Voicemail (IC Contact Post) NEW

[abrightboy]

This is Bright. Leave a message.

Comments

[abrightboy]

"I remember what happened. But there's a difference between... between having an argument and... and having a seed of evil in you that flavours it." Malcolm presses his lips together. "I didn't want to hurt you. But I did."

[conning]

"...I did want to hurt you, so how is that better? Malcolm." His name is both lightly amused and gently chiding. A pause, and Neal purses his lips briefly. "Tell me what you remember. About what happened."

[abrightboy]

He frowns faintly. "Um. ...You were mad when you found out I was dating an inmate after I wouldn't go out with you. So then you ignored us in art class and after that you stopped coming to counseling for a bit so I went looking for you and... you didn't want to talk, so I was... I said uncalled for harsh things to get your attention and goad you into arguing with me, because it was... talking to me, unlike ignoring me and avoiding me and... I didn't want you to get a different Warden. But then you came and I got caught up in arguing the argument."

Malcolm looks up at him. "I knew you were hurting. You apologized for what you said. But... I did permanent damage," he says. "There are still things where.... I can tell. That you're keeping a wall between us. Because I broke something that I can't fix."

[conning]

...Okay, Malcolm remembers more than Neal thought. Still. Neal grimaces a little, testing a sip of tea for heat before he takes a proper drink.

"It wasn't your fault. It wasn't wholly your fault, the barrier." He's working on bringing that down, too, since he saw the ring that Will gave Malcolm and heard the reasons for it. Neal's eyebrows knit as he tries to piece it together, tries to find the thread of logic that will let him explain what happened. Why he recoiled so hard for so long.

"I..." He can't. He's not sure. He doesn't know, and it's frustrating. A little bit of that frustration bleeds into his voice, but it's clearly not aimed at Malcolm. "We'd never had a fight like that before. You'd never said anything like that to me before, and I think--I don't know, but I think it was that I couldn't find any new factors other than Will. I was hurt, and jealous, and he was still there. As long as he was there, the potential for you to find reasons to hurt me was there, too. I know that doesn't really make sense. It doesn't."

[abrightboy]

"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."

[conning]

"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."

[abrightboy]

"But I want you to keep me," Malcolm answers plainly.

[conning]

A smile, small and unsteady but real.

"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."

[abrightboy]

“So…” He’s clearly trying to parse and understand rather than judge. “So it’s always a contest? Between you and… everyone?”

[conning]

Neal shrugs a little helplessly. "I don't mean for it to be."

[abrightboy]

“That sounds lonely,” Malcolm admits.

[conning]

"I really don't mean for it to be."

[abrightboy]

"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."

[conning]

Neal has no idea how grateful his own expression is. "I know. It's one of many reasons that I love you."

[abrightboy]

That brings a charmed smile to Malcolm's face.

"I'm never had a friend that let me do that for them."

[conning]

"...Really?" He finds that baffling, personally. "You're really good at chess."

[abrightboy]

“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.”

[conning]

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."

[abrightboy]

"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."