologized. And I found out that it's not strictly that you're an inmate that makes me amoral for being here. He thinks you were my patient. I tried to explain that you had come to the office early on to check counselling out and that's how we met. That we became friends after that. That we were close friends before it became more, not... not working together professionally. He doesn't believe me. I told him he could ask you, but he just said that it bothers him how I try to soften my mistakes and don't own them. And he reiterated that he just can't have a therapist who sleeps with his patients. Someone told him that Will. Someone who isn't even involved, because we're the only ones who are. And he believes them and not me. And I don't know... I don't know what to do with that. I guess, ultimately, it doesn't matter what he thinks, it's just... it's the day Shaw called everyone I know and told them stuff about me that isn't true all over again with someone else, except proving that people do believe this crap and it does do me reputational harm." He pauses, lifts his head, pulls back just enough to look at Will's face. "I'm doing it again," he realizes, blinking.
no subject
"Yeah. Um. I wasn't nice. I don't like that. Sometimes I just... can't stop myself in the moment. And so I switched to private and tried to explain to Jesus... I tried to explain where I was coming from. And I apologized. And I found out that it's not strictly that you're an inmate that makes me amoral for being here. He thinks you were my patient. I tried to explain that you had come to the office early on to check counselling out and that's how we met. That we became friends after that. That we were close friends before it became more, not... not working together professionally. He doesn't believe me. I told him he could ask you, but he just said that it bothers him how I try to soften my mistakes and don't own them. And he reiterated that he just can't have a therapist who sleeps with his patients. Someone told him that Will. Someone who isn't even involved, because we're the only ones who are. And he believes them and not me. And I don't know... I don't know what to do with that. I guess, ultimately, it doesn't matter what he thinks, it's just... it's the day Shaw called everyone I know and told them stuff about me that isn't true all over again with someone else, except proving that people do believe this crap and it does do me reputational harm." He pauses, lifts his head, pulls back just enough to look at Will's face. "I'm doing it again," he realizes, blinking.