Happily Ever After AU - for conning

[abrightboy]

From here

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[conning]

It works, ironically enough.

They get out of their cab near the public fish market, in a spot that seems like they’re just planning to shop. Neal walks with casual confidence, even after they’re out of the more populated areas and into warehouses that have stood empty since quarantine.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm is a little more of a sore thumb, looking up at the warehouses like he’s never seen one and dressed like of course he hasn’t. When they reach the one they’re supposed to meet James at, he looks at Neal.

[conning]

Neal looks up at the building, then at Malcolm, his instincts taut for no reason he can discern yet. "Stay close," he murmurs.

Inside it's quiet. Mostly quiet. Quiet enough for muffled voices from upstairs to carry. Not the words, but the tones are clear enough. One of them, Neal can identify as James, sharp and accusatory. The other voice is unfamiliar. Seemingly masculine. There's a smile in their tone. Smugness.

Neal tenses, hurrying for the stairs but keeping as quiet as possible at the same time.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm stays close to Neal's elbow, as instructed, though less because of the instruction and more out of concern for Neal's well being. He grabs Neal's arm as they near the top of the stairs, urging him to pause and listen for a moment.

[conning]

"--get away with it," James says.

Neal looks at Malcolm, stopping reluctantly out of sight.

"Already have, man." Young. Definitely male. Definitely smug. There's a distinctly New York accent to the voice. "You can't touch me and you know it. Now what are you doing here? Really doing here?"

Neal tenses. Nothing about this sounds good.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm is watching Neal's face.

"Do you recognize the voice?" he whispers.

[conning]

Neal shakes his head in the negative. He inches closer, acutely aware of every step and motion and the possibility for it to give him away. He wants to see who's there. He wants a glimpse, just that much.

"It's none of your business," James growls.

There's the meaty sound of a fist hitting muscle, and James gasps. Neal's eyes go wide. He jerks forward, clearly intending to run out and see what's going on.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm grabs him and yanks him back.

"Why did he ask you to meet him here if he was confronting someone else here?" he hisses. "He wanted you to see this."

[conning]

Neal looks at Malcolm uncertainly, coiled-spring tense. It makes sense, unless James wasn't expecting whoever this was. Unless he's been ambushed, too.

Another thud, a wheeze, a scuffle. A louder bang as someone hits the ground. Neal jerks away from Malcolm and bolts for the room the sounds are coming from.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm stays back. If Neal runs into danger, the only ace they'll have is if nobody knows Malcolm is there.

[conning]

Neal has never been very good at thinking with his head when his heart is involved.

He skids into the open and it's James on the ground, the stranger Neal's own age punching him in the ribs, face.

"Hey!" Neal shouts, and charges, without goal or plan beyond 'make the guy stop.'

Which means he ends up on the ground, tussling with the stranger, trying to keep the upper hand with someone who's more muscular than him and more used to fighting. Neal sees stars as the stranger clocks him, hitting the nearly-gone bruise on his face where Rhonda elbowed him in the asylum basement.

[abrightboy]

That’s what he was afraid would happen. The man has his back to the door while straddling Neal. Malcolm creeps in, picks up a chair, and clobbers the man over the head with it.

[conning]

The guy goes down, briefly, before he's staggering to his feet and just straight-up running for it.

Neal is too dazed to pursue.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm bolts after him, jumping over the railing from halfway down the stairs to tackle him.

[conning]

They go down in a tumble. Neal rolls onto his sized, still dizzy, trying to put together what just happened--

And then he hears gunshots from where Malcolm and the stranger disappeared. Emotion takes over again and he runs for the stairs.

[abrightboy]

The gun went off while Malcolm tried wrestling it out of the assailant’s hand. He manages to free it and it goes skittering away under some disused metal shelving, but in that moment the attacker knees Malcolm in the ribs to buy himself an opening and he bolts out the door while Malcolm tries to push himself to his feet.

[conning]

Neal doesn't bother going after the guy who's already half-way out the door. He couldn't care less right now about catching him. What he cares about is getting to Malcolm and making sure he's okay.

Neal checks the other man over almost neurotically as he helps Malcolm to his feet, oblivious to his own bruises and the fact that his lip is split and there's blood at the corner of his mouth. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

[abrightboy]

Malcolm doesn’t look any worse than when they got there, visible injuries from his fight with the elevator shaft, but none from their attacker. He stumbles as he reaches his feet, but Neal steadies him. He doesn’t answer the question, still laser focused, he points out the door.

“He got away,” he notes. He looks at Neal. “I’m so sorry…” He frowns. “You’re bleeding.”

[conning]

Neal waves off the comment. “I’m fine, it’s not serious.”

He assumes it’s not, anyway. Neal presses a hand against Malcolm’s cheek. “You’re sure he didn’t hurt you?”

[abrightboy]

Malcolm glances towards the door, then at Neal, then up the stairs.

“I’m okay,” he promises. “How’s your dad?”

[conning]

That's right--his dad. Neal gives Malcolm a wide-eyed look that says quite clearly he has no idea, then he's rushing for the stairs again.

James is sitting up by the time Neal reaches him. He tries to wave off Neal's offer of help to stand, but Neal insists, helping the other man to his feet as James groans faintly.

He's definitely the most beat up of the three of them.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm doesn’t seem super concerned about that.

“Who was that?” he asked without preamble.

[conning]

“One of the Flynns,” James says, wiping a little blood from his mouth. Neal offers his handkerchief, or starts to, but then moves to clean James’ face himself. The man winces in pain and surprise, but doesn’t draw away.

“Which one?” Neal says quietly.

“The youngest son of their former boss. The only one that really matters anymore.”

[abrightboy]

"What was he doing here?" Malcolm asks. "Did you invite him here?"

[conning]

James pushes Neal’s hand away so he can glare at Malcolm, and it hurts in a way Neal doesn’t expect. It hurts enough to snap him out of his concern and get between Malcolm and James. “Don’t look at him like that. Did you?”

“No,” James growls. “He must have followed me. He was the one who was following me before, too. I found a picture of him when I was working a lead on Ellen.”