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

[tinstar]

"Beatin' the streets," Raylan echoed, looking over with a confused but slightly amused twitch of his features. "We aren't street cops and right now, we got no real information." He shifted a little, body turning towards Malcolm, the starts of, anywhere behind closed doors, an embrace.

"You need a break and quite frankly, I need to get you behind secure doors in case you're next." A beat passed. "You realize you could be the next target, right?"

And Raylan wasn't going to let that happen on his watch.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm frowned. “You think he already knows that Dr Whitly told us something?” he confirmed. “…But by that logic you’re a target, too.” And that did not sit well in his stomach; he brought Raylan into this. He was the only reason Raylan was within ten feet of it. His brow creased. “Maybe you shouldn’t have come,” he murmured, all the wind out of his sails.

It took a lot to make him want Raylan to be anywhere that wasn’t beside him. It took a lot to make him consider dropping a case he was obsessed with.

“Maybe we should have just gone to Miami.”

[tinstar]

"Your visits to Martin are documented; My bet is they assume he's already told you somethin', prior to our visit today," he laid out reasonably. "My bein' here has no real connection outside of today's visit. And even if that wasn't the case. I've still got an active list of people that wish me six feet under, Malcolm. Men badder and madder than what I've seen today."

He was always, technically, in danger. That was part of what Malcolm had signed up for.

Raylan took a deep breath as the door opened, drawing him away from whatever else he might have said.

"Let's go home. No world in which I wouldn't'a come. If we keep goin' is up to you, but that doesn't eliminate the danger you're already in." Malcolm should know Raylan well enough by now to know that he wasn't the type to fold up and leave a known threat hanging in the air if he could help it, but this was Malcolm's show and Raylan would let him direct it, protecting him from whatever might come.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm had assimilated the dangers of Raylan’s job and life: the things that made him who he was, all complex and messy but still kind. He hadn’t prepared to be the danger to Raylan. Still, maybe his cowboy had the right idea. Go home. Step back. Breathe. Think.

He nods and takes a deep breath, looking up at Raylan as the elevator stops.

“Right. Yeah. Perspective.”

[tinstar]

Raylan nodded and guided Malcolm back out into the car, eyes and head on a swivel and insistent of rushing Malcolm into his seat. Yes, the Marshal was on high alert and the same protective herding was used to guide Malcolm upstairs into his apartment. Throwing both locks and the chain, Raylan stalked his way into the kitchen where he took off his hat and dropped it on the counter with a deep breath.

"We'll give the Feebs a few hours to sort out who the unlucky bastard was who lost his eyes. I'mma call the office," he started, pulling out his phone to pace out into the middle of the apartment. "Have them run down anything they can find out about Nicolas Endicott. Inside fourteen hours, we'll have enough information for our next move."

[abrightboy]

Malcolm wrings his hands, shifting his weight back and forth before actually pacing, though never far from Raylan. He’s supposed to be doing… something. He’s supposed to be useful. Fourteen hours. An eternity when he’s walking the razor’s edge of his anxiety.

[tinstar]

Raylan reached out, roping Malcolm into his chest as he spoke the facts sternly into the phone. Yeah, apparently, Rachel would get back to him as soon as she knew anything. No, nothing had come of the BOLO yet. No, they hadn't gotten any calls from the NYPD or the FBI.

He thanked her and closed the phone, wrapping his free arm around Malcolm.

"Just breathe, Malcolm. That's all we gotta do right now, is breathe."

It was more than just him knowing how anxious and spun up Malcolm was; he could feel it. It was nearly palpable around them and as much as he knew his affection and reassurance really worked, he also knew that it wasn't near enough to quell the wave of anxiety that rocked his intended.

[abrightboy]

Breathe.

Malcolm’s arms slid around Raylan and he tipped his cheek against the Marshal’s shoulder, taking a deep, deliberate breath.

Breathe.

He closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of Raylan’s skin and Raylan’s aftershave, tension easing fractionally out of his frame.

“They tried to murder my father,” he murmured. “What if they try again?”

[tinstar]

"Stone cold killer, your dad," Raylan muttered. "I think today proves he's gonna be harder to kill then all that. They know what he is which means they sent someone who they thought could get the job done. They either overestimated themselves or underestimated him but.. The more I learn.. If you hadn't called him in, would anyone have? Would anyone else have even known? Or had half an inkling?"

Raylan wasn't sure he would have.

"He'll be alert. Ready. High from the blood he got already. He'll be okay."

Was he really comforting that the Serial killer would be okay??

[abrightboy]

A little bit, but at the assurance, Malcolm sunk against him. Maybe it was all right to comfort the broken little boy inside his fiance that his father would be okay. Feelings were complicated.

“You don’t think they’ll go after my mother or my sister?” They hadn’t been involved; Malcolm hoped that made them uninteresting.

[tinstar]

Everything about this was complicated but Raylan knew that going in. He couldn't ever say how complicated it might elevate to and that didn't much matter either. He was here, he loved Malcolm and he wasn't leaving the man alone with this bullshit.

"I don't think so, but you might ask Gil to keep an extra car on 'em, just in case. I'm sure he's already heard by now."

[abrightboy]

Gil.

“…I’ll text him.”

He unwrapped from Raylan just enough to get his phone out of his pocket, leaning his shoulder into Raylan’s chest while he typed the message. A response came before he even managed to slide the phone back into his pocket. He looked up at Raylan with something like relief.

“He’s already done it.”

He tossed the phone onto the counter next to Raylan’s hat and then turned to melt against him again.

[tinstar]

One thumb kept it's brush against Malcolm's shoulder as Raylan peered down at Malcolm's screen. There was a silent approval for both Gil's quick answer and the answer itself as he wrapped himself more tightly around Malcolm. Would that he could fix it all with this alone.

"He's a good cop. And he cares about your mother a lot." The 'They'll be good together' was unspoken, Raylan knew how weird it was for Malcolm to think about sometimes. "Ainsley too. They'll be okay."

He couldn't promise, but he knew Gil would work just as hard as he and Malcolm did to ensure it.

"What do you wanna do? Take a shower? I can make you some tea?"

[abrightboy]

Malcolm nods against him, letting go, but not moving away. He shifts his weight back just enough to scrub both hands over his face.

“Tea. Let’s… start with tea. I just… it’s so much so suddenly.” He looks at Raylan. “What if she’s still alive?”

[tinstar]

Raylan nodded and stepped away to fill and set the kettle on the oven, answering as he did.

"That's what it sounds like he told us, unless you think he was lyin'. If she's alive, then we find her. Eve's picture is a good place to start. But if she's been off the map for twenty years, that means she knows what she's doin'. That makes it a little harder. You ever find out how she got away from Eve in the first place? She.. age out or something?"

With the kettle on and a cup pulled down, Raylan went to go lean on the counter next to Malcolm again, hazel eyes worried as they studied Malcolm's features.

[abrightboy]

Getting Malcolm to put on his analytical hat was a good way to distract him.

“I never got to talk to her about it, but… when I went out with her… I let her and JT’s wife talk me into profiling her. She has a tattoo inside her wrist that is shared with someone else - someone she was separated from and then lost - someone who was old enough to bring her to a tattoo parlour when she was underage. If that was Sophie, she was old enough to leave an orphanage without getting adopted while her sister would have had to stay. Her last name is Blanchard now, not Sanders. They went separate ways after losing their parents because of how the system works. But they stayed in touch. Until Sophie disappeared one day. The day the Surgeon took her and put her in a box. But she traded leverage on Nicholas Endicott for her freedom. Either that freedom was so fragile or so fraught with danger, she didn’t dare contact her only living relative, knowing Eve could only think her dead.”

[tinstar]

The analytical hat both distracted Malcolm and gave Raylan more information to work with, both mutually good things. If Malcolm could calm himself down with repeating the puzzle, laying the pieces back out onto the black felt mat of his mind, he might see something Raylan would never be able to.

"You really think it was all just a lie? Your father is a lotta things, but gullible is not one of them and he's not above lying to you to tuck somethin' away." But Raylan's jaw was still working. Whatever he was chewing on would have to wait as the kettle screamed to life behind them.

Raylan turned to tend to it.

"There's no way Sophie would have stayed in New York. Too much risk being recognized.. She was bein' looked for actively at the time, right?"

[abrightboy]

“My father is a pathological liar, but that’s not what we saw. He’s also a profound narcissist, and he would love nothing more than to present himself as the saviour of our family. If he had those files, now is exactly when he would use them. He’d make a production out of giving them to me. He’s sing his own praises to the heavens. No. He was angry. He was angry because he had to admit that he’s useless in this fight. He has nothing to offer. He has no carrot to dangle to bring me running back. That’s why he got upset.”

Malcolm watched Raylan pour the water.

“She must have been. Maybe by Endicott’s people. If her existence wasn’t a risk to people around her, she would have contacted her sister.”

[tinstar]

If there was one person that Raylan trusted utterly to read Martin Whitly, it was Malcolm. Just like he was the best to reading and playing against Arlo; there was a thing with Fathers and Sons. Alright. Martin was telling the truth. Did that mean that Sophie really just lied that well? If so, were they just betting on Endicott having something to hide?

Man of that power and wealth always had something to hide. Maybe Endicott was afraid she did have a file.

Walking Malcolm's tea over, he nodded.

"Has Endicott ever been brought up before? Brought over to one of your mother's fancy dinners? Is this the only string your family has to him?"

[abrightboy]

Malcolm thought about it before finally, slowly shaking his head as he reached for his cup, wrapping both hands around it and holding it close to his chest.

“After my father was arrested, most of high society shunned my mother. The murderer’s wife must have known, were the whispers. But Endicott was a bigtime mover and shaker and he still came around. We saw him now and then.”

[tinstar]

Raylan nodded again. "That's a good thing. Puts y'all further away but.. If he made a deal with Martin, like we know he did, your mother and sister need to be careful right now. I don't think they're in danger, like I said before but.. He's aware of them. And he's built up trust with not being cruel to Jessica.. Can you tell her to be careful without her freaking out? Her or Ainsley?"

[abrightboy]

“I can try, but… you’ve met her. Since my father betrayed her, she’s been an insufferable combination of sharp and nosy. She’ll have questions,” Malcolm mused. “And my sister is even worse.”

[tinstar]

Raylan sighed and nodded again. "So it's better not to, no matter the gains. Jesus," he ended with a mutter and a heavy sigh as he rubbed his face.

"Things will look better in the mornin'. We'll have more information. Gil's car on them will be enough. For now," he continued with a pointed lift of his eyebrows at Malcolm. "We need to focus on calmin' down and getting some rest. Tomorrow is gonna be a busy day and I think we'll get a good ways on where we need to look."

He reached out, pulling Malcolm by his hip into him. "I've got Miami to show you. We've got a beach wedding to plan." He wasn't going to let anything get in the way of that, not even Nicolas Endicott.

[abrightboy]

Raylan definitely knew the right triggers to calm Malcolm down. Things were happening. Bad things. He saw Malcolm’s father poke a man’s eyes out that afternoon while grinning like a maniac. The Whitlys, apparently, had a powerful enemy that most of them never asked for. The girl in the box was out there somewhere.

And he still wanted to get married. That life by the ocean… the sort of life that he could never hope would be in his future… it was within reach.

“I have a lot of ideas for the reception,” Malcolm told him, slipping his arms around Raylan’s neck. “For the music and the food. Something informal but… memorable.”

[tinstar]

It had been a long day and Malcolm had spent most of it on the edge of his proverbial seat or literally beating on windows. Raylan was only a bystander and he was a little exhausted; Malcolm's system had to need a break. What better than serotonin.

What he'd seen today changed nothing beyond reaffirming how good a soul Malcolm was. To still care if something happened to his father despite it all. How he managed it, Raylan wasn't quite sure.

"We're still gonna have it on the back porch of a house we don't have yet, right? I really like that idea. Make it personal since.." He smirked a little. "I'd definitely call it that."