empathicfault | IC Inbox

[ Will peers, and then nods. ]

It looks like it's going to turn that ugly green color the bad ones do, before turning the rest of the bruise palette. Doesn't look like your nose is broken, though...miraculously. Arthur can sure throw a punch.

[ He turns the sink on, and makes sure it reaches a comfortable temperature before gently pulling Malcolm's hand under the water. He rubs some soap over the fingernails before washing them off. ]

Perhaps if it happens again...someone telling you to back off- you keep your distance and let them approach you the next time? That way they'll know that you'll give them the space they need.

You've made enough friends here that you should know- it's not a fluke. You really and truly do connect strongly with some of the people here. You don't have to hold out for others, in hopes they'll tolerate you later. You're worth more than that, sweetheart.

[He considers that while Will carefully scrubs at the crusted blood on his hand, then slowly nods acceptance.]

And I don’t really… need more than I have now. I think it’s like… you know when someone has lived through deprivation and then, for the rest of their lives they hoard food and overeat, even though, by logical metrics, they have plenty and access to it whenever they want. They just have… a particular anxiety around that… trauma. And someone that doesn’t understand what they’ve survived - not just know, but understand - they can mistake it for selfishness. And… maybe it is, objectively; keeping all that food for themselves. But… it’s not about self-aggrandizement for them. It feels like it’s about survival. The lizard brain doing what the lizard brain does. My lizard brain pushes me to… to collect connection, because I’ve existed in deprivation of it and humans require community of some sort to survive. But there are interconnected layers of trauma in there, competing for resources…

[His voice trails off and he looks at Will, then he looks into the sink, watching blood swirl down the drain.]

He said I don’t see people as people, that I don’t engage with them emotionally and everything I say dehumanizes them and I shouldn’t be a counsellor and I don’t deserve to be a warden. [He huffs a faint laugh.] Possibly the world’s fastest slide from exemplary warden to not being worthy of being a warden at all. [He looks at Will again.] That’s when the switch flipped in me. That’s when I actually did disengage emotionally. It happened like he flipped a switch inside me.

[ Will nods through the explanation Malcolm is giving himself, how Malcolm's lizard brain has taught itself to work, in order to feel like a human being in a society he's been taught to need. It's a start.

He looks up when he feels Malcolm's eyes on him, and continues to watch him for the rest of it. ]

And I kept trying so hard to help people and then was told that I was manipulating them gleefully. I gave my life to hunting down murderers but people still treated me with disdain. It wasn't until I stopped and decided to use them for my own gains, that they suddenly thought I was the nicest guy. Here to help.

[ That's not fair. He shouldn't compare people where he's from to those here. They're not the same- or maybe they are but the ratio of worthwhile people to the others is higher. It just hit so close to home, that feeling. ]

You hit your limit. You are defining the shape of yourself by testing these boundaries. And perhaps that'll even help with what Arthur was complaining about...because you get so invested with most people who'll interact with you. For those less invested, it can start to seem like pressure for them to 'perform up to your expectations.' It's like...blowing a measurement device so out of range that it reads as zero. Less investment will mean they can see the feelings that are there and not feel overwhelmed by them.

[ Getting those fingers as clean as they're going to be, he brings them up to his lips and kisses them gently, before starting to dry them with a towel.]

But that part doesn't really matter, because the switch flipped. You don't have to understand it, you just have to know who you are and what you'll take.

[He smiles, charmed, by the kiss to his fingers.

Who you are and what you’ll take.]

I think… I’ve never actually known. It’s weird, right? I’m thirty-three years old… thirty-four? Do birthdays count here? And all I’ve ever been able to identify is one thing I’m not.

[He looks up to meet Will’s eyes again.]

He didn’t hit me because I insulted him. Well. No, I mean, apparently he finds everything I say somehow insulting. But. He wasn’t listening. He spent twenty minutes telling me how it should be clear to me that he intended to listen to me because he called the meeting and that’s what that means to anyone with a brain… and then he didn’t. Listen. So finally I asked why he came. Was it only because John asked him to? That’s when he let fly. He called me an idiot and he called me selfish and he called me a bad counsellor and a worse warden… or maybe the other way around and he thought that was fine. A reasonable and fair way to make his point. Which was… that I fail at being a human being, I guess. But ask why he was having a meeting he clearly didn’t want to have: that’s crossing a line. I’m a little bit sad because I knew he didn’t like me, but I used to respect him. But… I’m also… relieved. Like you observed. I’m relieved that it’s over and I don’t have to worry about it or invest in it or… care about it. Is… you said I was testing the boundaries of what I can take. That’s how you described the work we did in the Enclosure. Is… did I make progress on Becoming?

Edited 2025-03-17 19:46 (UTC)

[ Will retreats into his mind for a few moments as Malcolm recounts the experience, face blank and eyes focused strongly on nothing in the middle distance. But then he blinks and he's looking into Malcolm's eyes again.

At the question, he breaks into a small but extremely pleased smile. ]

What do you think? It's yours, after all.

[Malcolm considers that.]

Do you think I can learn to tell when it should be over and make it over before it... starts?

[ Will considers his response. The kettle interrupts him and he heads to turn the stove off, and set up the tea. ]

I don't think there are rules that you don't define yourself. I can only guide you on the path, you have to take the steps.

But trust me when I say it's already started. At some point- and maybe more than once- there will be a significant leap you have to make. You will find yourself prepared to make it. You're doing that right now, preparing. Building your faith in yourself. Shedding your shame. That's you.

[ He looks back up towards Malcolm. The smile is no longer on his lips, but still in his eyes. ]

...You're still going to like me when the shame layer comes off like a snake's skin, right?

[He asks it like it's a joke but there's a nervousness behind it. If he gets rid of too much, changes too much, will Will still want what's left?]

[ Will grins brightly. It turns into a smirk as he speaks. ]

I will. I could never dislike a form that you choose, something that makes you happy.

Besides, what do Sin and Star look like after they shed their skin?

The same. [Conceded.] But... their skin isn't accidentally a disguise. [He reaches out for Will, for whatever he can grasp at with his fingertips: the edge of Will's shirt, the pocket of his pants.] Though... you do already see through all disguises.

[ Will sets the teapot down to steep, which happily leaves him open to put his hand up to cup Malcolm's chin as he looks at him. ]

I do. You'll only be revealing more of what I already see.

[ His voice takes on a slightly amused tone. ]

Might wanna look more closely at our snakes, though. They shed when they're getting bigger, right? And I think they're always more vibrant when they're done.

[Malcolm smiles.]

Well, okay they're bigger. And shinier. They didn't mess up that skin with dust and scratches yet. ...Do you think if the shame layer falls off... some of the shallower scars will go with it? Not the ones that made me. Just some of the ones I got along the way since then.

I do think that. I think you'll shed scars you didn't even know you had, ones you're only able to recognize as they fall away from you.

[ He steps forward and gives Malcolm a gentle kiss. After fixing his eyes with Malcolm's (rather bloodshot, but still beautiful) ones, he moves back to the tea. ]

Put that pack back on your eyes, sweetheart. You're turning even more colors now. I'll guide you to the couch after I get the tea in the living room.

[Malcolm smiles in the wake of the kiss, and at the instructions, he brings the ice pack to his eyes again. The cool lessens the throbbing in the bridge of his nose and he breathes out in relief.]

Maybe you can read to me?

[Since it will be kind of hard for him to watch TV like this. Or read a book himself.]

Once we get settled over there.

I'd love to.

[ After about half a minute of moving everything into the living room, he's at Malcolm's side again. After placing a kiss to the back of Malcolm's head, he considers a moment and hefts Malcolm up into a bridal carry, a small smile on his face. ]

I've got you, you just keep that pack on. What should I read? I've just got some entomology studies, at the moment.

[It surprises him, but pleasantly, when Will picks him up and he steadies himself with his near arm looped around Will's neck.]

Oh? Are they about the role of insects in decomposition? [Asked with interest.]

[ Will chuckles. ]

You got me. Found it in the library, and it seems to be from a few years ahead of us. The section I'm reading now is detailing how a certain type of silverfish seems incentivized towards a corpse in the very early stages of decomposition, when there's usually only blowflies. They tend to throw off time-of-death estimates, because they go to town on the clothes. Lazy forensic specialists, beware.

[ He gently sets Malcolm down on the couch. Buster has been following them and jumps up on the same time, near immediately trying to get in Malcolm's lap. Will drapes the blanket over and around Malcolm, and the dog wiggles and runs out from under it with a small yap. ]

That's wild! Does it happen in a particular climate or can it happen anywhere?

[Will sets him down and Buster jumps up only to be indignant in being thwarted by the blanket and Malcolm laughs.]

Was that Buster? [Didn't feel like Winston.] Where did he go?

[ Will finally lets himself laugh, too. Meanwhile Buster does a circle and plops down next to a pillow. He looks for all the world like he's pouting. ]

It was Buster. I like to keep him on his toes sometimes. Otherwise, he'll start thinking he owns the place. He is...currently sulking on the floor, but I'm sure he'll come up again soon.

[ Will grabs the book he'd been reading and sits next to Malcolm, close enough to already be leaning on each other. ]

And I think that particular subspecies appear in high humidity areas- average seventy percent or more, but I'll have to check. The tea tray's on the coffee table, by the way.

[ Even if he's sure Malcolm can already smell it. He'll let Malcolm get his own tea, at least. ]

I love that. [The bug facts.] Can they calculate how much it throws time of death estimates off by?

[He leans forward and carefully finds his mug by feel with his free hand, the other hand still holding the ice pack on his face. He curls against Will's side once he has it in his hand.]

Is it a significant amount?

[ There's a short pause as Will opens the book and looks through a couple pages. ]

Anywhere from 12 hours to five days. Because the clothes are eaten in the earliest stages of decomposition, and silverfish larvae with adult silverfish are indicative of the active decay stage, it can be anywhere from 4 days to 15.

[ He continues, almost smoothly transitioning into reading aloud from that point in the book. He pauses at one point to note that this type of silverfish- Ctenolepisma devriesiana- otherwise acts the same as the subspecies he's familiar with, the common paper silverfish. ]

It just seems to have evolved to 'get the jump' on the other carrion insects. I'd bet that they're attracted to something the blow flies give off, personally.

But they don't feed on the body or the blow flies?

They don't feed on the body all that much, but they do lay eggs on it. They're not expecting people to come by and remove the clothes, after all. They also--

[ He flips back a few pages. ]

They tend to be an indicator to other carrion insects that the buffet's ready, too. So things like dung beetles and moths might arrive earlier as well, which would muddy the data even further. Give the body the look of being in early active decay, even if it's still in the process of bloating.

Wow! That could mess up the investigation, messing with the timing of alibis… unless the victim is wearing a smart watch. Those things are the best thing to happen to murder investigations. They tell you the exact time the victim’s heart stopped beating.

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