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[ There's a moment, when Malcolm mentions what Martin said, that Will's face twists into sheer, murderous rage. If Martin appeared in front of him right now, Will would snap his neck with no preamble.

Luckily, he's not. And this isn't what Malcolm needs right now, either. Will squeezes his hand into a fist and takes a deep, slow breath. ]

That's so...uniquely cruel to you, Malcolm. I'm sorry.

[ Another couple of evening breaths and Will finally sounds like he's not going to growl out the rest of the conversation. ]

I believe you didn't notice it with Walter because of how it was implemented. He's focused on hitting your weaker points.

[Malcolm looks disappointed, more than anything. He'd made the gesture of being very open with Walter. He'd hoped trust would be reciprocated, not abused.]

On purpose?

I suspect so.

[ Will opens his mouth, but closes it before he says anything else. He sighs. ]

He is scared on some level, I think. Maybe he thinks that justifies what he's doing.

I do believe he's scared. I think that much is true. But not of what he says he's scared of. Maybe... he's scared of being forced to face himself. To... examine his problematic behaviors and work on them.

[He looks up at Will, then gets up to face him properly, slipping his arms around his waist.]

Thank you. For... seeing this. I couldn't.... I mean... it didn't feel right but... I couldn't see it. [He gives Will a tender kiss.] You know... you make me feel sane.

[ Will hums in agreement with Malcolm's assessment. Of course, it'll likely be a lot of work to untangle that from everything else Walter's been digging up as a problem. But that's what they're here for.

He hugs Malcolm back, holding onto shoulders with a fierce, possessive grip. It's the kind of grip most people wouldn't care for. He keeps the kiss gentle and tender, only pulling back when Malcolm does. ]

I'm glad. Because you are. And you- you bring me into focus. Not just...a version I want to be. All my seemingly dissonant desires, you make them sing in harmony.

[ He kisses Malcolm again, practically unable to help himself. ]

Sometimes it's tough to see when you're the focus of the storm. Even when that's what you're good at. I know that better than anyone.

[Malcolm enjoys that grip. He likes the fact that Will wants to hold on to him as badly as he wants to hold on to Will. He's not accustomed to that going both ways.]

I think it'll help me formulate how to proceed. It's... perspective that I needed.

[Malcolm showed him the piece of paper, not the envelope carefully made with scavenged cello-tape, the tiniest bit of residue transferred onto the letter proper. It was kept on that little shelf for days, the K-pods on higher rungs shuffled to keep it hidden, never once directly touched. Because what better way to connect with someone you can't reach any other way than by a letter? Walter tried showing Malcolm. He tried telling Malcolm. He tried to let the guy get across whatever point he was making by not reading the file. Now he's just waiting for Malcolm and hoping this will fix things, not bring another wave of unbelievably vitriolic anger down on his head. He can't blame the slightly younger man for being better suited to proving his worth through puzzles than anything else. The lines in black and white, all the proper nouns and numbers crisply formed, it's far easier to understand than these unbelievably unwieldy audio feeds...

Besides, he'd thought Malcolm would understand better than anyone that it would be much crueler were the trail of clues to his crimes written in red.]

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