TRAUMABEANS AU

[conning]

boop

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[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.

[abrightboy]

When they reach New York, Malcolm directs the driver to Neal’s apartment. It’s late in the evening. He’s sure that Neal will want to go to Ellen tonight or first thing in the morning.

“If you want to call her, I can unload the bags and bring them upstairs.”

[conning]

Neal nods, immediately pulling out his phone. Ellen isn’t happy to find out he’s back in the city, even if she isn’t surprised.

Neal convinces her to let them come over tonight, knowing full well he’s not going to be able to sleep. It occurs to him too late that Malcolm might be tired, but…

Neal shakes his head, ignoring his own pause. No, he wants to talk to Ellen tonight.

“Okay. Yeah. We’ll see you soon.”

He looks over at Malcolm as he brings the bags into the apartment, meeting him by the bed and pulling Malcolm into his arms. “Up for one more car ride? Well, two. There and back.”

[abrightboy]

“To Ellen’s?” Malcolm confirms. He nods. “Is it far?”

It doesn’t matter; Malcolm doesn’t sleep much. He’s just excited to meet her.

[conning]

“Brooklyn,” he says, and it’s hard to tell if the apology in his voice is for another hour to go thirteen miles, or if it’s because they’re going to Brooklyn.

[abrightboy]

“Better get going, then,” Malcolm tells him, giving him a gentle kiss before ushering him out the door and back to the car.

[conning]

Neal is practically vibrating by the time they pull onto Ellen’s block. It’s a nondescriptly pleasant neighborhood, narrow brick townhouses tucked in next to each other like old books jammed on a library shelf.

Ellen opens her door as they get out of their cab, smiling warmly at Neal, and then looking Malcolm over with interest. She waves them inside from the top of the steps. “Well, come in. I put the kettle on.”

[abrightboy]

Malcolm gives her a respectful nod, looking around with interest as they walk inside.

“Have you lived here long?”

[conning]

The space is tidy, generic, the only real personalizations the books and the numerous plants. The books are a mix of romance and true crime. The plants are riotously colorful.

"About two months," she says, smiling ironically. "They moved me after Neal came to see me on Roosevelt Island."

Neal starts to apologize and she rests a hand on his shoulder, giving him a little squeeze. "It was worth it."