TRAUMABEANS AU

[conning]

boop

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[conning]

"Yes and yes." He looks off into space for a moment, a dreamy little smile on his face. "France would be good, too. I haven't been to France in a long time."

His focus returns to Malcolm and he touches the other man's cheek. "European tour," he says, his tone soft.

[abrightboy]

“As long as you’ll be in charge of finding places to eat,” Malcolm tells him. “So we don’t end up at the French equivalent of an all steak meaterie.”

[conning]

Neal laughs. "I wouldn't let that happen."

His phone goes off then, a ringtone that Malcolm will never have heard before, and Neal frowns. He lets go of Malcolm and digs the phone out of his pocket hastily, almost drops it answering. "Ellen? Is--are you okay?"

It's not a name Neal has said before, either. Not to this Malcolm, not in this world.

He relaxes at the answer, taking Malcolm's hand with his free one. Then he tenses again. "The marshals are moving you? When?"

[abrightboy]

Malcolm watches him with a sort of concerned scrutiny. He wonders who Ellen is. He wonders why Neal is so tense.

[conning]

He listens in silence for a little while, then shakes his head, apparently oblivious to the fact that the person on the other end of the line can't see him.

"No, I'm upstate." He glances at Malcolm, smiles a little. "Yeah, with him. I can be back in a few hours though--okay, but--"

He bites his lip and goes quiet, then nods, then exhales softly. "Okay. I will. I promise. Call me if anything changes."

Another moment of silent listening before he mumbles, "I love you too."

After a second it's clear the other person has hung up. Neal is slower to do the same.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm frowns faintly. "What was that about?" he asks with concern.

[conning]

Neal looks at his phone, then at Malcolm. He bites his lip.

"There's something else I need to tell you. Not about that other place. About when I was a kid, in WITSEC."

[abrightboy]

Malcolm's eyes widen slightly.

"Was... was that your mom?"

[conning]

Neal makes a brokenly amused noise. "No. Yes. Not exactly. That... was my Aunt Ellen."

He doesn't say more until they're back in their room and he has a generous glass of wine.

Then, haltingly, he explains to Malcolm who Ellen is. Who she was. Who she's stayed, even when he was half-way around the world and the marshals didn't know he knew where she was.

[abrightboy]

“If she took care of you, then we need to take care of her. Why would they move her?” Malcolm asks.

[conning]

Neal bites his lip, then drinks more wine than he should. Too fast to enjoy it, too fast to even really taste it.

“It’s my fault. She was safeguarding something for me. The painting that Kramer almost found. I… When I went to Roosevelt Island, before the commutation, when I asked you to get Peter to extend my radius for that afternoon… I went to see her. To get the painting. It’s my fault.”

[abrightboy]

Malcolm looks at him oddly.

“…Your fault how?”

[conning]

Neal gives Malcolm a blank look. “I exposed her. That has to be it.”

[abrightboy]

“If you don’t know how, then what if it’s not?” Malcolm counters. “You don’t know everywhere she goes or everyone she talks to.”

[conning]

He starts to protest, then stops, realizing Malcolm is right.

Somehow that's even more worrying.

"If it wasn't me then... she's at risk somehow. In a more direct way."

[abrightboy]

"We should investigate," Malcolm tells him. "Maybe we can help her."

[conning]

Neal gives Malcolm a tentatively hopeful look. It's easily as worried as it is hopeful. "Maybe. Yeah. I... You won't get in trouble, doing something like that?"

[abrightboy]

“…Trouble?” Malcolm questions. “I don’t understand.”

[conning]

“Would the marshals or the FBI…” Neal makes an airy gesture. “I mean, the stuff with Kramer is still pending.”

[abrightboy]

“I don’t care about Kramer,” Malcolm tells him. “I care about you. And your family.”

[conning]

Neal smiles a little, reaching out to touch Malcolm's face. "I don't want to cut things short here, but... I mean, we can always come back."

[abrightboy]

“We can come back any time we want,” Malcolm tells him with an answering smile. “We’re very rich, you know.”

[conning]

Neal grins at that. “From what I hear, there’s Milton money involved.”

Guilt and worry creep in again. “Would… would you hate it if we got a car back to the city today? Or tomorrow morning, anyway?”

[abrightboy]

"We can go right now," Malcolm tells him. "Start packing. I'll call for a car," he says, taking out his phone.

[conning]

Neal kisses Malcolm warmly, keeping him from making the call for a good thirty seconds at least.

Plus whatever time Malcolm needs to remember how to breathe afterward.