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[He nods as Will explains what happened. Of course the blade had to be pulled out so the healing could take effect. He’s pulled easily into a hug, still clutching Will’s clothes to his chest with one arm, the other wrapping around Will to hold on tight.

He can see he’s okay now, but…]

You still had to experience it. [His voice is a little muffled by Will’s shoulder, but clear enough to understand.] So… all yours. The arterial spray, the quantity of pooling… is because it severed the brachial artery. When the blade was removed, it pumped freely until the artery healed.

...yeah.

[ The fact that he doesn't have to explain it is not as much of a silver lining as he hoped it would be. ]

It healed quickly, but this is still the end result. If I'd been an inch-and-a-half luckier, it would've hit the wall instead of me.

[ He tightens his grip on Malcolm, mostly to show he'd have them closer if that were possible. ]

It wouldn't help if I say I've been through worse, would it?

That wasn’t right either. You didn’t deserve that any more than this.

[Malcolm lifts his head, but only because he wants to kiss him, softly, tenderly, first on the lips and then on the front of his shoulder, where bare skin, freshly healed, peeks through the gap in torn fabric.]

[ That's what Will figured. He lets Malcolm do whatever he wants to right now, kissing back like Malcolm's providing the air in the room and then looking down at his shoulder.

The old sucker scar of a bullet wound is still there, facing forward, as is the small jagged scar from taking a knife during his cop days. But the rest of it is damn near pristine. In fact, it's less covered with blood than the rest of him, considering he used his mangled shirt to wipe it off. Had to show Sebastian he really was healing, after all. ]

[Malcolm smoothes a thumb over the skin there, the familiar old scars, the smooth new skin and looks up at Will’s face.]

It doesn’t hurt anymore? You’re really okay? Like. Emotionally?

I'm really okay.

[ He knows how hard this is for Malcolm to believe, so he tries to figure out how to describe it. As he continues, his voice takes on a softer tone. ]

Considering my work, I've felt things like this dozens of times, done things like this to a hundred people. I've felt a million different ways about it. I can know intellectually that it's not me, but emotionally...

[ He doesn't talk about this very often, certainly not in these terms. ]

I've spent a lot of time working through my issues with that sort of pain. So this, without any lasting harm...it's just another dry leaf falling onto a pile of them.

[ His eyes drop to look at the top of Malcolm's head. He presses a gentle kiss to it. ]

I was more worried about how hard it would hit you, actually.

[Malcolm looks up at him, his expression softening.]

Oh.

[He considers the description for a second, then nods acceptance of it.] Okay. [He hefts the clothes he has clutched to his chest with the arm holding them there.] Do you want to get dressed? And... [He looks around Will's shoulder at the mess with a more scrutinizing eye, without quite letting go of him yet.] Tell me exactly what happened after you walked in the room.

Description first.

[ Mostly so he doesn't have to break the hold Malcolm has on him. ]

I walked in with a canvas- it was a...uh, an attempt at a self-portrait. I walked to where you see the streaks start and I heard a- [ His eyes flutter shut as he attempts to remember. ] It was a pop, like a lightbulb breaking. And I saw the saw about the same time, on that table.

I realized it didn't have a guard, but I didn't have time to react before it was flying out. It ripped through the canvas, at this angle-

[ All right, he pulls back now, finally, and starts pointing with more accuracy where all it reached. ]

-and hit me, here. I think? I know it got through on the front side, bit into the bone, and swung into the chest. I fell down and lost consciousness- that was the shock, probably.

When I woke up, Sebastian was there. I hadn't bled much. I sort of slurred my way through asking him to remove the blade. He was skeptical but did it anyway. And it started healing immediately, from the interior out.

[Malcolm nods.] It wouldn’t heal with a foreign object lodged in it. Good thing someone showed up before you bled out. It wouldn’t have done any good if it was a little higher and took off your head. Or a little to the left and penetrated the rib cage to pierce the heart. [Gaius told them the rules; his healing couldn’t prevent instantaneous death. He looks at Will.] …It wrecked your painting?

[ Will rubs at his face and nods at the other possible scenarios, looking away from Malcolm for once. They don't need to get into a 'feedback loop' of Seeing, for lack of a better term. Not when they're talking about various ways Will could've died.

But he looks back up at Malcolm with the last question, and then over to a pile of broken wood and ripped fabric that managed to slide under one of the tables, with all of its momentum. ]

Yeah. It wasn't anything special, just working on a self-portrait. And hands. Although that part wasn't going particularly well...

I do sort of wonder if the healing would've dislodged the object eventually, pushed it out while it was building new tissue. That's not one of the things we tried out while I was testing Gaius' abilities, obviously.

[Malcolm is looking at the shreds and shards of painting when Will suggests his wondering and nods, then looks at him.] Let's not. [Just a suggestion. He glances around the room.] You said you heard a pop that seemed to activate the trap? That could be a short circuit. Electrical arcing can make that sound. If he set up a short circuit on purpose that could explain how it overrode the safety.... but how did your presence activate it? Motion detector? Is that too high tech? Trip wire? [He's looking around more actively now. He got Will's injuries out of his system and now he's Investigating.]

[ Will actually grins and nods his head when Malcolm says that maybe they should not test more wounding out. But he regains his focus when Malcolm moves onto possibilities. ]

Trip wire, maybe, if it was lightly triggered. I didn't notice myself tripping on anything as I walked in. Maybe a motion detector, but I doubt it. If he set it up just as I was arriving, maybe he slipped out and let gravity or a timer do some of the work....but that'd have to be really expert timing.

[ He'll let Malcolm look around the door for a wire, to give him some time to do his own thing. Will moves backward, deciding to quickly change his clothes. Yes, here. Why not? His current set is starting to get tacky and annoying and there's no one else around. -of course, his attention keeps moving back to Malcolm- he doesn't get to see him do this all that often, after all. ]

You said there was a desperation in it. [Malcolm crouches down to examine the door frame. He picks up a now loose strand of clear monofilament, holding it up for Will to see before dropping it.] Light pressure, like you said. Low enough that you probably stepped on it, rather than tugging on it. It wasn’t his first time building a trap. [He moves to examine the machine, lingering just a moment as he passes Will to give him a soft kiss.] He knew enough to know what had to be done to disable the safety, to remove the guard, to put something between the wires that could be yanked out by the trip wire that would then allow live wires to touch and arc and activate the saw. Probably a little piece of wood or rubber. [Malcolm looks over at Will.] Even in desperation, it was calculated. Cunning.

[ Will squints his eyes and hustles over, to get a closer look at that strand. Of course it was a trip wire. And it was clearly expertly tied. He thinks that someone must've been extremely experienced with this, just as Malcolm goes over the details.

The kiss is nice, though. He does let himself slow down just a bit to enjoy it. ]

That feels right. It was someone experienced. They've done- maybe not this set up, but something like it before, many times.

Okay, so- barring this being someone entirely new- [ Which is unfortunately a very real possibility- ] -we should be able to come up with a suspect list. I doubt any wardens would be responsible. None of them would be this desperate. They could ask the Admiral for help.

It’s someone very comfortable with killing, but it’s more than comfort. They get something out of it. They… derive a benefit that they particularly needed right now. Enough that they didn’t need to see you die; they just needed it to happen.

He could've been startled by Sebastian's arrival, but- I do think you're right. The priority was that it happened.

[ He's silent for a moment and finds himself diving into the scene again, intent on finding what he's missing. The setup is measured, but the thoughts behind it are frantic. He needs it back. This isn't the way it's supposed to be.

By the time the trip wire is set up, he leaves the greenhouse in disgust. Sure, he'll hear the saw when it goes off but it's not right.

Will is in actuality standing still, eyes unfocused until he murmurs: ] It's gone, it's gone.

[ His own words startle him, and he coughs as he comes back to himself. He immediately reaches up to rub his eyes. ]

Damn it, sorry.

[Malcolm actually stays still when Will stills, watching and listening intently. He shakes his head at the apology. Not necessary.]

The killer is missing something he thinks death will fill? Can you tell what?

Uh...

[ He starts pacing back and forth in a small, five-foot space. He automatically avoids stepping on the blood, as if it wasn't his to begin with. ]

He had it before, something that made the deaths beautiful. More important than life, than anything. A- a...an obsessive fixation.

[ The pacing doesn't do it. He's full of electric energy and he can feel his hands starting to twitch. ]

I...should get out of here. I think.

[Malcolm doesn’t argue at all. He holds out his hand.] Let’s go to my cabin.

[ Will takes Malcolm's hand and squeezes it tight. And- well, he'd intended to clean up, but he's certainly not thinking about that now as they leave the gazebo.

They're halfway to Malcolm's place when he speaks again. ]

That's the part I have a hard time with. I can't- couldn't disconnect my panic from the killer's. I- thank you.

[Malcolm, still clutching his hand, is otherwise quiet until Will breaks the silence. He knows Will needs to decompress his mind when these things dig too deeply into him, so he tries to follow the cues given. When Will does speak, Malcolm looks at him and answers both plainly and earnestly.]

You always matter more to me than any answers.

[ Even though he knows this- he's even mostly internalized it- the plain statement strikes him as hard as a stay bullet. His face twitches, ending in a surprised grimace. He has realized maybe not all the panic was the killer's. A couple tears leak out of his eyes and he wipes at them with his free hand. ]

I do.

I love you, Malcolm. So much.

[Malcolm stops walking so he can turn and hug him fiercely, holding him tight. His voice is a little muffled when he speaks because he doesn’t lift his head from where his face is pressed to the crook of Will’s neck.

I love you, too.

[ Will is happy for the hug and wraps his arms around Malcolm. His fingers curl around Malcolm's shoulders and he finally feels himself settling down properly. He lets out a small hum of appreciation and just lets them both warm each other.

He does finally pull away (not too far, although he does want to get back to the cabin), but not before giving Malcolm a slow and contented kiss. ]

Would you mind if I was a wolf for awhile after we get back? That always clears my head.

[Kisses are the best, he's pretty sure. He smiles in its wake.]

I never mind that. Do you want wolf company or man company? [Wolf snuggles or scritches?]

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