empathicfault | IC Inbox

[ That surprises a laugh out of Will. Malcolm really knows how to kick him out of a melancholic rumination, sometimes. ]

Well...it's probably better for the sexy choices to happen in more sexy situations, anyway.

That's a good point. Okay. [He drags himself up from leaning against Will, then offers his hand.] Let's go see my mom's house, then, so we can come back here afterwards and decompress.

[ Will takes the hand with a small smile and accepts Malcolm's help up. ]

Good plan. Is your mother still living there, though?

Edited 2023-11-06 00:35 (UTC)

Yeah. It's her family's legacy home. She refuses to give it up for him and his crimes.

[He goes to the computer and starts entering information.]

[ Will stands back a little from the computer, letting Malcolm work on the details. It's probably too early to judge, but considering what he knows of her so far... ]

And I'm guessing she didn't move while you grew up, either.

Oh. No. I grew up there.

[And now they’re on a residential street in New York. One of the opulent rows of old money brownstones that populate the Upper East Side. Malcolm gestures to the stately front door made of black lacquered heavy oak.]

Shall we?

[ Of course Malcolm did. Will briefly pinches the bridge of his nose, but he doesn't comment any further on it. He'd always thought his world's psychiatry was in a dire state, but he does wonder about Malcolm's...

Regardless, they're here, and Will recovers enough to looks around at the fancy neighborhood. ]

I think I prefer New York with no real people in it. [ He smiles slightly and nods. ] All right. Lead on.

It does have a sort of post-apocalyptic charm. [A joke. He walks up the steps and pushes open the door.] I’ve programmed the house without any people in it, but in the real world, my mother would probably be home and at least a couple of her staff definitely would. [The entrance hall is opulent, the design classic. Timeless. Malcolm leads him down a hall and through double doors to the formal sitting room, then to a door in the corner that leads to a plain wooden staircase, lacking the adornments of the part of the house meant to be lived in and seen. Down the stairs to an only partly finished basement with cement floors.] That was my father’s office in there. I was with him that night. He was teaching me about the nerves of the hand. Then he told me it was time to head up to bed. I was walking through here… [He gestures to the hallway where they’re standing, then points to the end of the hall. A room without an actual door in the doorway.] I heard something from in there. I went over to see what it was. [As they approach the room, the travel trunk is quite plainly sitting right there on the floor. Pandora’s Box.] She was still alive. The girl in the box. I found out later that she saw me when I saw her. I opened it and saw her in there and I screamed. My father grabbed me from behind and put a chloroform soaked rag over my mouth and nose until I passed out. [He turns and looks at Will.] We were supposed to be in the Hamptons, but a road closure brought us back home soon after we left and he had to hide her quickly. Hastily. Hence the trunk. [He gestures to a nearby wall, then walks over and opens a hidden panel.] One of his kill rooms was right here. But he was waiting for us all to go to sleep so he could move her.

[ Will follows Malcolm through the opulent house, then down the far less fancy basement. An old house like this having an unfinished basement was a bit of a surprise, but of course serial murderers love having spaces to hide away like that. Martin got lucky.

He follows Malcolm through the description of the trunk and then the chloroform and the hidden panel- yep, he knew it. He takes in all the spaces but keeps his eyes on Malcolm's face for the most part. ]

But he didn't kill her...you said you found her later. Alive. [ Right? ]

[Malcolm nods.]

The chloroform was starting to lose efficacy. Imagine how many times one would have to chloroform a ten year old for it to lose efficacy. So he and his… accomplice - John Watkins - decided to take me and the girl… [He looks inside the secret room.] She must have been here all that time. I… don’t know how much time. I only have fragments of memory. They decided to take us on a camping trip and finish us both off. The girl, it turned out, worked for Nicholas Endicott, the ultrawealthy powerbroker my sister later killed. She convinced my father to let her go in exchange for dirt on Endicott that he could use as leverage if he was caught. And then… I’ve had to extrapolate a little bit. I think John wanted to finish me off. He grabbed my arm and I stabbed him with a knife my father bought me. And I ran. My father says he just couldn’t bring himself to kill me, but I think that was the moment he felt that way. He saw a sign that I could be like him.

[ Will nods through the explanation. Okay, so the camping trip happened after...and yeah, some of this is going to be lost to the chloroform. God, doing that to a kid...

The last bit has him grimacing, because he can understand how it follows now. ]

His narcissism was satisfied, seeing you display something he interpreted as sadism. You were just trying to live.

It was like any kind of desperate act could be the gateway violence into me loving it like he does. Into craving it like he does. The last time I saw him before I came here, he tried to kill me and I stabbed him in self defence. And, bleeding on the ground in the middle of a... a forest in Vermont, he grinned up at me and said 'I was right; we are the same'. Like what I did was in any way like what he did. [Malcolm shrugs.] I... always just wanted to live. [He looks over at Will.] I feel the most alive since I've been with you.

[ Will makes a highly unimpressed face when he hears how Martin called them the 'same.' God, at least Hannibal spent some time spinning a metaphor or setting up a ridiculous situation.

That frown turns into a surprised smile at the compliment Malcolm pays him at the end. He bites his lip and looks down at Malcolm's hand, which he quickly reaches out to grab. He quickly brings it up to kiss their joined fingers. This has the side effect of keeping them both very close. ]

I am so...so glad to hear you say that. I always want to make you feel that way. [ He looks towards the kill room. ] And...I don't think your darkness has anything to do with ending lives, either. Not from what I've seen today. What it is...it's not the same as your father's. I don't think it ever was or could be.

[Malcolm looks cautiously delighted by the observation. …Or diagnosis?]

…Really? So… I don’t have to kill anyone? [The fact that that’s a relief should be a message to him, but Will’s notes mean more.] What… does it have to do with? [Because it is there; he can feel it.]

[ Will doesn't mean to laugh, and he really tries not to. But there's such joy in Malcolm's question- one that Will has already answered, but not all these answers get through the first time, he knows. He vows to himself to never take that away. And he leans over to kiss the top of Malcolm's head in order to- hopefully- convey he means no harm by his little chuckle of an outburst. ]

No, never. And I'd never want you to, if you didn't want it. And I don't think you do.

What you do want...in my estimation- [ Important to admit that, because he's very capable of being wrong. ] -is to have control. You want control of a situation, and maybe control of particular people. It's what you were never afforded here. It's why your father doesn't deserve death, but he also certainly doesn't deserve freedom. It's why you love cases, especially where you talk down a killer or catch them in their own traps. Does that...resonate with you, at all?

[He smiles.] That’s part of it. Beating them at their own game. Giving them a little of their own medicine, when they’re truly malevolent. Letting them feel the fear they don’t think twice about inflicting on others. Turning the tables on them just when they think they’re winning. [He looks up into Will’s face.] But I want to save their victims, too. The innocent people who were just in the wrong place at the wrong time… but also the Abigails of the world. Not just the people they kill, but the people they break. I remember every person that saved me. Gil. Gabrielle. The Admiral. You and Neal. I want to give people a chance they wouldn’t have had.

[ He's still got his fingers entwined with Malcolm's and he squeezes that hand. ]

I want that, too. That's...not the dark part, but. I want that too. Championing the vulnerable, saving the people who might be broken. We are, but they don't have to be. We can understand and outmaneuver and outpace their villains. I'm not as good at saving people as I'd like to be, but you-

[ His voice is warm and fond and full of admiration. He picked up punishing the wicked far more than what he'd originally wanted- preventing the tragedy in the first place. It hasn't escaped his notice that Malcolm has had more successes. ]

I can learn from you.

[Malcolm’s eyes widen a little, and then his smile does too. Will wants to learn saving people from him. Part of him wants to shout it at the people telling him he’s bad for Will. The rest of him is too busy swooning. He glances around the family murder basement.]

Can we go back to your cabin? The one in Wolf Trap, not the Barge one.

[ Will grins back at him. ]

Sure. I'd like that.

[ He puts his arm around Malcolm as they walk out of the space and back up to the street. It doesn't take much to bring up Will's house again- it's been preprogrammed into the Enclosure for ages at this point. It's kind of amazing how different it feels to his cabin, with the entirety of his land to look out on. ]

[Malcolm looks out the window for a moment before stepping over to Will and wrapping his arms around him, gluing himself to his side.]

I can see why you like it here. Might have to do something with the furniture. [He grins up at him; he’s teasing.] I’m kind of mad that they… intruded on this. Broke your peace.

[ Will himself looks intensely content with Malcolm here by his side. He often seems hooked up to a livewire, a mass of twitches and overstimulation. So times like these, when he's feeling good? He takes advantage. It doesn't hurt, having his arm around Malcolm while Malcolm's holding onto to him just as much. ]

I know it's sad I have to ask- [ He says it with amusement, at least. ] -but which 'them' are you referring to? The FBI...Hannibal and Randall Tier...the Barge...?

Everyone except the Barge. The Barge got here late. [He tilts his head up to look at Will’s face.] Were you happy? Here, before they came?

[ Will's lips curl up into a smile. The Barge did get here late. By the time they showed up, he'd lost this place. It was a kindness to get it back, even if the form wasn't initially entirely to his liking.

The question takes a long moment of thought to answer. ]

...I was managing. I didn't, didn't know who I was, then. Not even then. This place was the quietest I could find. No- ...there was some part of me that was drawn here, but I didn't know then if that was me or something else I picked up somewhere along the line. I thought, maybe...if I had it long enough? I could find a baseline, for myself.

I think it did help me start figuring out...what could be happy for me. Does that make sense? [ He's not sure it does. ]

Yes. It does. [Maybe it wouldn't to everyone, but it makes sense to someone else who has struggled to define who he is and what he wants between neurodivergence and trauma.] I thought I would find it in DC, working for the FBI. I'd be away from everything that made me in his image and just... be me. And then they found out about him and fired me for being too much like him... and I realized that I would never figure out who I was without taking him into consideration. But I never have quite figured out how. [He looks up at Will again, nuzzles his nose against his jaw.] I can't wait until we have our own ship. Our own space. Our own choices. That feels the most like... like defining ourselves instead of being battered by everyone else doing it.

[ Will closes his eyes as Malcolm nuzzles closer, baring his neck briefly before turning his head to catch Malcolm in a kiss. He wants those things, too. It's a future in the light, and he can feel it crystallize in front of him. It feels like sunshine on his face.

He smiles against Malcolm's lips. He'd been planning to talk about how he sought out the FBI as well, but his focus is elsewhere now. The future, not the past. ]

I had thought we'd recreate your home for the interior, but- perhaps we should design the space together. Your cabin, this place- they're intermediaries, for both of us. Meant to help us reach out and see who we are. I feel like...we can get closer.

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