abrightboy | Happily Ever After AU

abrightboy

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From:

conning

Malcolm’s tone makes Neal’s hair stand on end. What does he think Ainsley is going to do? Does he think she’ll hurt Rachel bare-handed?

But then Rachel realizes Ainsley is there, spins, the gun goes off, and while Malcolm makes sure Rachel fires wild, Neal tries to get to Ainsley. He’s helping her up as Malcolm checks the unconscious Rachel’s pulse.

His ears are still ringing from the gunshot. “Is she…?”

From:

abrightboy

“Unconscious,” Malcolm confirms. He casts around like he’s looking for something. What did Ainsley do with the knife? He stills.

“…Do you smell gas?”

From:

conning

Neal meets Malcolm’s eyes, his own huge. “We need to get out of here, now. That’s propane.”

He starts forward to get Rachel, but Malcolm has already scooped her up—again, hot, but a poor time to say so. They hit the main floor and the smell is all but overpowering. Neal feels sick.

“We have to find Miss Windsor,” he says, logic lagging behind panic and concern. “You get Rachel and Ainsley out. I’ll join you.”

From:

abrightboy

Malcolm stops.

“Neal, no!” he all but screams. “There’s no time; you’ll be killed! Who do you think opened the gas?!”

From:

conning

Neal hesitates still, wanting to argue that there’s even more reason to find Miss Windsor if she’s the one trying to burn the place down. “But—”

“Come on,” Ainsley gasps, grabbing Neal’s arm and practically dragging him along. She’s stronger than she looks, but then, so is Malcolm.

“We have to stop her.” It’s a feeble protest, and he doesn’t pull away from Ainsley’s grip.

From:

abrightboy

"We can't," Malcolm says as they run. Out the front door, down the path. "She's losing everything; all her secrets will come out..."

The explosion almost knocks them off their feet and he stumbles to hold on to Rachel without falling.

From:

conning

Neal staggers, hanging on to Ainsley and keeping her upright at the same time.

He turns around as soon as she's stable, taking a couple of quick steps back toward the burning building, numb with shock. There's something else under the numbness, a terror he knows is tied to Mathias. His breathing comes quicker, and he forces himself to turn back to the others.

"Are. Is. Are you two okay?"

From:

abrightboy

Malcolm's attention drifts from the burning building to Neal and his expression shifts to concern.

"We're okay." He looks at Ainsley. "Call 911."

She takes her phone out and starts dialing.

He looks at Neal as he sets Rachel down gently. "Are you okay?"

From:

conning

Neal focuses on Rachel instead of answering right away, shedding his jacket and tucking it in around her on the damp grass. He checks her pulse, like he'll be able to tell anything from it beyond "she's alive," and for a moment he gets stuck with his fingertips against her skin. He stares at her without really seeing her.

"She blew herself up." His voice sounds like it's coming from somewhere a few steps to the left of himself.

From:

abrightboy

"She was losing everything and she couldn't face it," Malcolm tells him. "She wanted to die with her school rather than live without it, without its principles, without the comfort of its walls."

From:

conning

Neal eases back to his feet. Shakes his head. He's still looking at Rachel, but it's mostly because that gives him somewhere to put visual focus.

"I don't understand it. She has a daughter. She has a daughter."

From:

abrightboy

“A daughter she had out of wedlock, against all the principles she preaches, that she hid in the attic like a dirty secret. A secret daughter the world was about to find out about because she murdered five former students. It’s worse than her worst nightmare. But do you understand why you couldn’t save her? If she couldn’t live for her child, why would she listen to you?” Malcolm points out gently, if bluntly.

From:

conning

That gets Neal's attention. He meets Malcolm's eyes, somewhere between stubborn and in shock.

"There's always a way. There's always, always another way."

From:

abrightboy

“Yes,” Malcolm agrees readily and without hesitation. “And she could have chosen that. But you couldn’t choose it for her.”

From:

conning

Neal gives him a longer, helpless look, trying to think of something to say as Ainsley walks back over to them, putting her phone away.

“Cops and EMS on the way.” She looks Neal over. “You don’t look so good.”

From:

abrightboy

“We were just in an explosion, Ainsley,” Malcolm chides.

She shrugs.

The police take Rachel into custody as she stirs and the three of them are whisked to the police station for a lecture from Gil.

From:

conning

Neal isn’t really listening to the lecture. Gil only has so much sway over him, that particular sway further damaged by Neal’s current opinion of the way Gil treats Malcolm and his personal space. They’re turned loose, finally, after giving statements and signing paperwork, and Neal breathes in the night air of the city with relief.

He looks over at Ainsley. “How were you not drugged?”

From:

abrightboy

She holds out her fingers. “New nail polish. Changes colour if your drink’s been roofied. Thought I should at least act drowsy or she’d be suspicious.”

Malcolm looks at her. “This was insane, Ains. You know that right?”

She sighs. “My dad was a serial killer, too, Malcolm. I was young, but… I’m allowed to be messed up.”

From:

conning

Neal doesn't feel like he gets to weigh in here. Not on this particular conversation. Even if he doesn't think Ainsley really does get how messed up her behavior actually was.

But.

"When you said I was a performer, what did you mean?"

From:

abrightboy

Malcolm nods concession to her point, but at Neal's question, he looks at her with a hesitant curiosity.

She looks at him blankly. "Just. You... " She frowns. "I don't really... aren't you?"

From:

conning

Neal glances at Malcolm, then back at Ainsley, trying to decide how to approach this. "What made you think that?"

From:

abrightboy

She shrugs and shakes her head.

“I don’t know. I just did, okay? Anyway, I have to go.”

She puts her hand up and hails a cab.

“I have a story to write in the morning, before I get scooped. Take my brother home,” she says over her shoulder, getting in the car and slamming the door shut.

From:

conning

Neal exhales softly, rubbing his face. He looks at Malcolm. "Can we go to my place tonight?"

From:

abrightboy

Malcolm nods. “Yeah.” He puts his own hand up for a cab.

At Neal’s, he draped his jacket over a dining chair and looks over at him.

“Are you okay?”

From:

conning

"Yeah," he says, automatically. Casually. Then pauses. "No."

A soft exhalation. "No, I'm. I don't know what I am. It's not that I haven't... I've seen violence. It's not that, really."

It's partly that, whether he'll admit it to himself or not. "It's the fact that she... that she would do that."