The Road Home

[abrightboy]

Raylan's loose ends had been tied in Kentucky and Malcolm's were as tantalizingly close as they'd ever been. He and Raylan made the trip to New York with the intent of discovering the fate of the girl in the box, so they could head down to Miami without... baggage.

They would have to start with the revelation Jessica and Ainsley had made to Malcolm right before Raylan was shot, sending Malcolm back to Kentucky: that Eve had infiltrated the Whitly family to learn more about the Surgeon's victims.

Malcolm let them into the New York loft - a space he considered theirs now, more than his, since they decided they might weather the hurricane season there after moving to Miami - smiling as Sunshine tweeted greetings. Once the door was shut behind Raylan, he opened the door of her cage. Ainsley would have fed her diligently, but nobody would have let her out to fly. Sunshine took off across the loft and Malcolm grinned, watching her go.

He looked at Raylan. "We can still bring her with us when we leave, right?"

Comments

[abrightboy]

Malcolm relaxed a fraction at that squeeze. Raylan didn't see him as complicit; wasn't rethinking this after all that.

Ainsley shrugged and took another bite of her pheasant. "You've met the Queen Meddler of the World," she pointed out reasonably. "You do better than most people, to be honest. Very few major family get-togethers pass in this house without someone storming out." She leaned forward impishly. "It's very rarely her." She poked her fork towards her plate. "You may as well have the pheasant. It's good and it's only going to get thrown away."

Malcolm still lingered by Raylan's elbow. Stay or go, he'd do whichever Raylan wanted and wouldn't do either until Raylan made the move.

[tinstar]

Malcolm had proven himself several times over, from his willingness to get dirty to finish a job, to not scoffing or turning his nose up at the places that Raylan came from. Malcolm didn't beat his wealth over everyone's head, despite his crisp suits. No, this idea was Jessica's.

He considered Ainsley and her comments, eyeing the plate before looking over at Malcolm. "Suppose if I said don't tell her I ate, that'd still get around, wouldn't it."

He was hungry and, after another moment returned to the table and sat down. He supposed too, that getting her to storm out was some kind of achievement, but it sure didn't feel like it.

"Suppose I oughta also apologize to you for gettin' fired up, but.." He wasn't sorry.

[abrightboy]

"She should be apologizing to you," Malcolm disagreed stonily, slipping into his own chair but not picking up his spoon. He folded his hands on his lap, squeezing the right with the left.

"For the record," Ainsley said, cutting off a bit more pheasant, "that sort of thing is the reason I don't bring guys I date home." She looked at Raylan. "The looking down her nose at what they do or where they come from."

"It's a psychological shield; something she does to protect herself from... vulnerability," Malcolm told them. "But that doesn't excuse using on us or on..." He glanced at Raylan, then looked at Ainsley, then looked at his soup. "People we care about."

[tinstar]

Raylan picked up his silverware and cut a few pieces off his pheasant. Hell would freeze over before Jessica Whitly would genuinely apologize to someone she felt was below her. He glanced up at Ainsley as he popped a bite into his mouth.

"I couldn't imagine how you could. Hard as hell to stand up to that and wanna come back," he admitted with a glance towards the door before looking over at Malcolm.

"I should have just let her take the tomatoes wins." He shook his head and stabbed another bite. He took a deep breath as he chewed and looked at Ainsley again, speaking once his mouth was clear. "But the offer to come down still stands. And you don't have to come alone if you got someone you wanna bring. Nothing else, you know neither of us are gonna take the same kinda view of it."

[abrightboy]

“You didn’t owe her the tomatoes win,” Malcolm said quietly. “I shouldn’t have said anything about it to start with; I knew she wouldn’t understand.”

But he was excited. For the first time in his adult life, he was excited about his own life and what the future held. He wanted her to be happy for him, at the very least. For a moment, it felt like she got there, but then he said too much.

It was axe throwing all over again, except on a lifesize scale.

“She doesn’t have to understand to not be a dick about it,” Ainsley said reasonably. “You didn’t agree with me interviewing dad any more than she did, but you also didn’t tell me it was the same as killing people.”

Malcolm’s eyes lifted from his own wringing hands to her face sharply. He didn’t even actually say anything and she answered.

“I know. She just gets on these trips, Malcolm. Let it go. She’ll get over it.”

[tinstar]

"No, it's fine. I get the sense that not a lotta people call her out on that kinda classist bullshit and while I might not be the first, I will be the most stright-forward she's ever had the misfortune to encounter." Raylan slid his hand over and under the table's edge to wrap it around Malcolm's.

"She ain't the first to turn up her nose at me either and she certainly won't be the last." And it was a win, primitively speaking, for Raylan. He'd kept his cool while she was in the room, by and large. She'd gotten a hit with her exit but that was all.

"It's nothin'."

[abrightboy]

Some sort of tension in Malcolm's chest released at Raylan's hand covering his. He gave him a small but genuine smile, clutching Raylan's fingers to give them a squeeze..

"It's not nothing. I'm proud of you."

Standing up to her wasn't easy. She was used to steamrolling over people.

"I guess next time it's my turn to storm out," Ainsley teased. After all, the time before Jessica had been Malcolm and Raylan.

"I'll try to remember to say something upsetting," Malcolm shot back.

She stuck out her tongue and laughed.

[tinstar]

Proud of him. It felt like too long since he'd last heard something like that and his grip tightened fractionally over Malcolm's fingers. Raylan smirked at Ainsley's tease, picking up his fork to take another bite of his food. He was glad they were used to snapping back to normal like nothing had happened.

"Guess that leaves me to look suitably shocked. I'm sure we got a lotta holiday's to get through, you'll get your shot," he told Ainsley with a smile, abandoning his fork to just pick up the piece of bird and take a bite of it instead.

[abrightboy]

Many holidays. Raylan wasn't going to change his mind because of something like this.

Ainsley saw him pick the pheasant up and she put down her own fork, picking up her own pheasant and biting into it with delighted abandon.

Malcolm noted it with a smile and a raised eyebrow. "What a display of hedonism," he teased. "She's going to be glad she missed it."

Ainsley ignored him and looked at Raylan. "Are you going to make fried chicken when I come to Miami? Because I feel like the fact that Malcolm ate it means it's legendary."

[tinstar]

Malcolm wasn't his mother and she couldn't erase what Raylan knew about him.

Raylan grinned at Ainsley behind another bite, happy to have some feral company in this, a den of propriety and rules.

"What's life for but enjoying the little things," Raylan argued, clearing his bite with the held grin as he looked back at Ainsley. "First time you come out, if you want. Didn't think gettin' him to eat a piece was such a big thing, but I'm not gonna argue it. We'll do a whole proper country spread. Bit different from everythin' you've gotten here."

[abrightboy]

“And I will be looking up how to make some of those things,” Malcolm declared of the spread. One man couldn’t be expected to make a whole spread alone.

“Oh, that’ll be funny,” Ainsley pointed out with a laugh. “Food cooked by someone who doesn’t eat.”

Malcolm looked faintly ruffled. “It’s not ... funny. I cook all the time.”

Ainsley gave him a ‘really?’ look, but Malcolm gave no ground, so she turned her disbelief to Raylan for confirmation.

[tinstar]

Good, he could use the help.

Raylan lifted his eyebrows at Ainsley's question and nodded. "Breakfasts, dinners. No lunches, but that's because we're rarely together at home for it but.. He cooks. It's good. He eats more often than not too. Not any more than normal but.. good days have two meals."

They were still small bites, sometimes no more than a few, but Raylan celebrated every fraction of progress.

[abrightboy]

"Two meals. Of solid food."

"Sometimes," Malcolm said, poking at his soup.

Ainsley shook her head and looked at Raylan. "You're magical."

[tinstar]

"No," Raylan protested gently with a smile and a shake of his head. "I just don't make a big deal outta what I'm used to and press that upon him. It's not his fault and he's not gonna eat more when everyone is staring at him and counting his meals and chiding him for how he eats when he does."

Raylan looked over at Malcolm, face warmly wrinkled. "'Course I want him to eat more, but it's one step at a time. What he can handle, at a time." At Malcolm's own pace, whatever end that lead to.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm met his eyes, smiling a little, then looked at Ainsley.

"And now that I prepare a lot of the meals, I can decide what I feel like eating."

"You could do that in your apartment."

"Dinner wasn't something I looked forward to when the only thing to focus on was the food."

Ainsley made a little 'ah' with her mouth.

[tinstar]

Raylan chuckled. "I think that means he likes watching me eat," he accused playfully with ta squinted at him sidelong before looking back at Ainsley properly. "I know, we're kinda disgusting; I try to not go into too much detail."

"Speaking of you not bringin' guys around to your mother, are you seein' anyone?" After all, if she was going to come down with company, he wanted to be prepared.

[abrightboy]

"I like talking to you," Malcolm countered. "It distracts me from having to think about the food."

Ainsley snorted at him. They really were disgusting. She loved it.

"I'm, um. Not. At the moment. I was seeing a guy, but... it didn't really work out," she told them, taking a nibble off the bird she still held in her hands.

[tinstar]

Raylan couldn't argue, wouldn't argue. Whatever Malcolm liked about it, about him, he'd take. Whatever made Malcolm happier. Healthier.

He nodded at Ainsley's answer. "Well, don't feel like that's the end of the world. Lady like you, I imagine you're going to go through some hearts before you find a good one. Break a few hearts along the way."

[abrightboy]

Ainsley laughed, ducking her head for a second.

When she looked up, she joked "Just as long as my mother doesn't marry me off to a suitable society husband first so I can quit my job and pump out grandchildren."

"Well you're probably safe," Malcolm told her. "Suitable society families won't touch us with a barge pole."

Ainsley put her pheasant down, her expression still relaxed and happy. "You know what? Maybe I'll meet a movie star or something when I go national."

"New money is definitely a safer bet," Malcolm teased.

She stuck out her tongue.

[tinstar]

"Lot more press coverage that isn't you behind a desk either," Raylan commented behind another bite of food, smiling crookedly as he cleared his mouth.

He glanced at the doors.

"She's not comin' back this time, is she?" His tone suggested he thought not but was asking anyway.

[abrightboy]

"Um, no," Malcolm said. "She hates losing an argument."

"She really hates looking like the bad guy, no matter how much she says she doesn't care," Ainsley added.

"Plus she's probably already replaced this meal with very expensive top shelf scotch," Malcolm added.

"We won't see her until morning," Ainsley told him. "When she'll pretend nothing happened."

Malcolm looked at Raylan. "Don't worry; we won't be here for that," he assured.

[tinstar]

He looked at the doors again for a longer moment before bobbing his head and lifting his glass. Had she lost? Did that mean he'd won? He didn't feel like it at all.

"Here's to the rest of a peaceful meal then." Maybe not the kindest thing to toast but it felt appropriate.

[abrightboy]

Jessica Whitly's children did not seem to take it as an unkindness and tilted their glasses towards him.

After the meal, Malcolm led Raylan upstairs to his old bedroom, gathering up the lamp he wanted to take for Willa and bundling it into Raylan's arms along with an FBI-crested backpack he pulled out of the back of his closet before holding up a finger for him to stay there a moment while Malcolm walked down the hall to his mother's suite, tapping on the door before opening it and poking his head in.

"Mother?"

She was inside, sitting on the couch, looking out the window with a glass of scotch in her hand. She looked over when he looked in, raising her eyebrows. "Are you still here?"

It wasn't an accusation; she was surprised they hadn't gone.

"We're just about to leave," he told her, stepping in and shutting the door.

"You didn't just... go."

"I'm not mad at you," he told her with a sigh. "But you have to stop this, okay? I would really, really like us to keep the sort of relationship we've developed since I came back to New York but you can't... treat my husband like a second class citizen. You can't come to our home if you're going to act like Condescending Rich Lady. You have so much heart and so much kindness in you. Why don't you show that to him for more than five minutes at a time instead of playing the role of Jessica Whitly: Society Matron? Why do you even want to be that? You don't even like those people."

"No, I don't. But we can't all... swan off and marry a hillbilly," she told him, taking a large swallow of scotch.

He gave her a look.

"Okay, I'm sorry," she relented, gesturing towards him with her glass. "But there aren't many places I'm welcome at any level, so I don't know what you think my alternatives are. You have freedoms, Malcolm. I have appearances to maintain."

"What for?"

"For me. So I can feel like who I was supposed to be before your father ruined it all. That's what for," she said petulantly, looking into her glass while she swirled the liquid around in it.

He nodded. "That's fair. Can you do it without demeaning my fiance?"

She closed her eyes and huffed a breath out through her nose and nodded. She opened her eyes and looked at Malcolm. "Are you still going to bring the baby after Christmas?" she asked hesitantly.

"Yeah," he said, nodding. "We're still bringing the baby."

Raylan was kind under his hard outer shell, too. The two of them actually had a lot in common.

"Okay. Well. Let me know how it goes with that lying little wench," she said mildly.

Malcolm pressed his lips together. "I'll let you know what we find out from Eve," he promised, then slipped out the door to meet Raylan back at his room and lead the way downstairs.

[tinstar]

Raylan waited, arms gently loaded though he opted to sling the backpack over one shoulder to make carrying easier, just in case Malcolm had anything else that needed holding. He couldn't hear the conversation from where he was and respected where Malcolm had asked him to wait, despite his curiosity. Malcolm would tell him if it went well or not.

Still, he watched his face carefully as Malcolm came back and didn't ask as they walked downstairs. After saying a proper goodbye to Ainsley where he reiterated their welcome mat to her, Raylan let Malcolm lead him out.

"She okay?"

[abrightboy]

Malcolm took the backpack from him as they descended the stairs. Raylan was neither a pack mule nor his butler; he just hadn't wanted his mother to see him removing his property from the house lest the notion of him slipping away become tangible to her.

As they stepped into the street, Malcolm met his question with a warm look.

"Yeah. She knows when she's being a jerk and she's sorry." He looked at Raylan more directly, "I know it's not me she owed the apology to, but I'm going to take the acknowledgement as... something, anyway. At any rate, I'm expecting this not to happen again." His expression grew earnest. "And I'm sorry." Because he had not brought Raylan there to be treated that way, but he'd always known it was a possibility.