It's obvious when Will catches on that there's something bigger happening. He winces and frowns at the countertop. After some searching through his mind, his worried eyes look up at Malcolm.
"I can be present. I'll...let people know I won't be in today. Where are we going?"
He won't apologize for missing something, but only because he has to be sure what it is first.
“I want it to be a surprise,” Malcolm tells him. “Is that okay?” Because he’ll tell him if he’s not in a place where surprises aren’t just anxiety-inducing.
It’s just their cabin, but Malcolm has been slipping over there, stocking the fridge with things he knows Will likes and also things he can eat, so Will doesn’t stress about him not eating. Dog food, bird food… the snakes and toad are still fine on the Barge for now. He bought some fire wood for the fireplace. He had the boat fuelled up. He didn’t fill the dressers and closets, because he wants to take Will shopping at some point, but there are pyjamas and underwear and socks and a few changes of comfortable, casual clothes: flannel shirts and khakis, jeans, t-shirts, leisurewear, for each of them, so they don’t need to pack to go there. The bathrooms are stocked with new toothbrushes, mouthwash, dental floss, plush towels hanging on the towel warmer, toilet paper, kleenex, bandaids. The kitchen has dishes, pots and pans, baking sheets, a fruit bowl filled with fresh apples, crisp tea towels, a kettle, a french press, freshly ground coffee, high end loose leaf tea. A plate of pastries from the bakery Will likes, because Malcolm knows he can whisk Will to ten minutes after he set them out there. He’s been working on finishing touches this week and creature comforts. Will needs to be able to disconnect from everyone and just exist for a bit, surrounded by no demanding emotions or needs. Just unconditional love from his dogs and his husband. As long as Malcolm can lead that horse to water, he thinks he’ll realize how thirsty he is and drink.
"It's okay," Will confirms, after thinking about it for a moment. This sort of questioning does not give the impression of a big high-energy sort of trip. "I'll get ready. After this." He nods towards the ready coffee, because- well, that smells like heaven.
He sends off his communicator messages while he sips, saying he needs the day off and won't be there. Having that done is satisfying in a way he wouldn't have indulged before the Barge. Still, he feels... "Did I miss something? I'm sorry if I've been gone when you need me. I didn't mean to be harder to reach." He doesn't ask if Malcolm's all right. None of them are, right now, but Malcolm's had an especially rough time.
Of course coffee first. He looks almost serene picking up his own cup, having a sip… until the question.
Malcolm clearly wasn’t expecting that. He blinks confusion a couple of times, then answers “You’re always there when I need you. No. Oh! No. It’s nothing like that.” He considers it, then shakes his head. “No. It’s something else.”
That seems to do it. Will's shoulders relax and he gives Malcolm a tired smile. "All right. Good. I won't ask for any more details, then. You just point me towards what I need to be presentable for this trip and I'll follow you."
He sips his coffee more. But whenever Malcolm gets up, he will as well. While he's obviously tired, he's clearly amenable to whatever Malcolm wants to do. There's been a little crease in his forehead from the tension of the past week- that's already starting to smooth out a little. This, here, is not something he's messing up. At least he's doing okay in the most important area of his life.
Malcolm is careful to sip at his coffee cup until Will's is empty, then he gets up and pulls one of Will's softest flannel shirts out of a drawer and a pair of comfortable pants from another. He grabs a sweater and jeans for himself. Once they're dressed he gives Will a prolonged, wordless hug and a gentle kiss, then he grabs Sunshine's cage and ushers Will and the dogs into the ship.
They don't need anything else.
He disappears into the cockpit for a moment, then reappears.
He gestures to the door when they arrive, for Will to open it. It opens right into their spacious cabin's living room. The pastries on the kitchen island are still warm.
When Will opens the door, he just stares as the dogs run in. And then he breaks out into a laugh.
"Is this your way of telling me I need to take a break?" Expertly done, if so. He likely would've argued otherwise. As it is, he's sniffing the air and stepping out into their little private oasis.
Malcolm steps out behind him, Sunshine’s cage in hand, closing the door behind himself to lean back on it, watching Will.
“It’s… not really about a break, per se. It’s about… taking care of yourself at all. You haven’t been doing any art, you haven’t been using your helmet… as far as I can tell, you haven’t been coming here. The whole Barge is tense. On edge. You’ve been absorbing it without opening any of the valves that release it. I’m not going to analyze you and attempt to tell you why, but… I am going to apologize, because it took me embarrassingly long to notice.”
Several days. Days.
“Anyway, something about this house… the forest… the river… it lets you release other people’s garbage. And we can stay here for a week and get you back there in time to work on the last couple shed walls this afternoon, if you want.”
Re: About a week after losing Katie Slape
"I can be present. I'll...let people know I won't be in today. Where are we going?"
He won't apologize for missing something, but only because he has to be sure what it is first.
Re: About a week after losing Katie Slape
“I want it to be a surprise,” Malcolm tells him. “Is that okay?” Because he’ll tell him if he’s not in a place where surprises aren’t just anxiety-inducing.
It’s just their cabin, but Malcolm has been slipping over there, stocking the fridge with things he knows Will likes and also things he can eat, so Will doesn’t stress about him not eating. Dog food, bird food… the snakes and toad are still fine on the Barge for now. He bought some fire wood for the fireplace. He had the boat fuelled up. He didn’t fill the dressers and closets, because he wants to take Will shopping at some point, but there are pyjamas and underwear and socks and a few changes of comfortable, casual clothes: flannel shirts and khakis, jeans, t-shirts, leisurewear, for each of them, so they don’t need to pack to go there. The bathrooms are stocked with new toothbrushes, mouthwash, dental floss, plush towels hanging on the towel warmer, toilet paper, kleenex, bandaids. The kitchen has dishes, pots and pans, baking sheets, a fruit bowl filled with fresh apples, crisp tea towels, a kettle, a french press, freshly ground coffee, high end loose leaf tea. A plate of pastries from the bakery Will likes, because Malcolm knows he can whisk Will to ten minutes after he set them out there. He’s been working on finishing touches this week and creature comforts. Will needs to be able to disconnect from everyone and just exist for a bit, surrounded by no demanding emotions or needs. Just unconditional love from his dogs and his husband. As long as Malcolm can lead that horse to water, he thinks he’ll realize how thirsty he is and drink.
Re: About a week after losing Katie Slape
He sends off his communicator messages while he sips, saying he needs the day off and won't be there. Having that done is satisfying in a way he wouldn't have indulged before the Barge. Still, he feels... "Did I miss something? I'm sorry if I've been gone when you need me. I didn't mean to be harder to reach." He doesn't ask if Malcolm's all right. None of them are, right now, but Malcolm's had an especially rough time.
Re: About a week after losing Katie Slape
Malcolm clearly wasn’t expecting that. He blinks confusion a couple of times, then answers “You’re always there when I need you. No. Oh! No. It’s nothing like that.” He considers it, then shakes his head. “No. It’s something else.”
Re: About a week after losing Katie Slape
He sips his coffee more. But whenever Malcolm gets up, he will as well. While he's obviously tired, he's clearly amenable to whatever Malcolm wants to do. There's been a little crease in his forehead from the tension of the past week- that's already starting to smooth out a little. This, here, is not something he's messing up. At least he's doing okay in the most important area of his life.
Re: About a week after losing Katie Slape
They don't need anything else.
He disappears into the cockpit for a moment, then reappears.
He gestures to the door when they arrive, for Will to open it. It opens right into their spacious cabin's living room. The pastries on the kitchen island are still warm.
Re: About a week after losing Katie Slape
"Is this your way of telling me I need to take a break?" Expertly done, if so. He likely would've argued otherwise. As it is, he's sniffing the air and stepping out into their little private oasis.
Re: About a week after losing Katie Slape
“It’s… not really about a break, per se. It’s about… taking care of yourself at all. You haven’t been doing any art, you haven’t been using your helmet… as far as I can tell, you haven’t been coming here. The whole Barge is tense. On edge. You’ve been absorbing it without opening any of the valves that release it. I’m not going to analyze you and attempt to tell you why, but… I am going to apologize, because it took me embarrassingly long to notice.”
Several days. Days.
“Anyway, something about this house… the forest… the river… it lets you release other people’s garbage. And we can stay here for a week and get you back there in time to work on the last couple shed walls this afternoon, if you want.”