empathicfault | PSL: Travels outside the Barge (w/Malcolm)

When Will stills in the doorway, Malcolm stands on his toes to try to look over his shoulder, then cranes his neck to try to see out the window, then looks at his husband with concern.

“Will? What’s wrong?”

Will give him one of a strained smile and steps aside so Malcolm can see. "This is where I changed myself. And where I died. I...didn't mean to bring us here."

He looks slightly lost as he turns back to it. "They weren't able to get all the bloodstains out. Or they gave up on it early."

Malcolm peeks outside, glancing around.

“Does anyone live here now?”

"I don't-" Will cuts himself off and finally steps outside to look at the house their door is embedded in. There's plastic over the large broken window, but some of the tape has gotten loose and one corner billows open. The remains of police tape criss-cross over the front door.

There's no "for sale" sign up, but- "I doubt it. Doesn't look particularly livable, at the moment."

Will's feet are already taking him to the brown bloodstain, most of it washed away. The euphoria of the blood flowing- out of the dragon, onto everything else- it sings in Will's mind like it was just yesterday.

Malcolm follows him. He understands what that stain is made of.

"...What happened?"

Will's mouth opens, and he seems lost in thought for a long moment. Malcolm must be used to it, at this point. "...I don't know whether to give you the clinical explanation or...how I saw it."

Despite this, he pushes forward with some combination of both. "This was a property Hannibal owned. We stopped here, luring the- Francis Dolarhyde. Here. He
was fully subsumed by his Dragon persona by this point. His mind felt...shattered, long before. Hannibal and I waited for the night- the Dragon only strikes under the light of a full moon. When we were about to have our second glass of wine..."

He looks over to the windows. "The Dragon used a sniper rifle, aimed at Hannibal's kidney. It shot straight through and into the wine bottle. He came in, expecting me to go with his plan of killing Hannibal and filming his Becoming. Or maybe not, because he caught me as I pulled the knife from my pocket. Stabbed me here-" He taps the scar on his lower right cheek. "And then picked me up and threw me through that window. -I don't think he'd be able to, now," he adds as he realizes how he's changed in the time since.

Malcolm is always riveted by either type of explanation, but Will’s perspective would win out if he had to choose.

He looks towards the window, then his eyes trail… towards the cliff.

“This happened the night you died,” he whispers as he realizes.

Will nods, the corner of his lip quirking up. "The night I came to the Barge."

He's on a roll now, so he continues. "He advanced on me after I rolled...hell, about ten, fifteen feet? Hannibal somehow got outside silently and jumped up at him like a...very heavy monkey on his back. Gave me time to get up and pull the knife out of my cheek."

He continues through the dance that was the fight, actually making the motions of pulling the knife through the Dragon's guts. "Hannibal tore out his neck in the same motion. This was a man who would kill families in their beds, always two young kids and both parents. He targeted them through their vacation photos. He went after Molly and Walter because I was special." And isn't he, always?

"Not a man I could ever forgive. Not one I would consider for redemption." It's not that he hated the idea of the Barge. But considering everyone on board capable of it seemed preposterous. Trying to keep that sort of positivity on the job had worn on him. "He fell backwards and his blood splayed out like this. He finally got his fearsome wings."

Malcolm walks around the stain now, to examine the pattern on the ground. He also struggled with some of the moralizing on the Barge and how it applied to every inmate but not to every warden. Like only inmates could be bullied.

They've barely stepped beyond it and the relief has been palpable.

He looks over at Will. "You made sure he was dead before you took care of the other monster."

Edited 2025-03-27 15:33 (UTC)

Will's smile in response is rather strained. "Yes. Both of us."

He walks past the large stain, catching the occasional scent of old dried blood, the occasional fleck of his own spillage onto the concrete. It's a little surprising that so much of that washed away.

Hannibal held out a hand as I was crouching in the aftermath, here-" He gestures. "And I took it. I...was enraptured by the scene... -still am, really," he admits. "I pulled him close and told him so. We were both suffering from significant blood loss, but I realized..."

He trails off and licks his lips, then bites them. "I would join him after that. I would...not only participate in murder, I would initiate it. And the close contact would mean-" He finally looks over to Malcolm and there's another smile, one more of relief than anything else. "-I would take on even more of his traits. I'd be something new. Happy with it, but- not entirely me. Not my design." He looks over the edge of the cliff.

Malcolm walks to the edge and looks down. Waves crash over rocks. He looks at Will.

“Do you… feel like you’re the real you now?” he asks. Or does being with anyone make that an impossibility? He watches Will’s face, but reaches for his hand.

Despite the thoughtful look on Will's face, his hand reaches back for Malcolm's. It's just like on the Barge, the way the fingers gently rub Malcolm's before he intertwines them together.

"I am. I feel like...I am defined by the company I keep, whether I want to be or not. The elements I let into my psyche."

His hand clutches slightly tighter to Malcolm's. "And I want you to understand how much you mean to me that I've chosen you. And how honored I am that you've chosen me, in return. No masks between us."

Malcolm smiles softly.

“I don’t want you to feel like you’re being… forced to feel a certain way ever again. I want…” He looks at their linked hands, the matching beaded bracelets on their wrists, then he looks up at Will’s face. “I want everything you let in from me to make you feel safe and valued and free and… warm.”

He looks over at the house, then looks at Will again.

“Thank you for showing me the place where doors opened for you… and you chose who not to be.”

"I did, didn't I?" He raises his chin a fraction of an inch, the beginnings of a real, satisfied smile on his face.

Will turns from the cliff, back towards the building. "You do make me feel all those things, of course. All the parts of you. No wonder I've found you addictive."

He smirks slightly and winks, looking over to Malcolm. It's clear he's in a good mood now. Before the trip, he was tense as a piano wire.

"Okay, let's...head to the real destinations. Molly first, then we'll find Jack." As a treat, after the difficult conversation.

Malcolm’s smile at the compliment is almost bashful, but his eyes sparkle brightly at it too.

He glances at the abandoned building as they pass, then looks at Will sidelong.

“How long do you think it’s been since… the cliff?”

Will's eyes shift from their door to the real front door and the windows beyond.

"Hmmm... I'd say six months to a year and a half? That plastic over the window won't last much longer than that. But we can grab a copy of the Herald when we're in town and check for sure."

Edited 2025-03-30 23:31 (UTC)

Malcolm nods, holds Will’s hand a little tighter.

“Do you think Molly thinks you’re dead? Are we going to give her a heart attack?”

"She's got a good heart. She'll be fine," Will replies with a small smirk. "And I'm counting on the surprise, if I'm honest. It'll make the rest of what I have to say a little less unbelievable."

He squeezes Malcolm's hand back, and pushes the door open with his free hand. "I'll take us to a town nearby first. We can do some research before we head over."

They step inside the ship and Malcolm tugs on Will's hand just enough to pull him into a gentle kiss.

"Do you want me to come with you or do you think it'd be better if I stay in town?" Or on the ship.

Will's eyes shut and he allows himself to thoroughly enjoy that kiss, gentle as it is. They can both use some comfort right now.

"I'd rather go off your preference, for that. If you want to be there or not. I know this situation is...well. Insane. And you already have to deal with that enough with the occasional Hannibal intrusion on the Barge."

He starts pulling Malcolm gently towards the console room, just so they don't have to part yet.

“I don’t want to make things awkward for you. And… I don’t want you to be obliged to explain me to her on top of everything else.”

He glances around the controls, then looks at Will.

“And I’m sure I can amuse myself in town,” he says with a small but warm smile.

"It's going to be awkward, either way." He smiles ruefully at the console, as he flips off the trans-dimensional setting and checks the rest of the various settings twice.

"But sure. Still contact me anytime, okay?" The communicator only leaves his pocket when he's answering it, and Malcolm knows that.

The travel goes quickly- nearly instantaneous, even. Apparently, traveling inside a planet is no problem for this thing. The door steps out in an alley next to a small (but bustling) Main Street. Will had decided on one of the nearby mountain towns as a stop, as he'd be less likely to be recognized there.

Malcolm follows Will out, looking around as they emerge into the street. He smiles and looks at Will.

“This is the area where you lived?”

He always enjoys learning more about Will, even if the details are small and/or only Will-adjacent.

"A little to the west of it, yeah. Our space was slightly more suburban..." He looks around, gets his bearings and points down ones side of the street. "That way. Here, follow me."

He leads them across street and to a general store. The front looks new, but it's clear this building (and every other building on the street) has been around since the Gold Rush era. There's a very distinct feeling of shops that have outgrown their space doing whatever they can to for back into them.

The general store is mostly groceries, but also pharmaceuticals, camping, and fishing supplies. Will isn't heading in, however, aiming for the stacks of community newspapers, sitting in between a giant wood-carved bear and the door.

"Thirteen months later," he declares. Then, quieter- "...and under a year until the pandemic, if we're going to have one." He searches for emotion attached to that and finds very little- save an increased desire to convince Molly to leave.

Malcolm watches Will's face, rather than the newspaper. Will can read the date without his help.

"I... wish I could say it wasn't that bad, but... it was so bad," he says with a wince. "That wasn't reassuring," he chides himself. He glances around. "A small town will definitely fare better than a big city," he adds honestly. "And it's even better if she lives outside of town." He looks at Will. "Does she still live in the house where you lived?" Because maybe he'd like to see it from a little bit afar before briefly parting ways with Will.

Will reaches for Malcolm's hand, giving him a small smile. "You don't need to reassure me. It's a pandemic- it's going to be rough. If she doesn't take me up on it, I'll try to give her some advice."

With that addressed, he continues. "She's probably there. It was her house before ours. Her first husband died when Wally was six." He was a hunter, which meant Will had stag heads in his house. He'd thought it rather fitting, right up until the letter came.

"You want to see it? It's two acres. I'm sure she's still got the dogs. She picked up more strays than I did."

Malcolm squeezes his hand and then holds on tight, but at the invitation he tries not to look too excited, though he fails.

“That’d be okay?” he confirms. He really doesn’t want to impose. But. A house Will lived in!

"Of course," Will says, amused.

He's lived a lot of places, to the point where he doesn't really feel like he's from anywhere. But Malcolm's always so fascinated by his past, like Will graced it with his presence. It helps him look more fondly on places he didn't give much of a thought to before.

"I'll set us up just outside the property. You can get a good look at it."

He keeps hold of Will’s hand, which is probably how he manages not to walk into anything as he looks around on their way through town.

“This kind of place for sure is better for you than a city. I’ve never lived in a small town. Does everyone really know everyone? …I guess the Barge is a small town. I don’t know everyone there. Maybe it has higher turnover than an actual town…”

"It is definitely the sort of town where everyone knows everyone, which is why I came to one I've only visited a couple of times. I was infamous before the scene I left at the cliff."

They reach their door and Will pushes it open, setting them in their kitchen. "I'd really like to talk to Molly before Freddie Lounds gets in my face. God, she probably made the aftermath hell for Molly..."

Ah, there was the guilt that made him decide to come here in the first place. At least he'd earned this one.

“That’s the reporter, right?” Malcolm confirms much more soberly. He knows what it’s like, their lenses in your face all the time on the worst days of your life. “I hope she didn’t find them that interesting when you weren’t there anymore.”

"No, she-" Will licks his lips, frowning in distaste. "She's always been obsessed about following me, even before anything suspicious happened. Even after Hannibal was incarcerated. I'd say it's a wonder Hannibal never killed her, but I think he liked her lack of shame."

He shakes his head and points them towards the console, much less worried about setting it this time. He was far more familiar with where they'd be going this time. "No, I bet she's still got someone watching out for them- if she's not doing it herself. Make sure you keep your eyes open for anything glinting in the trees."

Malcolm nods soberly.

“I’m… familiar with that glint. I know what I’m looking for.”

"I thought you might be," Will replies, with a sad smile.

The travel happens with a switch and a thought. When the front door opens this time, it's onto a small copse of trees, and a little creek running through them. The tree Will has picked to shove their door onto is almost wide enough to hold the door, but a little crack of space appears in parts where the door isn't flush. Will walks out with his hands in his pockets.

The house is on the other side of 'their' tree, and they're effectively hidden from view. It's large and looks like it belongs right where it is, among the douglas fir trees. There's a big wrap-around porch and rustic touches. It's at the top of a hill they're standing at the bottom of.

Malcolm looks up at it, his eyes a little wide, then he looks at Will.

“You lived here?” So lovely and rustic and isolated. “Did you love it?”

Will stares up at it. "I should've," he eventually says. "...I wanted to. It's everything I thought I wanted. A good home, a family, a house with lots of space. More dogs," he adds with a huff of a laugh.

"But it wasn't quite right, for some reason. I always felt like a stand-in, like someone's unwanted understudy. I told myself it was...imposter syndrome. That I'd grow into loving it as time passed. But..." He trails off.

Edited 2025-04-09 04:10 (UTC)

“He had a hold on you already,” Malcolm says quietly. “What did you do when you lived here? Not FBI work,” he assumes.

That wasn't what Will had been thinking, but that was what it came down to, in the end.

Still, he's a little tripped up, looking up at his little fairytale house that he could've just kept, pretending he was someone- no, something- else for the rest of his life. He almost let it happen.

"Uh- no. No, I got as far away from that as I could. I worked part-time at an animal shelter near here- Molly does legal work for them and put in a good word. Otherwise, I'd take care of the house, pick up Wally from practices...that sort of thing."

“I… know we’re all supposed to want a particular picture of domestic life,” Malcolm concedes. “But… maybe you just weren’t designed to live in just one place. You were made on a houseboat. You’re built to be a nomad. Your vessel is your true home. Maybe you’ll have some ports you’ll make cozy because you want to stop there again and again. Like LA. But… it’s not your fault or hers that you couldn’t be something you’re not,” he points out softly. “Or that the messaging has always been so overpowering that you couldn’t know you weren’t that.”

Will watches Malcolm explain the nomad aspect to him, and his eyes practically glow with fondness. He pulls Malcolm into a hug and brushes his lips over Malcolm's cheek.

"You are such a kind man," he says. "You're right about the nomad aspect, of course. But it's the darkness she couldn't see past. The world I...thrive in."

He sees a white SUV peeking through the trees, on the driveway headed to the house. "And I'd love to go over nuances, but- later. I've stalled long enough. Wish me luck?"

He does like it when he manages to stumble into pleasing Will just by saying what naturally comes to his mind. He squeezes Will back tightly and smiles at the brush of his lips. He nods at ‘wish me luck’, smoothing out Will’s collar slightly, his hand sliding almost reluctantly away from the contact after a second.

“And if not, break a leg,” he jokes, but his unserious smile turns serious. “I love you,” he promises.

Will takes in a deep breath as Malcolm smooths his collar and gets him ready to go. He feels steadier with the support. "I love you," he returns with a grateful smile.

He squeezed Malcolm's shoulder before finally tearing himself away. He hikes up the hill and manages to make it to the driveway as Molly is still pulling groceries out. Malcolm's enhanced hearing picks them up- although no one would miss the way Molly shrieks in fear when Will offers to help her carry them in.

"Oh- god, Will. You're not-"

"I'm...no longer dead. But it's a long story and-"

She's hesitant to ask, but she does. She still sounds frightened. "Are- are you with him?"

"No. No, Hannibal's dead, Molly. I've been in...a different place. Oh-" He catches a grocery bag that's slumping in her hand. "You might need to sit down for this, Molls. We can stay on the porch?"

"No- ...no. Come in. Wally's not here. Grab that last bag on your way?"

They make their way inside, and it's another half an hour before they're coming out again. Molly looks pale but determined, and Will looks concerned. They both start walking down the hill, directly towards the tree their ship's placed on.

Malcolm is busy while Will is in the house. He’s had an idea for a housewarming gift for Will for a while, but now that they’re near a town, he can work on it.

When the main door of the ship opens, Malcolm is pulling shut the bathroom door and stepping into the entranceway, a smile ready to remind Will that there is always someone here that’s happy to see him.

It's a shame that their ship is soundproof, because then Malcolm would get to hear Molly tell Will that "Sure, it's weird, but it's just a door," and that it's not entirely unexplainable.

Will opens the front door for her, and suddenly Malcolm's greeted with his husband and Molly Graham. She's a shorter woman with dyed blonde hair and high cheek bones. Her general style is very much based on practicality. She's a get-it-done sort of person. And right now, her eyes are widening to saucers as she takes the place in.

Will would place a hand on her back to steady her, but he's very much avoiding touching Molly. He catches the smile on Malcolm's face and gives him an apologetic smile in return. "Hi, sorry. She wanted proof." Because of course she does. Will had been so worried about talking to her that he never got this far in his offer.

He gives Will what he hopes is a reassuring look before he looks at Molly and looks at him and then back again. Did he tell her he’s traveling with someone?

“No. Right. Of course. I would too! Hi! Nice to meet you. I’m Malcolm,” he tells her, offering his hand.

Meanwhile, Molly is looking at his other hand- the ring finger. "Oh, you're- uhm, Will's husband. Of course." She reaches up to shake his hand. "From the...afterlife rehab clinic."

Even she realizes that she's tripping over her words. But polite meetings as her worldview breaks apart wasn't on her schedule for today. "Sorry, I'm not usually-"

She's cut off by the sounds of barking from Winston and Buster, currently in the courtyard. Molly's face softens, and she's threatening to smile for the first time since Will approached her. "Of course you have dogs here."

The barking sets off baby yips from behind the bathroom door, which makes Malcolm wince - surprise ruined - but he tries to just carry on like there’s nothing to know.

“Well, he’s a dog guy. We have a bird, too. Do you want something to drink?”

Will, inevitably, hears the yips and his eyes widen a little. A smile slowly spreads across his face, regardless of how he tries to stifle it.

"No, no," Molly replies. "That's okay, I just- is that Buster and Winston? Can I see them?"

Will finally lets himself smile and nods at Malcolm. "They're in the courtyard, right?" He knows what Molly wants. To see the dogs, of course. But also to peek around the place and make sure it's not some sort of trick somehow. If she's going to commit to being relocated to a different universe- to taking her son with her- she has to know that this is real and not some sort of elaborate...something.

“Courtyard. Yes. That’s where all the dogs are,” Malcolm confirms, backing up as they walk until he is ‘casually’ leaning on the bathroom door until they’re past it.

“If she wants to see the bird or the snakes, that’s cool too. I’m going to make some tea,” he adds, peeling off in a different direction, towards the kitchen.

And Will’s nose might scent the wet dog food he is definitely not putting on a little plate while the kettle is heating up.

Will is so tempted to go open that bathroom door, but he's at a very touchy stage in this whole thing. So instead he guides Molly around, through the living room and down the hall to the courtyard. She tries to keep up polite conversation, even now. Will tries to tell her she doesn't need to, but she interrupts- this is how she's staying sane at the moment.

Further talk is interrupted by more barking as Will opens the door to the courtyard. Molly is very much the same as Will, when it comes to dogs. She immediately forgets that they're in a space that should not exist and homes in on Buster and Winston. It's about five minutes of pets and praises until she starts coming back to herself.

As they leave the courtyard, Molly's expression turns more serious. "I need time, Will. To think about this. We're rooted here, you know that."

"I know," he tells her. "And we can stay for a few days. We can even come back for you later. But the time difference is hard to predict, while we're on the Barge. The longer it is, the less reliable we'll be."

She nods, biting her lip. "Uh...okay. I'm going to go and think about it, then. And meet Wally. He's going to be back from practice soon."

"Ah- damn, I forgot to get a burner phone. We'll be traveling a few places while here. But I'll pin the number to the tree, okay? Just call it if you need me."

Will opens the door for her again, and after a couple of pleasantries (including an 'it was nice to meet you, Malcolm' from Molly), she exited. She still did a double take upon leaving, but tried to keep it to herself.

And Will heaves a heavy breath out, as if trying to expel all the things they talked about in one fell swoop. He smiles tiredly up at Malcolm. "Thank you. I think that went...better than it could've, certainly."

Malcolm is still less of a natural at initiating touch than Will is, but he’s getting more confident and as Will closes the door, he offers his arms.

“I don’t suppose you’re up for a little more excitement in the form of a semi-surprise in that you can probably already hear and smell it………” Malcolm muses, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

Will reaches for him immediately at the sight of the open arms, hugging Malcolm and immediately relaxing. It had been nerve-wracking inviting Molly in here- this is his safest place in all the worlds. But she had to see it for herself. And she and Wally might both be here if she goes for it.

At the mention of more excitement, Will grins. "As long as I'm the surprise-ee, I think my heart can take it. Please-" He pulls away enough for Malcolm to see the twinkle in the eye. "Show me?"

Malcolm grins and gives him one more kiss before letting go and running over to the bathroom.

He returns with a brown puppy with big blue eyes in his arms.

"I found him at the local shelter. He didn't even flinch at my scent!"

He piles the puppy into Will's arms as soon as he's close enough, then looks up at Will's face.

"I wanted to get you a housewarming gift, since we moved into our forever home."

Will is struck speechless for a moment, when it's not only a dog but a puppy. And Malcolm got him from the shelter (if it's 'local' it's the one Will worked at). "Oh, wow...hello, little guy. Welcome to your new home. You're not scared of us because everyone here are monsters, huh? We're just smellier ones."

He rubs the puppy's belly and the dog wriggles with delight. It's clear he wants to run, so Will puts him on the ground. The puppy skitters around on the floor with his awkward legs and contents himself with sniffing everything he can reach. "Malcolm, this is...I didn't get you anything. And usually I advise against surprise presents of pets, but-" He shakes his head and finally looks up to meet Malcolm's eyes. "This is really special. Thank you."

"I know a rescue isn't the same as a stray," Malcolm acknowledges. "And I'd never get a surprise pet for... literally anyone else... but.... you were worried about bringing any more of your dogs from home on this journey and I thought... you just need dogs that are part of this journey. Once we were on the journey." He grins. "You think he'll fit in?"

"Oh, I think so. We'll need to play with him more while he's a puppy, though. Buster's not going to be able to entirely keep up with him." He has crouched down on the floor to pet the pup while he says this. Said rescue then jumps up with his little unstable legs to try to lick Will's face. He quickly figures out the hands are much easier. No hesitation whatsoever.

"Okay, then. You're definitely a Franklin," he says in between a couple of laughs. He scritches behind the dog's ears and looks up to Malcolm. "You don't know, but you nailed it. This little guy's a Blue Lacy. Rare, beautiful breed- but they're high energy. Just like Jet, he probably got dumped at the shelter because he was starting to get too active. He'll be little terror when he's more mobile. You might've saved him from being passed around."

Malcolm laughs with delight as the dog tries to lick Will's face and hands. He blinks and looks pleased at Will's conclusion.

"I did? Oh good! Well, he'll have lots of places to run with us," he says happily.

He crouches down across from Will and reaches out to scritch the dog behind the ears. "Hi, Franklin," he says with a grin. He looks at Will. "The guy at the shelter was telling me that a puppy mill got busted out in the countryside and the healthy animals - or the animals they had nursed back to health - had just come available today. There were more choices than usual. But I just felt like... this one wanted to come with me," he explains, still smiling faintly. He's never felt really connected to a dog the way Will does, but this one still stood out somehow in a way he couldn't explain.

Oh, and this dog would probably love running around with them as wolves. With a lack of fear, even at this stage, will be so nice for later training.

As Malcolm explains how he got him, Will tips his head a little to the side. Something about his eyes change, like he's understanding something new. His grin softens into a pleased smile. "That'll happen sometimes, when a dog picks you. It means that this dog is yours just as much as he's mine."

"...I never had a dog before. But... we're building our family now, right? So... I guess... he's ours because it's time for that?" Malcolm supposes.

Will considers that. "...everything we do, every big decision we make, we're going to do it together from now on. So that rings true. But the fact of the matter is that you chose him for me, and he chose you for you. Huh, Franklin?"

The puppy, who has been trying to throw a toy in the air for himself, responds with a happy "bark!" Not that he knows what's going on, but the responsiveness is nice. Will takes pity on him and throws the toy and the pup stumbles happily towards his prize.

He looks up to Malcolm. "Are you okay with that? Anxious about owning a dog?"

He puts his hand on his stomach. “I don’t know if anxious is the right word. It doesn’t feel like that. It feels more like… when you told me. How you felt.” He pauses, thinks, then looks at Will warmly. “Maybe I’m still not used to being chosen for me and it still feels like a big responsibility.” He smiles softly. “I don’t want to let either of you down.”

Will smiles back and reaches out to take hold of Malcolm's hand. "I know," he says softly. "And I don't believe that's even a possibility. But even if you somehow do something I'm disappointed about, I'll still love you. Always. And dogs-"

He cuts himself off to look at Franklin, who's currently wrestling with the toy.

"Let's just say I think it'll do you good to have one." He grins. "Do him good, too. You want to carry him over to the courtyard? Have him meet his new pack?"

His smile broadens, brightens and he squeezes Will’s hand.

At the suggestion, he looks at the dog and then looks at Will and nods. He lets go of his hand to step over to the dog and scoop him up.

“Come on, Franklin, let’s meet your brothers…” he looks at Will to make sure he’s coming, then heads into the courtyard.

As soon as Will opens the door, the two adults bound over and attempt to sniff at the puppy, tails wagging furiously. Winston gives some small little woofs, while Buster is surprisingly silent. Will had decided to forget leashing them- it looks like that was the right choice.

"Guys, this is Franklin. Be nice to him, okay? He's still learning how to get around. Franklin, this is Buster and Winston. What do you think?"

Franklin wiggles happily in Malcolm's arms, all limbs all of a sudden.

Malcolm laughs and sets him down so the sniff-fest can begin in earnest. As he straightens up he looks at Will, shifting a little closer to him.

“I know it’s a hard day…” The whole Molly situation, that is. “But…” He glances around, then looks at Will again. “It still barely feels real. All this. Doing this. That it’s all ours and we can do this.” He reaches for Will’s hand. “That it’s just us now and only people we invite to our life.”

The two adult dogs circle around the puppy, sniffing and wagging their tails. Franklin tries to lick their noses, continuing his ongoing campaign to taste as much of his world as possible.

Will watches them while squeezing Malcolm's hand. He's already satisfied that the introduction was a success, so he looks up to Malcolm. There's a warm, quiet smile on his face.

"It is. It's all ours. And I want to see it all with you." He stares down at the dogs again, charmed as Buster starts leading Franklin around the courtyard. "...I didn't expect to be this happy today. Not while we're technically at my 'home'. But you do seem to make the impossible happen."

The corner of his lips ticks up. "Not that I'm calling off our more violent goal today." He's been looking forward to his petty little revenge against Jack."

“Are we going to pop over there and then come back here?” Malcolm asks, using Will’s hand to tug him into his arms, where he can gaze warmly up into his face. “We probably don’t want to go over there with Molly in tow. She doesn’t seem like much more of a ‘wait in the car’ person than I am…” he muses, giving his husband a soft kiss. Well, his mouth is right there; it wouldn’t be reasonable to resist it.

Will chuckles at thinking of Molly 'waiting in the car,' enough so that he's a little surprised by the kiss. He leans into it, eyes closing as he basks in the warmth of Malcolm's love for him. It causes the kiss to go on a little longer than Malcolm probably intended. Will figures he won't mind.

"No, Molly's not coming with," Will rumbles, amused. "My plan was to get a burner phone, leave the number on the tree, then head out for a bit. Not just for Jack- there's a few more places I want to show you. And Molly would probably like a day or two to consider, without us living in her tree."

He doesn’t mind the kiss lingering at all. He likes it when he manages to distract Will.

At the new information, his eyebrows go up and he grins. More places? More places Will wants to show him, from his life before.

“I saw a place in town where we can get one of those phones!” Malcolm exclaims, letting go of Will to head excitedly towards the control room.

"Great. Shall we?" he replies, even though he's the one following Malcolm. "But don't let me near that shelter. It could get dangerous." They could end up with their new house full of dogs.

The trip doesn't take long- in fact, getting to a copy place so Will could write a number and then laminate the note (it will be on a tree, after all) takes longer than the phone itself. Will carries himself like he's on holiday- he pretty much is, isn't he? Regardless of their reasons for this visit, it's a break.

He sees a quaint shop that seems to be a cafe and chocolate shop and tugs Malcolm gently in that direction. "How about we check out out? This is the sort of place that tends to have really good coffee." They might as well take it a little slow and enjoy themselves.

Malcolm looks up at the sign and grins.

"I love a good coffee," he says happily, following Will into the shop, still clutching his hand.

"Do they have something like a strawberry mousse?" he asks, even as he's scanning the menu on the wall behind the counter.

There are so many chocolates. The display counters are full of them, all beautiful. There are a number of specialty drinks, as well as parfaits made with mousse.

Will asks for just the strawberry for Malcolm, and something less sweet for himself. He ends up with an espresso bean trifle.

"I had no idea a place like this still existed," he admits to Malcolm, as they put together their order. He even likes it. It's strange what he notices when he doesn't have a constant awful headache.

“It’s perfect. It’s like a Hallmark movie,” Malcolm says, taking a careful, small bite of mousse. “We might have to save Christmas when we’re done eating, though,” he jokes. He takes a sip of coffee. He considers his mousse, then glances at Will. “Are you going to be able to have some of this?” Most of it. Probably most of it.

Will chuckles at the Hallmark comment. "Ah, a twist on the classic. I'm the country bumpkin and you're the big city guy, and you come here to show me the magic of Christmastime in the country," he summarizes. He nods, content. He remembers something like that when he and Harkin were sharing dreams. Another breach that Red's been through. He wouldn't mind doing that again.

"I'll eat what you don't want, Malcolm. Always." He's not always big on sweets, but he's more than happy to enjoy treats if it means Malcolm gets to try them, too. "How's the taste?"

He smiles when Will says 'Always'. He takes another bite.

"It's really nice. Very smooth texture too. Not too sweet. Very... fruit."

"Sounds great," Will replies. "Mine's got the interplay of bitter and sweet. I'll probably be up an extra hour tonight. They did not skimp on the espresso."

He's silent for a moment, taking in the sights and the smells in here. It's fairly crowded- he expects some level of crush of the emotions of everyone around them. There's a few tired people, one lady who's just about at the end of her rope with her toddler. But the majority are in much the same space as they are- pleasantly surprised and enjoying the break.

"I'm a little surprised. Even this world, I see differently when I'm with you." He looks thoughtful, then shakes his head. "Maybe it's merely that I'm no longer tethered to it." If he sat down and really looked into it, would he condemn this world as strongly? Would he insist that Molly needed to leave?

Edited 2025-06-18 02:40 (UTC)

"Things look different when you're happy, compared to when you're sad," Malcolm points out simply, taking another small, careful bite.

Will's struck silent for a moment, and a slow smile creeps onto his face. "I suppose that's true."

There's a brief silence as they both eat, Will clearly savoring the flavor as he runs his tongue over his lips. He looks at Malcolm, then his gaze dips down to the table between them. "It took me so long to even understand what 'being happy' and 'being sad' was. During most of my childhood years, I thought it was being next to someone at the right time."

Malcolm smiles and clicks his spoon against Will's playfully.

"Isn't it?"

Maybe not in the way he thought.

"And here I thought I was a hopeless romantic." Will snorts and shakes his head, but he's beaming underneath the layer of snark. He lets out a laugh and eats some more of his trifle.

That's when he feels a chill down his spine- a searing cold that goes straight down to the spinal cord.

He looks up, pulling himself from his rose-colored mindset for a moment. He doesn't show off being alarmed, but he does look around. He listens and he breathes deep, taking in scents.

The woman with the toddler is finally leaving. The other customers are mostly still here, generally in no hurry to leave. There's people walking past the window and a couple on the other side of the street. It smells like the mountains, and one of the customers had a workout and didn't shower before they stopped here. He notices the distinct smell of old books for just a moment before the door closes and that fades, as well.

There's nothing. He turns back to Malcolm.

"Sorry. Don't think I'll be able to fully relax until we're out of here."

Malcolm notices when Will becomes suddenly vigilant, though someone who didn't know him would not. His own spoon hovers above the dish as he watches Will's face. He knows Will is in that zone where he's extending his sense all around him, feeling out all the people nearby.

His tension eases when Will's does, though his spoon doesn't go right back into the dish.

"...But it's okay? He's not... here?"

"He's not alive," Will replies, too loudly and forcefully for an ice cream shop. It earns him stares he's used to. Well, so much for being inconspicuous.

He licks his lips, takes a deep breath, and lets it out in a sigh. By then, the chatter has started up again. Will murmurs to Malcolm, far more quietly, "I saw to that."

Malcolm is accustomed to being stared at with vague unfounded suspicion. He barely notices.

“That’s a relief,” he assures Will.

"It is," he admits. "Doesn't mean I'm not keeping an eye out for Freddie or any of the other murderers I caught. I keep expecting them to be right in the corner of my eye."

He takes another bite of his treat, but- it doesn't quite illicit the same spark of happiness he had before. He's thoroughly ruined the mood by remembering what most of this world seems composed of. "I do feel closer to them here. I'll have to ask Wiktor if that's...I don't know, something."

“Well, they’re from here? So their energy is… in this world… somewhere. Right?” He doesn’t know that much about it; if he’s honest, he feels like… not even a third wheel to that training. Like winter tires in the summer, stored in a shed somewhere. But he gamely tries.

Will goes to say something. Then he stops, thinks, and rubs his face with one hand. "It all sounds so much more reasonable on the Barge. Nearly scientific, even. Here?" Will shakes his head. He sounds like a new age cultist, bringing it up.

"I'm not sure if it's energy, if I'm honest. That'd make the most sense. There are...connections I've fostered. That I asked for. I thought it was the specific way I could delude myself, a perk to all the downsides of mental illness. But what I was seeing was real. Objective, merely well hidden."

He sighs and gestures with his spoon. His tone shifts from serious to sarcastic. "Like the most obnoxious set of fingerprints in existence."

“You’re like the UV light and they’re the bodily fluids at the crime scene?” Malcolm hazards. Will Graham: the only UV light that can see the stain inside people.

Will chuckles, smile coming back. "That sounds more apt. I have to describe what I see, rather than show it to other people. And of course, most would rather not know about these sorts of stains. But they solve murders..."

“It goes over well with a very specific crowd,” Malcolm notes with a grin. Himself, for one. And others that are… less of a support when it happens but just want to milk it like a cow full of answers. He knows about those too. “It’s not weird,” he says matter of factly, taking another little bite of dessert.

Will smiles at Malcolm, then down at his treat. "It is weird. But if you'd like to be nicer about it, you can always call it unique. I- I don't regret the way I am, not anymore. I've missed my ability to See in certain Breaches, floods. I feel adrift without it."

He finishes off his dessert and leaves the spoon in the dish. "Most of my problems were with other people misinterpreting the very clear things I would tell them, willfully or not. Hence us going to rectify the situation with one in particular."

As Will's thoughts turned to Jack, the smile slid off his face. All right, maybe he regretted not doing him in with Hannibal ages ago. It's not like any of it got any better. Jack only became more Himself with the passing of Bella. But- acknowledgement of the hurt would be enough.

"I don't want to be euphemistic about it, but I do want you to be... you." He manages one more bite, then pushes the rest of his dessert towards Will. "Also it's just really cool when you do the thing," he says with a grin. He pauses, then frowns faintly. "That doesn't sound like them, does it?"

Will grabs Malcolm's dish in one smooth motion and starts taking bites out of it. It's a pretty practiced habit, now.

At the question, he gives Malcolm a knowing smile. "Not at all. You appreciate the act. Others would merely want the results, filtered down for their particular use. You've always been fascinated with the entirety of my mind. Same as I have been of yours."

It's a trait Malcolm shares with Hannibal, and that one trait had almost been enough to cover a myriad of monstrous acts and true sins in the murderer. How can he help but be enamored with it when it comes to Malcolm?

That recognition - of what he sees, of what Will sees in him - brings the biggest lovesick smile to his face.

"Do you think he still works for the FBI?" Jack of course. "They wouldn't have fired him?"

"Oh, he'll be there. It's all he has left. The higher-ups will let him cling to that job even while they start to 'phase out' the department. No one wants his position, truly."

He tilts his head. "Although...I was thinking we could wait for him at his house. He'd never leave it, not with all that remains of his wife there. I'm sure Forensics can enjoy his shiner the day after we see him."

Besides, Will wants to be properly menacing, and he doesn't know if he'd be able to with all those agents around. He taught most of them, after all.

Malcolm smiles, considering it.

“No, you’re right, that’s creepier.” He glances around. “He came to this town looking for you? At your home?” He’s pretty sure he knows the answer to that question, but the one that follows it is the one he’s truly curious about and he looks at Will’s face as he asks. “What do you think your life would have been like if he hadn’t come?”

Edited 2025-08-20 23:37 (UTC)

Will nods at the first question, because of course Jack did.

As for the second..."I'd still be with Molly, poorly imitating a normal man. Maybe I would've been home when Hannibal sent The Dragon to attack us. I might've killed him myself, but at least someone would've died."

The Look from a couple of customers return, but Will is too busy reconstructing how these events would play out to notice. "I can't say if I'd be too engrossed in my playhouse life to leave it or not, honestly. What I do know is- the longer I stuck with Molly, the more we'd both grow slowly dissatisfied."

Edited 2025-08-20 23:50 (UTC)

“Because you couldn’t show her all of yourself,” Malcolm surmises. “And she’d know there was a wall she couldn’t get past.”

PSL: Travels outside the Barge (w/Malcolm)

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