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abrightboy

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From:

falkeditupagain

He has to wonder if he kept it in his own room if it would just pop back here anyways once he left. It would be more safe, responsible to leave it in the office he supposed.

"I think I just might, better to leave it somewhere that wouldn't get a fresh slate if someone disappeared."

He pulls out his communicator, picking one of the lockers and takes a picture of it before shutting it, locking it and offering the key to Malcolm. When he goes to take it he'll pull it back just before he takes it, "Before I give this to you, I wanted to say something. You wearing your listening shoes?"

From:

abrightboy

When Hanna holds the key out and then pulls it back just when Malcolm goes to take it, for a split second, Malcolm thinks Hanna is screwing with him and maybe came here to screw with him. But then... that question.

"...Listening... shoes?" he asks.

From:

falkeditupagain

"Pants, hat, goggles, what ever. It doesn't matter. Just wanted your full attention." And while Hanna might do that, he wouldn't do it to be mean. Screwing with people was supposed to be at the very least low-key funny for both people, which was why he'd been frustrated with Arthur for not saying anything when he'd not been okay with his little trap prank.

"Do I have it?"

From:

abrightboy

"...Yes."

From:

falkeditupagain

He nods, good enough for him.

"You and Sheehan, you've both got a background in psychology, and while neither of you usually bother me that much, that can, if and when you decide to pull out the psych card." He doesn't like the idea that someone is looking at him and his behavior and dissecting it to discover what the hell is wrong with him. "I was straight with him, that if he wanted to puzzle my shit out, that isn't what friends do and he can fuck right off, but I never said anything about it to you. So, I'm saying it now, and I forgive you, for being forward as fuck in the library last week. It was a shit thing to say, and if I didn't know I would miss, I would have tried to punch you again, but I accept your apology, cause I can tell you meant it."

He holds the key out to Malcolm, looking up at him rather than at anywhere his hands are, clear that he won't pull it away this time, "I had a social worker assigned to fix my bullshit for a little over a year, I hated it and it wasn't helpful at all. She thought I was fucking crazy, so I'd appreciate it if we stayed friends, and you can at least keep the analyzing to yourself. I'm not the thought police, just not to my face. We clear?"

From:

abrightboy

Malcolm looks at the key warily for a second. “Okay.” He moves to take the key, pauses and, when it’s still there, takes it.

“Want a coffee or something?”

From:

falkeditupagain

He wouldn't do that to you twice, Malcolm, he was just making sure he had your attention.

The question throws him a little off guard, and he snorts, nodding, "Sure. I'll take a coffee. Thank you."

And, because he would like to give Malcolm a little more advice, he adds, "I don't fault friends for being curious, by the way. You can ask me questions, just...don't start talking about my random abandonment issues as if you were reading out of a text book." And yes, Malcolm, he knows they aren't random, but still.

From:

abrightboy

Malcolm starts to step away to get the coffee, stopping when Hanna clarifies, turning the key around in his hands.

“It’s a hard line for me to parse. So… if there’s no room for error, I’m going to… be cautious,” he explains with plain honesty. “Cream and sugar?”

From:

falkeditupagain

"You're allowed to make mistakes, Malcolm." He sure does, a lot. If he wasn't, man. He'd be in trouble.

"I'll tell you when you've crossed the line, just might not be so nice about it. Dunno if you noticed, but I get defensive and dickish real fast if I don't like where the conversation is going." Well, if it's going places he's not comfortable with anyways, and that is a narrow gap with a wide range of shit on either side. "Both, doesn't need much. I'll drink it black if I have to, but it isn't as good."

From:

abrightboy

That’s promising. At least until it gets too exhausting, as Jedao pointed out when he friend-dumped Malcolm a couple months ago. He manages a slightly unsteady smile, then disappears, returning a few moments later with two mugs of coffee, one black and one creamy. He hands the creamy one to Hanna.

He opens his mouth, then closes it, then asks “Who made you go to the social worker?”

From:

falkeditupagain

Unfortunately for Hanna and his lack of boundaries and overwhelming empathy, he gives chances like he's handing out candy at a parade. It's hard to get him to leave once you've got him hanging around, returning even if you don't want him to like a bad penny.

Hanna takes the offered cup when he comes back, blowing on it and taking a careful sip before glancing up at Malcolm. Well, that's definitely better. "The state. I was in one of those facilities they put you when they don't have a foster ready, never got one either. I stayed there until I was able to apply for legal emancipation when I turned seventeen. I think when I did they were happy about it cause I wasn't their problem any more. Never really followed up afterwards."

From:

abrightboy

"You weren't... their problem. You were their responsibility," Malcolm tells him.

From:

falkeditupagain

"Same difference. I couldn't be placed anywhere cause I wouldn't shut up about ghosts, I sounded crazy. I'm sure it wasn't fun, working with me and I was a problem when no one knew if the brand of crazy they thought I had was violent or not, especially with the investigation going at the speed of slow."

Hard to trust that the kid who talks crazy wasn't going to try and stab people like he might have stabbed his parents and himself when everyone and their mother knows that his prints along with someone elses were on that murder weapon.

From:

abrightboy

"It still just... doesn't seem right to assume a kid is violent just because he has what they assumed were hallucinations. You needed support, not... judgement," Malcolm points out.

From:

falkeditupagain

Hanna pauses in the motion to take another sip of his coffee. Glancing to the side, he sets it down next to what looks like an incense tray, "Okay, so you've work on fucked up cases, right? If there is a survivor at the scene and their prints are all over the murder weapon, you don't rule them out until its case closed, right? No matter how old they are."

From:

abrightboy

"That depends. Sometimes it's obvious it's not the person whose fngerprints are all over the weapon. Sometimes they pulled the weapon out of the victim in a panic, for example," Malcolm points out.

From:

falkeditupagain

"Yeah, well sometimes they rip themselves open with it from their collar down to their hip."

From:

abrightboy

"Ripping oneself open isn't murder," Malcolm points out.

From:

falkeditupagain

"Oh sure, but it didn't win me any points towards people not worrying that I was the violent kind of crazy." And his attitude hadn't helped either. He'd been rather angry. A lot. Because no one believed him.

"Anyways, that's...that's why I had a social worker, and then I didn't. Fun story." He'll pick his coffee back up and take a long drink from it. "Any more questions rattling around in your little head?"

From:

abrightboy

"So you can see ghosts because you had a near death experience?" Malcolm clarifies.

From:

falkeditupagain

"Uh...naw. I've seen things most of my life, just never really interacted with them. Anyone can see the paranormal, they just don't choose to usually. Honestly it's more safe that way. You dont want the paranormal to look at you closely either." At least where he comes from.

From:

abrightboy

"Why did you cut yourself open?" Malcolm asks curiously.

From:

falkeditupagain

Hanna is quiet a moment. He'd told a few people recently, more than he ever thought would know, had given that part of his file back to Taylor. It didn't feel better, in fact sometimes he questioned if he should have at all, but every day that passes that it doesn't bite him in the ass, he can relax just a smidgen more.

"I tried not to. But I wasn't exactly guiding my hands at that moment."

From:

abrightboy

"...You were possessed?" Malcolm asks.

From:

falkeditupagain

He gives a little nod, another sip of coffee.

"Bingo. You win a prize." He is curious though, glancing up at him, "that shit real where you come from, Malcolm."