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[conning]

"It's Caffrey. Remember the value of plausible deniability. I'll get back to you."

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[conning]

“I didn’t say it was bad.” That comes out a little more coldly than intended, trying to hide the hurt behind it.

Neal gets up, leaving his tea to walk to the edge of his veranda and look out at the painted city. Normally he loves this, seeing New York rendered by an artist’s brush, taxis leaving smudges of paint behind as they turn down narrow streets. Right now he just wishes it was really New York.

[abrightboy]

“No. You didn’t. You look really pleased for me,” Malcolm says flatly.

[conning]

“Oh, fuck you.” Neal turns and glares at him. “Did you come here because you wanted my opinion and care what I have to say or did you come here so I’d validate a choice you’ve already made?”

[abrightboy]

Malcolm physically flinches at the ‘fuck you’. He’s still helplessly clutching the mug of tea as it goes cold.

“I thought you’d understand what it feels like to be invited in when you’ve always been kept out,” he says quietly, looking into the cup so Neal can’t see the glassy sheen to his eyes now.

[conning]

“I definitely know what it feels like to be left behind when someone you love gets the invitation.”

He turns back to the view, crossing his arms on top of a dip in the wall and resting his chin on them.

[abrightboy]

“Nobody ever mentions that part of being given something, I guess. Guilt. Jealousy. Strain.” He puts the cup down on the table and it clatters a little because his hand is shaking. “I’m not leaving, whether I go through with it or not. So.” He crosses his arms so he can tuck his hands tightly under his elbows. “I’ll be… here somewhere. If you…” he stops. Takes a shaky breath, closing his eyes for just a second while he tries to control it. “I have to go. Thank you for the tea.”

He heads into the apartment, towards the door.

[conning]

Neal tenses. Almost lets Malcolm walk away, but something small and angry in his gut won’t let it happen.

He turns on his heel, strides past Malcolm and yanks the veranda door shut before he can go inside. “Answer my question.”

[abrightboy]

“What question?” Malcolm asks.

[conning]

“Do you care about what I think or did you want me to say you should go for it?”

[abrightboy]

“I care what you think but all your questions are angry,” Malcolm says. “I haven’t decided yet. I have… misgivings. I just… expected a collaboration not… a bombardment of negativity.” He looks up. “Okay?”

[conning]

Neal stares at him a moment, genuinely baffled and intensely frustrated at the same time.

“Malcolm. I have no idea what this means for you beyond a dramatic and permanent physiological change and possibly a mental one too. I’m worried and I’m trying to address those worries with information. How am I supposed to do that if I don’t ask about what might go wrong and how thoroughly you’ve considered it yourself?”

[abrightboy]

“The physical change is why I’ve held off, like with the healing. There aren’t mental changes. There are… sensory changes that come with the transformation. And some… heightened emotions he talked about but when I said I was concerned about that, he said he’d help me learn how to handle that,” Malcolm says quietly, looking at a spot on Neal’s shirt rather than his face.

[conning]

“It’s all one system, remember? That’s what you told me. You change your body, you will be changing your mind.”

His tone is at least quieter now, not angry or forceful. “Come back and sit down and tell me what you want me to say. How you want to talk about this instead. Because right now what I see is someone I care about being offered something desperately important by someone whose motives I don’t trust.”

[abrightboy]

Malcolm, about to turn around to go sit, looks up at him with suddenly piqued curiosity.

"Why don't you trust him? He's been nothing but good to me."

But it's not an accusation; he's genuinely asking.

[conning]

“My first exposure to Lark was being indirectly told he wanted to murder an inmate. Yeah, it was during a flood, and yes, I know why he wanted to, but it’s hard to change that kind of first impression.”

He looks away. “And then he replied to the post I made about what Dorian said to me and it didn’t feel like he cared one bit. The only thing that seemed to matter was being smug that Dorian publicly screwed up.”

[abrightboy]

"Before the... murder controversy, he did get to me fast enough to save my life. He already considers me one of his pack. That's why he wanted retribution. If I was more... cogent, I would have told him I didn't want that, like I told Will. But I didn't know until after. I think they sent Iris to stop him."

He moves to the little seating area and sits, fidgeting at his abandoned tea cup.

"I would have stopped Kikimora, too. I'm going to teach her other ways to manage her anger. I already started to before she became my inmate."

[conning]

“That. There’s another reason. He already considered you pack, and the way he responded when you got hurt—it makes me wonder how much people matter when they’re not part of that circle.”

He shrugs, sitting down opposite Malcolm to stare at his own tea. “He’s been good to you. I can’t contest that. Like I said, I barely know anything about him. But this is a big change. It’s a… a permanent investment of your future into someone you’ve known for a handful of months. And what you said to me is true, no matter what he might say about it not impacting you mind. You will be changing yourself, fundamentally, significantly, and permanently. While part of a liminal space you don’t intend to stay on board forever.”

He leans back in his chair. “You haven’t really answered my question about why you want it so badly.”

[abrightboy]

"I did," Malcolm tells him softly. "Nobody ever invited me in before. Nobody ever thought I was the one they wanted to be inside. I want to know how that feels. Being chosen."

He looks over.

"When you say it makes you wonder about how much people matter when they're not part of the circle, are you talking about Lark or me?"

[conning]

“Both,” he says, softly. “I chose you. Will did. Raylan. We all have. It’s not as dramatic, the way we did, but it still happened.”

[abrightboy]

"Why can't I have both?" Malcolm asks. "Why can you be important to me and them too?"

[conning]

“You can, and I can still be scared of what it might mean for you. You say you love us and then you say you’ve never been chosen before. How am I supposed to take that?” He closes his eyes, head starting to ache at the temples. “It really sounds like you already know what you want.”

[abrightboy]

"You know that's not what I'm saying, that you being my friend isn't as important or that it's some lower class of connection. I do love you. That's why I'm talking to you about it. I'm not bringing this to people whose opinions don't matter to me. I haven't made up my mind. I'm allowed to be interested in it without being decided. If I didn't find the idea compelling there wouldn't be a need to talk about it; I would have told him no already," Malcolm insists.

[conning]

“I don’t know that,” Neal counters softly. “Never in my life have I had any reason to believe I mattered to someone else as much as they mattered to me except for June and Sarah. And one of them left, because I said she should. I don’t know how to feel about any of this and I can’t turn off the fear that it means I somehow failed to be as valuable as someone who wants to change a piece of who you are.”

He massages the bridge of his nose, then takes a sip of cold tea. “It’s impossible for me to be objective about this. I’m trying, I really am. Why can’t Lark love you the way we do without bringing you into his pack physically? What I’m hearing is that you want to know what it feels like to be chosen. Special. Different. You’re the one who wants the exclusivity of that. It doesn’t feel good.”

[abrightboy]

"But I'll still be me, so why can't you still love me if I try something that isn't an option in my world and isn't even an option for everyone here? Why can't you still love me if I'm me plus something else? It won't change how I feel about you. I know it won't," Malcolm tells him.

[conning]

“I do love you. I will. I still—I can’t just stop being scared. When Will came into your life and I was already in a bad place, I treated you like shit, and you used everything you knew to hurt me. I’m sitting here and feeling more and more like if I don’t approach this without misgivings that you’re going to take it out on me again.” He drags in a slow breath. “I’m scared for you, I’m scared for me, and I’m trying to be honest about that.”