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[abrightboy]

This is Bright. Leave a message.

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[creeksidealtarboy]

"No," he says with a shake of his head, something like panic in his voice. "I'm not going back home to be a fucking doctor."

[abrightboy]

“Are… you going back home? Because when you graduate, you can go anywhere. Don’t you hate it there?” Malcolm asks.

[creeksidealtarboy]

"No," he laughs. "Not really. I get fed here. Got a place to stay. Huge library. And no one knew the Bishop."

[abrightboy]

"I like it better here than at home, too," Malcolm tells him.

[creeksidealtarboy]

"Yeah? So where are you going after you graduate Kikimora?"

[abrightboy]

"Probably nowhere right away. Kikimora is my second inmate. I never had a firm plan on how long I was going to stay, but now that I'm with Will, I won't be leaving before he graduates," Malcolm tells him.

[creeksidealtarboy]

"Will?"

He sits back. "Why?"

[abrightboy]

"Because we're together. We're probably going to get married once he graduates," Malcolm tells him.

[creeksidealtarboy]

He almost argues that men can't get married, but he's pretty sure that Malcolm is from the future, and that's likely the direction things have gone.

Or, he reminds himself, Una was right about multiverses. Either way, Aaron has no personal objection to it, though it still makes him antsy in the same way Norton does.

"You want to get another drink?" he drawls.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm glances at his own glass, which still contains most of its contents. He smiles. "I'd be happy to pour you another," he says, getting up.

[creeksidealtarboy]

When he walks away, Aaron lets out a breath and leans back. He doesn't intend on drinking much more, if anything, if only because it'll make him chatty, but this gives him a moment of a break.

At least he's not trying to take a swing at him.

So when Malcom returns, Aaron's comfortable again.

[abrightboy]

"You know, the infirmary isn't going anywhere," Malcolm tells him as he hands the glass over. "You can work in the chapel now and if you decide you want to learn some medical skills later, you can. You're not hedged in, in that respect."

[creeksidealtarboy]

"Yeah, I'm all talked out about work, doc," he tells him, holding the glass but not actually drinking from it.

[abrightboy]

"Fair enough. What do you want to talk about?" Malcolm asks.

[creeksidealtarboy]

"Dunno. Aren't you supposed to ask me about my feelings and tell me everything's my moms fault?" he snorts, putting the glass down, untouched.

[abrightboy]

"Why? What did your mom do?" Malcolm asks curiously.

[creeksidealtarboy]

"Oh. She was crazy," he says simply. "Least she was right before I left. Talking to herself. Arguing with people who weren't there."

Which is a much more interesting subject.

[abrightboy]

“Is that where you got the idea for the Aaron and Roy Show?” Malcolm asks.

[creeksidealtarboy]

Aaron remembers pouring over every book in the town library's collection about mental health which, admittedly, was miniscule. He wanted to know how someone could go from slightly odd and a little quirky but mostly functional to full out hallucinations in what seemed like a short time. He had so desperately wanted to fix his mother, to save her somehow, but the only useful information he found was about multiple personality disorder and how it manifested. He didn't think it was relevant then, but he kept that knowledge like he did everything else, locking it away for further study at another time.

"Nah. Saw an old movie once. It was called uh - Dave and Lisa! No. David and Lisa. The girl had other personalities."

[abrightboy]

Malcolm smiles a little, but it’s tired.

“You’re still telling me stories,” he says. He saw something cross Aaron’s face before he spoke. He can’t put a name to it yet, but he saw him settle on his answer. An easy answer. A glib, safe answer. “Are they for my benefit or yours?” he asks.

[creeksidealtarboy]

Aaron hasn't had anyone call him out on his lies before. It's disarming, the way Macolm so easily does it. No one's ever simply been...disappointed in him rather than angry. He hates that even more.

He clenches his hand, but he remembers how Malcolm had so easily put him on the floor and decides against it.

"I don't give a shit about your feelings, doc."

It's mostly a true answer.

[abrightboy]

“So for yours. To protect yourself,” Malcolm surmises.

[creeksidealtarboy]

"Guess so," he mutters, finally picking up his glass and drinking from it.

"Did see that movie, though."

And he gives him a lopsided little grin.

[abrightboy]

"There's a newer movie about DID you might enjoy. It's called Split, if you're poking around the movie section of the library," Malcolm tells him.

[creeksidealtarboy]

"Don't care about it that much," he laughs. "I found a whole bunch more that I used to watch the other day. Had a whole movie marathon in the common room."