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[conning]

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

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[abrightboy]

Malcolm’s expression creases.

“…What do you mean?”

[conning]

He pauses. “Let me rephrase. What makes you want to say yes?”

[abrightboy]

He studies Neal for a second.

“There’s a wrong answer. An answer you’re afraid of. What is it?”

[conning]

God Neal hates it when Malcolm does this to him, and not because he’s wrong.

“There’s an answer that makes me more or less in support of the choice, yes.”

Not by much, but by something.

[abrightboy]

“What is it?” Malcolm asks.

[conning]

“The question is, why do you want this?” Neal doesn’t know what the answer he’s afraid of is. He just knows that there’s fear. A small, crushing loneliness, a self-disappointment he’s trying to ignore.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm’s expression falls a little and he retreats. He was doing the thing he’s not supposed to do.

“Lark wants me to counsel his pack. Plus he says I’ll have sharper senses and be stronger and faster in ways that will make me better at my job. And he says the pack has an unbreakable bond with each other.”

[conning]

Malcolm retreats and Neal does the same, not knowing what he’s done to cause it. Just knowing that somehow he’s given a wrong answer of his own.

“He doesn’t think you can counsel them without being one of them? Do you want that? Is that… where you want to go when you leave?”

[abrightboy]

“I don’t mind helping them out. I’d probably visit, like Lark does. Will and I already have plans for after after,” Malcolm muses.

[conning]

Neal looks away, frowning.

“But what about any of that makes this necessary? Why do you want it? So there are assumptive perks that Lark has shared. Has he said anything about risks or losses?”

[abrightboy]

“Like what?” Malcolm asks.

[conning]

“Like… what will it do to you, physically? In ways that aren’t strength and speed? Mentally? What does he mean when he says ‘unbreakable bond’? How does that play out on a practical, personal autonomy level? Will you change unwillingly once a month? Will you suffer if you’re separated on a permanent basis?”

Neal could keep going, but he’s posed enough questions for one round. His expression pulls into another little frown and he sips his tea. “And how did he ask you about it? What did he say when he brought it up?”

Okay, maybe he had a couple more.

[abrightboy]

“He didn’t say ‘unbreakable bond’, that’s just how I described it. You change when you want to. Will and I are going to travel after this place. We’ll always be able to visit them. And you. And anyone else we want; that’s the appeal of that technology.”

He watches Neal warily.

“Are you mad at me?”

[conning]

“I don’t know how I’m feeling, to be honest.” He owes Malcolm that much truth. “I don’t… like it. I don’t like the idea of what it could mean. I don’t like the unknowns. How was it proposed?”

[abrightboy]

“He asked me a while ago. Told me a bit about it. I told him I wanted to think about it. He said he understood,” Malcolm explains.

[conning]

“But how did he ask? What did he say?” He wants to know how the proposal was framed.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm shrugs. “I don’t know. A lot has happened since then. He appreciates me. Why is that bad?”

[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.