empathicfault | IC Inbox

Malcolm's eyes flutter closed for a moment when Will kisses his forehead. Everything feels so good and right here. Why does it feel like it's more and more under attack?

He opens his eyes and looks up at Will's face. He reaches up and touches his jaw for a moment before letting his hand drop to Will's shoulder.

"I've been told that it's irresponsible to... get upset about things that are bothering me like that. Two people have told me I always play the victim and it's tiring. And that it's extra irresponsible to come to you about these things, because you're an inmate and I can hurt your graduation by..." He trails off and frowns thoughtfully. "I'm not completely clear by what, but... I'm supposed to solve your problems; I'm not supposed to ask you to solve mine."

He pauses uncertainly.

"Can you tell me something completely honestly? I... I'm not practiced at... at interpersonal relationships. Especially not... especially not love. I've never... this is the first relationship I've been in that's ever been... real. But. Does that mean... am I using you? Is it selfish of me to... to want to be warm like this? Is it hurting you?"

Will looks at Malcolm for a moment and then shakes his head. And then he pulls Malcolm closer, practically giving him a bear hug. "You are not hurting me. You are definitely not using me. I still worry I'm using you, although less so now. You aren't as experienced, like you say, and I find a lot of comfort in you. So much comfort."

He leans his head against Malcolm's and speaks quietly into his ear. "You have emotional dysregulation and probably arrested development. It means that when something irks or upsets you, you have a hard time backing off. You want the feelings resolved, which is...unfortunately not how the world works. Definitely not how it works here. But just because someone might have a point, it doesn't mean they're right, and just because someone presents rules, it doesn't mean you have to follow them, or you're bad."

He almost heads off on a tangent, something that wouldn't be helpful to either of them, but catches himself before he starts complaining about how subjective that whole thing is anyway. He lets out a sigh as he regathers his thoughts. "We are going to hurt each other sometimes. That's how relationships are. You let each other in close enough that any errant carelessness or mistake can cause a harm. But if we didn't make mistakes we would never grow. We'd never know how to adapt or evolve into something better than we are. ...for example..."

He finally pulls back a little and looks at him. "I intentionally tried to blur the line between our professional and personal relationships at the beginning of our time together. I did that because it made me more comfortable accepting help, and also left the door open when I became more interested in you....I also knew at the time that if anyone took heat for it, it'd be you- and that decision is biting me in the ass now, because other wardens took that and ran with it. I'm sorry about that."

The tension in Malcolm does ease as Will holds him and, particularly, as Will speaks. Will sees him. Will understands. And - most importantly - the truth Will is telling him is what he thought the truth was. They’re a comfort to each other. Relationships make you vulnerable, but it’s worth it because you help each other grow. Each other. Not one way in either direction.

Right up to the last part, where he finds himself blinking surprise. He’s sure it’s not Will’s fault.

He tries to process that.

“But… we were friends. That… was true… wasn’t it?”

"We were. We are. Very good friends, right away." Will smiles at him, but it's just a little sad. "But when we talked, the first couple of times, I was going to you for therapy sessions. We ended up diving deep, but it was...more mutual, than that relationship's supposed to be. And that worked for me, because I-" He laughs somewhat self-deprecatingly at himself and shakes his head. "I hate therapy. Always have, if I'm honest. But I can take it like that."

He takes Malcolm's hand in his own and squeezes it. "I've been through that situation before, not manufactured by me then, but-" He lets out a small sigh. "Since I started it that way, since I didn't say 'stop, I think I want to be friends instead' and clearly delineate...that's the concern some people have about it. I knew better, but I was..." He bites his lip for a moment, looks mildly embarrassed even while he smiles fondly. "...pining. Distracted."

“Oh.” And he’s a little distracted, because Will is squeezing his hand and… wait. He looks at Will’s face again. “Pining for me?”

He would have sooooooo given Will the time of day before he came to Malcolm’s cabin that night. But maybe it’s right that it started with them at a fevered boil.

“I… was distracted too.” By trying to do what he always does. Get the attention of any smart and capable woman that will talk to him more than once because that’s the kind of person you’re supposed to go out with to make your mother happy. He smiles almost shyly. “I wish I’d noticed.” Though would he have believed it or thought he was misreading it? “And… knew what that looked like so I’d have recognized it.” Because let’s be real.

He looks up at Will’s face again, just studying it for a moment, then he leans in to give him a gentle but lingering kiss.

“So… it’s okay that I’m scared… that I’m scared of the idea of losing you?”

"Yes, for you," is the laughing response to Malcolm's surprised outburst. You dork is unsaid but implied in the tone. Malcolm had more than just him pining, too. That became obvious later.

The kiss is extremely welcome, and Will squeezes Malcolm's hand again as they do so. As they part, he says, "I don't know who you're asking, me or the general population, but- of course it's okay. I'm terrified of losing you. To anything. You having feelings isn't a problem." He reaches up and runs his fingers through Malcolm's hair, pushing it back. "The way you express them sometimes could probably use some work, but I'm the same way. And mine tends to be more violent, hence the inmate status."

Malcolm smiles, looking down at their intertwined hands, then looks up at him.

“You’re the one whose opinions matter,” Malcolm says. “But I’m pretty sure the expressions of my emotions some of them consider a problem include ‘kissing you’ and… anything more intimate than kissing…” He falls silent for a second, pressing his lips together for a moment, a faint crease in his brow. “I… have been having trouble making it understood what my problem with what Shaw did to ‘handle’ me after Avalon and Jesus’ issue with me actually is. “It’s not about whether they like me or not or… or whether Jesus wants to do counselling with me. It’s about wider reputational damage. How widely does an earnest accusation of sexual misconduct or mental instability from someone that people take seriously as a Good Warden have to spread before Kiryu has to determine that - whether it’s true or not - the optics of me working in counselling just… aren’t tenable? At what point does it have to be considered that the image of counselling as a department people can turn to in confidence and be vulnerable in will suffer if it’s the place that employs the crazy man who sleeps with his patients. That’s how he put it. ‘I couldn’t do therapy with someone who sleeps with his patients’. Patients. Plural. Like I do it all the time.” A beat. “I mean. If you count, then I do do it all the time, but his wording makes it sound like I do it with lots of them. Like… ‘send me vulnerable people in pain so I can get them on my couch’ sort of vibes.”

Edited 2023-11-30 00:19 (UTC)

Will makes an annoyed face when Malcolm brings up what Jesus said to Malcolm. That is definitely leaning towards labelling Malcolm with a repeated behavior that is very much not how he operates. And that's Will's fault, too, partially. So he's going to have to try and fix what he can.

"Yeah, that's...really stretching the events way out of proportion." He rubs his chin thoughtfully for a moment. "Even so, I think you're too worried about what a 'reputation' means here on the Barge. Kiryu's an old gangster, you know. Shaw was black ops. Even if people believed it- and I don't think they do- you're not going to get pushed out of your position. The only thing I think that could do it would be...demotion, maybe."

“It’ll be even worse if I get prospective clients looking for the guy who sleeps with his patients,” Malcolm says with a frown. “He said it in public. And I don’t know who he chats about it with.”

He sighs.

“Everyone says it doesn’t matter. Maybe I’m conveying my meaning just fine and it just doesn’t matter,” he concedes.

He looks at Will uncertainly. “You’d tell me if you thought I was… being inappropriate, right? Or if I hurt you?”

Will snorts in amusement. The look in his eyes is fond. "I would've stabbed you by now, you know. I'm not going to let someone do that to me again." ...not unless he was in control of it, anyway.

He shakes his head slightly, then leans forward again, pulling close to speak into Malcolm's ear. It has the convenient side effect of letting him press half his face into Malcolm's hair, which he does shamelessly.

"No one here believes anything unless they see it for themselves. But the fact that you're so concerned about the appearance of guilt makes you seem...more guilty. And we did start out, briefly, as doctor and patient. So perhaps just admitting to that one thing and then moving on would settle people. But- I don't know. I know it's difficult to not worry about it, but I don't think it's going to cause any extra problems."

Malcolm clutches his stomach in relief at first, but Will suggests conceding what doesn’t feel like the truth.

His hand wanders to grasp Will’s shirt instead.

“But… that’s saying it is inappropriate…” he murmurs back, troubled.

Will pulls back again and brushes his thumb over Malcolm's cheek. "What is 'inappropriate' and why does it matter? Twenty years ago, the two of us being together at all would be considered inappropriate. Because we're both men. Just because there's more than one person upset about it doesn't mean it's right."

He looks at Malcolm, his own expression serious but...gentle. They both need gentle right now. "But it is a power imbalance that we started from, even if it was just briefly. I suppose there's still a power imbalance, since I'm an inmate. It's something to recognize and be mindful of. But we can acknowledge it and talk about it- and we have- and decide for ourselves how we want to handle it. Others can frown, but I'm more than done with people acting like I can't make my own decisions."

His jaw sets, and the softness is gone in an instant. He can't hold it while wading into this territory. "Especially since they're always the sort to see fake problems and ignore the real ones. The ones who don't help when I actually ask for it. It's Sheehan and Jesus, right?"

It makes sense what he's saying. It makes sense and it feels like the truth again. Tension in his face and frame eases and his gaze wanders down to Will's shoulder as he internalizes it and then snap back to his face when he very accurately guesses the sources of this particular discomfort.

"Yes," he admits easily, because even if he could lie to Will, he has no desire to and even less to protect Sheehan and Jesus from anything. "They didn't help you when you asked them for help?"

"No, it's not that," he says. And he pauses to start guiding them over to the couch. They can sit there together and have one of their long talks, now that they're both feeling a little more settled. "It's...they both remind me of Alana, you know? So helpful, so moral. But they can't bend, not even a little. Lets people like Hannibal take advantage of them, while they're chasing after smaller infractions."

He hugs Malcolm close before pulling him down the couch. "Did I tell you that she dated him? While I was incarcerated. Oh- you had that one memory of them both trying to convince me to ask for help. It was then." His fingers squeeze on Malcolm's shoulder for a moment, the occasional desperate grasp he gets when thinking of something particularly unpleasant. "Sometimes it hurts more when the failure comes from a well-intentioned source."

Malcolm curls up close to him, still mostly facing him, his hands on Will’s leg, one hand absently squeezing the other.

He frowns at the information about Alana, but Will squeezes his shoulder in that electrifying way that grounds him like a lightning rod.

“It does. That’s it. They’re seen as Moral and Good, so when they pass judgement…” He trails off and then lifts his head to look at Will, eyes slightly unfocused in thought coming to sharp focus on Will’s face. “We’re shades of grey people,” he realizes. “That’s why what they say can be… technically correct in a way, but doesn’t feel like the truth. They don’t see a gradient like we do, so everything has to be just black or just white.” He pauses again. “Well, now I feel kind of sad for them and the tiny little arbitrary boxes they live in,” he muses.

Will smiles a little, but there's a lot of sadness in it. "I wouldn't even say they're always black and white about everything. But they do have things they won't re-evaluate, ever. I was that way, too, honestly...Hannibal took that from me, the certainty, and I had to change everything to survive. Alana...well, she snapped just as hard as her spine did. No re-evaluation, just bitterness at being tricked."

After a thoughtful pause, he adds, "But maybe Hannibal won't be eating her, now that I've taken him down with me. So she doesn't have to pay the ultimate price for it." He hefts a sigh. "I'm still mad at her, but I don't want to be. I think...that's probably how things would work out with Sheehan and Jesus, if I let them get too close. So I don't intend to." Even if he does like the both of them, generally, and they're easy to be friendly with.

“That’s… why I said something on that lady’s post. Because I was still mad at him and I couldn’t stop myself… and then it sounded like she was too… but she wasn’t. I know it’s bad. That I did that. I don’t want to be mad anymore either, but he keeps saying it; he keeps saying that I’m hurting you to… to satisfy myself and I hate it.” He takes a breath. “I’m sorry if it embarrassed you,” he says sincerely. “I have to start doing breathing exercises again or something,” he mumbles, looking down at Will’s knee. “I private messaged him thinking I would… apologize and try to explain, but… it didn’t go any better than the public conversation. Maybe I just… really shouldn’t talk to him. Maybe not every problem has to be solved.” He looks up at Will again. “Do you have any techniques for curbing impulsivity?”

"You...probably shouldn't use my methods. I shouldn't use my methods," he says with a small chuckle. "I tend to retreat and go away for awhile. Fishing. But I think breathing exercises would help. It's just...a matter of stopping yourself for a moment to think- is this mostly emotional? Do I really need to have this conversation right now? ...because yeah, when it became clear that the new person wasn't mad at him, that things were more complicated, that's when you should've backed off."

Will's looking at Malcolm, his gentleness back as they lean against the couch and face each other. He squeezes Malcolm's hand, then holds it between both of his. "And if you're feeling really strongly about something, that might be a good sign that you need to have someone on the outside of things check it. Me, or Neal. Anyone else you might trust. We could give you a rundown of what we see. But I know it's hard to pull away in the middle of a conversation. So I don't know how much of a solution that is."

“I shouldn’t have said anything to start with. I was being petty,” he admits easily, to Will. Will, who he knows won’t reject him for it. “It was stupid. It made him look good and me look bad.”

But Will’s hands are warm and his face is beautiful and kind and Malcolm’s eyes find it again. “Tell me about Becoming. You mentioned your Becoming before and suggested I could be having one. I think I get the concept contextually, but… how does it work?”

Will tilts his head in reluctant acknowledgement, that Malcolm shouldn't have said anything, and that it was ultimately not helpful. But he smirks a little and adds, "I like you being petty, sometimes, though. Just...hold onto it for better opportunities in the future, if you can."

Even when the subjects they talk about are awful, or frustrating, or depressing, doing it here like this feels cozy and fantastic. Curled up and taking in the entirety of the other, they can release any tension of the day, hold each other up and feel rested, for once.

Will is contemplating that when Malcolm asks about his Becoming. He almost thinks he hears wrong, but Malcolm elaborates, and- Will's expression shifts from confusion to amazed fondness. Who else would ask about something so important to Will?

He opens his mouth and his tongue runs over his teeth before he speaks, a method of delay he's long had while he thinks. "...it's difficult. Words don't really do it justice. It starts with...learning to adapt, to things you would otherwise avoid. Accusations, threats, strange situations. You survive because you have to. But eventually, you realize that's not enough. You cannot just change your methods, you have to change yourself, if you want to live. You learn to navigate the halls you were unwelcome, and even if the steps are stumbling. Even if you feel like a baby deer in world of concrete. You're too fast for anyone to catch."

He sits up a bit as he continues, his cadence and tone confident. "All of that comes before you start looking to change yourself. You desire mastery, you desire not just a life, but a vibrant life. A thriving life. And in the case of my world- and me- that required...blood. And breath. It required an inherent internal change. Initiated by me, planned by me, and executed by me. To Become something greater than I had been. To fulfill the potential that had been lying dormant in me."

He realizes that at some point he had started looking down at their joined hands. He raises his eyes now, to see if that made any sort of sense to Malcolm.

Malcolm's expression shifts from interested to fascinated by the time Will is done. Will did that. He accomplished it. That's probably why the way he carries himself is so... commanding. Not of obedience or anything like that, but he brings energy into a room, even when he's exhausted.

"If... I were to... Become... how do you think I should start? Our work in the Enclosure?" Wasn't that the context Will had mentioned Becoming in before? There's barely a pause before he adds "Did it change how much you needed to... to find acceptance or to... " He frowns faintly at himself. "I don't think I'm going to stop rubbing people the wrong way sometimes. I just... I tried to explain to Shaw... I've done the work. I've done all the work for decades: talk therapy, behavioural therapy, drugs, electroshock, yoga, mantras, meditation, affirmations... and it was so important to me to belong. To figure out how to be a version of me that can belong. And it's always failed spectacularly. But. I try. I try every day. I wanted her to understand that this is probably the peak version of Malcolm Bright, because she was looking for some sort of... like. I would just. I would do the right Try and be less annoying. She thought that it was... lazy of me, essentially, to suggest I might not be able to achieve it. That it was a refusal to try. But what if I just didn't... need that anymore? Their acceptance. Is there a way that I can Become without losing my care for helping people or my love for my friends but not need... the rest of it anymore? Admiration? Acceptance? Can I just... be me but... with sharper lines, you know? Like you have." Will is More Real than other people. He's in 4K. The Becoming must be the reason.

Will listens quietly, letting Malcolm get everything out that he needs to. His eyes narrow a bit as Malcolm describes the thing that Shaw had said. Being described as having 'sharper lines,' Will smiles slightly, looking content.

"Your Becoming would be unique. Our potentials are not to be the same thing, after all. You have your own hues that would come out in your ultimate radiance. But that's for later. Because you are only just out of the adaptation for survival's sake stage. You have begun to change. And in that change, you are finding strife. That's normal, Malcolm. It's good. You have to come up against boundaries before you can test where the edges of yourself are. Like with the Enclosure."

He leans forward, his own forehead resting against Malcolm's, so he can look him closely in the eyes. So Malcolm can see his intent. "The change will be difficult. It will require sacrifice, but I'm not going to do to you the same thing Hannibal did to me. Every part of this will be your choice. Now, it just so happens this place is extremely accepting and helpful to those seeking to undergo change. We will find you, define you, and then we will find the potential of who you could be. And because I love you, I will help guide you to that precipice, and you can decide if you want to jump."

He only realizes after he says it that he personally did literally have to jump (or fall, he supposes) to truly Become who he is. He wonders if Malcolm's Becoming would be so dramatic, but- well, they are both who they are. "After that, the ideas that anyone can mold your shape or ruin your desires will seem laughable."

Malcolm is just as intent as he listens, rapt.

“Is that why it doesn’t hurt you, how they talk about us?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper as he elaborates, “Like I’m romping across a vulnerable person for my own shallow gratification and not experiencing the deepest spiritual connection I’ve ever had with anyone? Because you understand what you want and you know they can’t touch it? All their chatter just gets carried off on the wind? Because it… I feel it inside me. Like they’re desecrating something sacred and they think they’re better than me because I believe in it and they’re above it. That’s why I get so worked up. Because they have such strong opinions about it and they can’t even see it. They don’t even want to see it, they just want me to agree. But I can’t agree. It’s holy to me.”

Will smiles a little, and it only grows as Malcolm continues. "It is. And that's the important thing." He brings up Malcolm's hand, and kisses it softly in an act of supplication. "You will come to understand, in your mind and your heart, that there are some things that they can't see. Some things that they won't see. And they won't be able to touch that inner part of you anymore. You will be free."

“That’s what I want!” Malcolm exclaims earnestly. “It’s possible to Become that? Really?”

IC Inbox

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)