The Lengths That I Would Go To

[abrightboy]

The killer was moving around the country. Malcolm Bright could see the pattern, but he wasn't working for the FBI these days and they weren't exactly taking his calls. Short sighted of them, but they did fire him on suspicion of being crazy. The NYPD's jurisdiction was New York. With the killer beyond its borders, they handed it upwards and left it at that.

Let it go, Bright, had been Gil's sage advice. You can't catch every killer in America single-handedly.

Challenge accepted, some part of him retorted, though he'd only nodded mutely and forced a smile. Gil knew he hadn't simply let it go, but he wasn't going to have him followed to stop him doing anything stupid, either. He didn't have the will or the resources to keep tabs on Malcolm Bright 24/7 and Malcolm Bright knew it.

His mother, on the other hand, had extensive resources, so he simply didn't tell her he was leaving town. He did arrange for Ainsley to feed his bird, so the truth would come out eventually, but he'd be several states away by then.

He rode the bus. There was something oddly comforting about the anonymity of being in a crowd of strangers who had no interest in him whatsoever. He stared out the window and watched the country go by. When he stepped off the Greyhound in Lexington, Kentucky, he walked to a nearby hotel and checked in, then headed straight to the US Marshals office. There was no point in trying to talk to the FBI. If he was going to stop a killer from killing again, he needed someone in law enforcement to listen to him. The pattern suggested the next murder would happen in one of the rural communities around Lexington and it would be precipitated by a young woman's disappearance. He needed law enforcement with local knowledge, specifically.

He wandered into the Marshals' offices in a tidy three piece suit, charcoal grey with a burgundy tie perfectly knotted at his collar. He got a few suspicious sidelong glances but nobody asked if they could help him. He cleared his throat.

"Um, hello? I'm wondering if there's anyone here I can talk to about murder." He held up his hands. "Stopping murder, specifically, not... like... smalltalk."

Comments

[tinstar]

Raylan didn't buy it, not a single cent.

"Normal for you doesn't make you okay." The worry softened in his face, into something gentler and less overall intense as he glanced down at the bed before looking back to Malcolm. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

[abrightboy]

Malcolm swallowed hard.

After a moment he looked at Raylan, then looked away into the darkness of the rest of the loft.

"I was in my father's cell. It didn't look like it does now. When I was a kid I visited him there. He was in a steel cage inside the cell. They'd let me sit inside the cage. He was in leg irons and shackles. He'd usually sit on the bed and I'd sit on the floor in the corner by the door." He looked over at Raylan. "Sometimes, in these dreams, it's the day I told him I was applying to Quantico and that I wouldn't be seeing him anymore. He... wasn't happy about it, but in the dream he gets out of the shackles and the door won't open and he stops me. He was strangling me with his bare hands. I couldn't get the attention of the guard, even though he was sitting right there...."

He huffed a breath.

"It's dumb, right? Kids' nightmares. The monster under the bed."

[tinstar]

Listening quietly, Raylan watched Malcolm's face and the way it moved as he spoke and half re-lived his nightmare. If he had an opinion on the merits of kids visiting the jail cell their father's sat in, he didn't show it. It didn't matter, really.

"It's not dumb. Not with what he is." A beat passed. "I saw how you looked at him when we went." How scared of Martin his son really was.

"How did he react when you left that day? In real life." The day that Malcolm applied for the direct opposite of what his father wanted. Raylan still remembered how Arlo reacted when he said he was leaving to go be a Marshal. No pretty stories or tales of fatherly hugs and adoration there.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm was scared of the monster inside his father. That was true. But it was also so much more complicated than that. Complicated by the fact that he remembered how he felt with his father before he knew. He remembered how much he loved and admired him. How close they were. The fun they had. Complicated by the fact that he found out his father wanted to kill him on the camping trip. He was ten years old. Complicated by the fact that he needed to know things only Dr Whitly knew and never knew if the things he was told were true.

"He told me it was ridiculous. That it wasn't what he wanted. Like it was some sort of personal affront to him. When I left, I could hear him screaming at me all the way down the hall."

[tinstar]

Raylan's jaw tightened and let go again as he nodded, glancing down again before back to Malcolm, unable to take it all in without his righteous fury kicking up their little heels.

"But you went and did it anyway," Raylan reminded him with a little pull of his smile that didn't stay long. "And for a decade. It's your life to live, not his." His tone was clear in the fact that he thought Malcolm out to be proud of those things. Raylan set a hand over Malcolm's forearm, thumb brushing back and forth for a long moment before he patted and pushed up to his feet.

"I've gotta use the restroom, then I'll be back."

For Raylan, there was no question about where he was going to finish sleeping. It'd be right where he started tonight's rest.

[abrightboy]

Then he'd be back.

Malcolm looked less bruised after the first thing Raylan said, but after that, an actual smile broke through. When Raylan got out of bed, Malcolm fussed with fixing the blankets, so they wouldn't be all rumpled when he got back, settling back into the pillows, staring out the window at the city lights.

[tinstar]

Pissing didn't take long, nor the handwashing and few seconds he took to wash his face with water and question himself in the mirror. It wasn't yet light, but his brain wasn't sure of the difference and after a breath and an executive decision that it was too early for that kind of shit, Raylan shelved it all again and padded back out.

He yawned and scratched his head as he went, climbing back into Malcolm's bed and settling in with a sigh, watching Malcolm's face. "What do you think we got - a couple of hours til sun up?"

Would Malcolm even go back to sleep?

[abrightboy]

Raylan's face and voice brought Malcolm back from whatever thoughts danced around outside the window and his eyes came to focus on him. He smiled softly.

"Three or so." He leaned over and pressed a kiss to Raylan's mouth. "Sleep," he murmured.

He probably wouldn't sleep again, but he wanted to stay here like this anyway. It was all going back to normal the next night. This was it.

[tinstar]

Raylan hummed a note of acknowledgement, lips curling as Malcolm leaned over and kissed him. "What about you? You more okay now?"

[abrightboy]

A faint smile on his face as he again curled towards Raylan, he replied "Yeah. I'm okay now."

[tinstar]

With a glance down, Raylan unstrapped Malcolm's closest wrist and scooted closer, fitting himself better against the younger man so he could hold him with more contact.

"Don't worry," he breathed as he settled in again. "Your elbow can't be that sharp anyway."

[abrightboy]

The way Raylan pulled Malcolm into his arms made something flutter in his chest. After a moment, even though he wasn't sure if Raylan was still awake, he mused "Have you ever felt like you've been cold all your life but you didn't realize it until you found out what it was like to be warm?"

[tinstar]

Raylan hummed again, lifting his head enough to press a kiss to Malcolm's shoulder. "I stood in a creek once when I was a kid long enough to for me to think I'd lost my toes. Don't think it's the same though.." But it gave him the barest of bare ideas to turn around on its head to fit.

His arm tightened around Malcolm's waist. "Try to sleep, if you can." The idle brush of his thumb was the best he could do for 'It'll be okay'.

[abrightboy]

Obligingly, he shut his eyes, but he did not fall asleep. He lingered there in that warmth that seemed to seep right into the centre of him for a couple of hours, then slipped carefully from the bed, gently so as not to wake Raylan up. He padded around the apartment, taking a shower, taking his medicine. He ordered some pancakes and sausages and crept down the stairs to get them from the delivery driver, putting them in the oven on low heat to keep them warm. He found the affirmation card from the previous night on the floor where he'd tossed it and slipped it into Raylan's coat pocket. By the time 7am came around, he was in a plank position on the floor, doing a breathing exercise.

[tinstar]

While Raylan didn't go under snap quick, it only took a few minutes of silence for his breathing to shallow and even out, and by the time Malcolm slipped from his arms, he was out cold. Without a body next to him, Raylan naturally shifted, rolling onto his other side and sprawling out a little.

It was Raylan's alarm that woke him, a chirping from the far side of the living room, a sharp breath the only indicator as he cracked his eyes again. It was always a little jarring to not be in his hotel room, when he was in a bed, but the sheets and their scent were plenty of reminder. There it was, that morning light he'd half wanted to avoid.

With a stretch, he rolled over and eyed Malcolm's planking. It was the deeper breath that brought the scent of food and a rumble of his stomach.

"Morning," he grunted as he pushed the blankets off and sat up to lean his elbows on his knees and rub at his eyes. "What's that smell?"

[abrightboy]

The sound of Raylan's voice once again brought Malcolm's attention back to the here and now. He looked over as he eased up onto his knees, smiling broadly.

"It's breakfast!" he said enthusiastically, making a sweeping gesture towards the kitchen. He sprung to his feet. "No rush; whenever you want it."

Sunshine flew past Malcolm and landed on the stereo as Malcolm stepped over to grab Raylan's still-beeping phone and brought it to Raylan to deactivate.

[tinstar]

He grunted, huffing a smile with the sound as he pushed to his feet. Malcolm's morning person personality should have been tedious but Raylan still found it endearing, despite his disagreement with the sentiment in general.

"Mm good," he said, ambling to meet Malcolm halfway and taking his phone to key in his password and stop the alarm. With that done, his off hand reached for Malcolm and pulled him in with a smile. "Shower first, then I'll be ready."

He pressed a kiss to Malcolm's lip before stepping forward, letting his fingers drag across Malcolm's side for a second over his shirt before walking away. Ten minutes later, Raylan came back, less dressed than he had the morning before, with his jeans clinging around his hips and his hair wild and damp.

"Can't seem to get used to taking shit in with me," he admitted with a self deprecating huff as he fished out clean jeans and a pair of black underwear, grey trim, changing in them right there in Malcolm's living room.

What was the point of going back into the bathroom? What they'd done hadn't changed everything, but it had changed that.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm smiled into that kiss, leaning into his body before it trailed away from him into the shower.

While Raylan was changing, Malcolm took a plate down from the cupboard and a set of utensils, neatly wrapped in a linen napkin and gold napkin ring from the drawer, and set them on the island, then pressed the plunger down on the french press.

"Coffee?" he offered, glancing over as Raylan tugged his underwear up over his ass.

[tinstar]

"Please," he replied, stepping into his jeans and pulling them up before following with a clean undershirt that he seemed to wear under everything. Overshirt, socks and shoes could wait until after coffee. As he came over to the island, he lifted his eyebrows at the layout of fancy napkin, notedly the gold ring.

"Feel like I'm at a Four Seasons or something." It was strange but he didn't mind. "What's for breakfast?" His phone chipped with a text and he picked it up, smirking.

"Art assumes that I have been 'Eaten alive by the elite' but that if I haven't, I'd better not be late or they're leaving me here. The ride back is gonna be fun," he said, the last with a bit of sarcasm.

[abrightboy]

"That isn't quite what happened last night," Malcolm quipped with a tilt of his head before turning to the oven and taking the aluminum tray of pancakes and sausages out, setting it on the counter in front of Raylan's plate. "Have as much as you want," he assured the Marshal. "I won't have any."

He poured two cups of coffee and set one in front of Raylan.

"The only text I got this morning was from my sister. She said 'if you're not up to what mom thinks you're up to, you should be: he's hot.'"

He took a sip of coffee, watching Raylan over the top of his cup.

[tinstar]

Raylan looked at Malcolm from under his eyebrows, face curled and lined in amusement. Not quite, indeed. He hummed a note, finding himself growing more comfortable with his eating without Malcolm eating too, enough so that he had no problem helping himself to what Malcolm had definitely ordered.

The recount of Ainsley's text made Raylan crook a grin. "Well I'm glad to have her approval I suppose," he said with a half laugh in his words as he cut into his food, off hand pulling the coffee closer. "I suppose it's none of my business what you tell them but.." The glance he gave Malcolm had hope of Malcolm's modesty in it.

"I think they can be spared the details, hmm?" He knew Malcolm wasn't the type to give sordid details and smirked at him over a bite.

[abrightboy]

"As far as anyone's concerned, we're colleagues and we finished a case," Malcolm assured him.

Apart from not wanting to put Raylan in a difficult situation, he also didn't want to hear the questions from everyone about how he was doing and if he'd heard from Raylan and condolences about the distance and did he think they were going to see each other again. He wanted to savour the night for what it was and not listen to the world's commentary on it.

He stepped to the fridge and glanced around inside it. "Plain yogurt," he exclaimed, taking the container out. "Why not? It feels like a bit of an occasion."

He peeled the lid off and grabbed himself a spoon.

[tinstar]

He appreciated that, silently so and with only a faint nod before he shoved another bite into his mouth. There was the passing faint look of guilt as he did so but Raylan couldn't change the knots in him as much as he could stop his divorce.

"What a bright Tuesday morning," he quipped, secretly hoping he was the cause for the feeling of occasion.

"I get the feeling that your family isn't just 'anyone'." Which was to say, maybe he didn't mind so much if Malcolm was honest with his family, but he could understand the many reasons why Malcolm wouldn't. "Just 'cause I can't be..." His jaw worked, eyes making their way back down to his plate, some harsh internal accusations getting flung at himself as he struggled to push through. "Doesn't mean you can't be."

With the last, Raylan's eyes came back up to Malcolm's. "We're realists, you and I. Can you really lie to your mother like that?" And it wasn't to speak to Malcolm's defection skills but more to Jessica's intuition.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm ate a small bite of yogurt and looked up at Raylan.

"I don't lie to my mother," he said glibly. "I just don't answer her at all."

After another bite, he stuck his spoon in the yogurt and looked at Raylan again. "I don't want everyone to ruin it with their hamfisted attempts at trying to force me into what they think will make me happy. I don't want to see their pity-eyes when they ask if I've heard from you because they're assuming I haven't. I don't want to answer their questions about where I see this going because they think if I don't get somewhere with this, I won't get anywhere." He leaned forward. "I'm happy with things just being what they are. Telling people about it is just inviting pressure that I do not need and I don't think you need it either."

He picked up his spoon and poked at the yogurt thoughtfully and then looked at Raylan with a soft smile.

"It was a great night. Thank you."

[tinstar]

Same thing, different wrapper, and not answering invited it's own assumptions.

Once Malcolm was done, Raylan nodded mutely. He felt rebuked somehow, and felt it best to busy himself with the breakfast, unable to come up with anything other than quiet acceptance. The polite 'Thank you' at the end, despite the soft smile, felt like a stern steel cap on things, and Raylan could manage an expression of 'Your welcome, but the words wouldn't ever pass his lips.

"The food is good; where'd you order it from?"