"Sure it does," Malcolm answers simply. "People you respect or trust always betray you. Of course it felt the same." He pauses. "I didn't... say what I said because it was Will. I said what I said because I thought I was losing you and I just... flailed for purchase in anything I could reach. And it blew up in my face, because provoking you enough to make you speak to me just... made you hate me and that was even worse. I didn't think something could be worse, but then I did it and it was worse."
"I mean, that might be... overstating a little, as well. The always part." He shifts a little on his stool, uncomfortable less because of what Malcolm said than because he can think of instances in which almost everyone but Sara and June did. Peter, El, Mozzie, Jones--not Diana. She hid things from him, certainly, but she never betrayed him.
He looks up, blue eyes worried. "It was impermanent. That feeling. The reason I said it. I was angry, furious, at the things you said, yeah, but... I also was so angry at you for not existing before then, for being so kind until that point, and caring so much when no one else did. For doing all that and then finding Will and turning into someone I couldn't keep."
"I know. I want to. It just... It's hard for me to care about someone as much as I care about you without weighing how likely it is you'll pick me if it came down to that kind of choice. In my life..." A soft, mirthless noise. "In my life, it always has. And I'm never the one that gets chosen."
"I'd never turn you away when you need a friend," Malcolm says. "Even if it's just because you're feeling lonely and you just want to..." He gestures around. "Drink tea and play chess with someone."
“Sure. If you get past the fact that I’m macabre and peculiar,” Malcolm points out. “That kind of puts a stop to things before the opportunity to be a supportive friend comes up.”
Neal smiles crookedly at that. "Half the barge is macabre and peculiar in their own ways. Anyone who can't acknowledge it respectfully in someone else is a hypocrite."
"Yeah, but when I tell them that, they just tell me I don't understand people like I think I do," Malcolm says with a smirk. "Apparently, I'm bad at my job, but it isn't personal or judgemental of them to say so. ...I think the next time someone tells me that, I'm going to ask what it is, then."
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He looks up, blue eyes worried. "It was impermanent. That feeling. The reason I said it. I was angry, furious, at the things you said, yeah, but... I also was so angry at you for not existing before then, for being so kind until that point, and caring so much when no one else did. For doing all that and then finding Will and turning into someone I couldn't keep."
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"I know. I want to. It just... It's hard for me to care about someone as much as I care about you without weighing how likely it is you'll pick me if it came down to that kind of choice. In my life..." A soft, mirthless noise. "In my life, it always has. And I'm never the one that gets chosen."
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"I'm never had a friend that let me do that for them."
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