Neal Caffrey || Log || September/October Catch-All

[conning]

Who: Neal and OTA/some for existing CR
When: September/October Catch-All (with one backdated August thing)
Where: ALL OVER ZE PLACE
Summary: SEPTEMBER/OCTOBER CATCH-ALL. Neal being bovvered by the sleep stuff and rescuing people/needing rescue, Evil Twin TDM prompts, sleepwalking after his murdered adoptive aunt, painting at Bonnie's, a couple of SOL prompts, DEATH BREAAAD both lead-up and hypersensitivity, some talk about mental health.
Warnings: HORROR STUFF.... Awful deaths, possibly drowning, murder of loved ones, gun violence, suicidal ideation, some ableism might crop up in the mental health threads. Toplevels will be labeled with likely subjects.

Prompts TBA below as they're finished! Feel free to PM me or message me at researchboner on plurk for specific prompts or with questions.

Comments

[abrightboy]

Malcolm takes the water, but doesn’t attempt to drink it, pressing the cool surface of the bottle to his forehead as a tear manages to slip down his face.

Neal’s probably here now and he probably wasn’t before - things were wrong, weren’t they? Not just dinner, but he wishes he were certain; he didn’t question any of it in the blindness of his devotion - and he wants to go to him but is also afraid to and he feels so, so alone for basically the first time since he arrived in Gloucester.

It was better than home.

“He was here when I got home,” Malcolm reports shakily, clutching the water to his chest now. “How did he know where you live? How did he get in? How did he know how much food to put on my plate?”

[conning]

“I don’t know,” Neal says, “I don’t know. But there’s so much here we don’t know about.”

Neal reaches out tentatively, touches Malcolm’s cheek, braces himself for another flinch or withdrawal. He got too used to it. He got too used to someone believing him, trusting him, knowing him. “I should’ve been here.”

[abrightboy]

He doesn’t pull away this time, his eyes flutter shut for a second, then open to search Neal’s face.

“If it knows what you know, a code word won’t help,” he points out in a small voice.

[conning]

He closes his eyes, a surge of frustration hitting him, none of it directed at Malcolm. Then he offers the yogurt. “Can you manage a couple of bites of this? It’ll help with the capsaicin in the red pepper.”

He strokes Malcolm’s cheek with his thumb and enlightenment strikes a moment later. He gets up, leaving the yogurt, moving forward enough to kiss Malcolm’s forehead—ignoring the sweat and the way the scent of bile makes his stomach roll. “If it knows what I know, there’s still something it can’t duplicate without some time and effort.”

He goes to their shared room, rummaging through his collection of gathered trinkets to find what he’s looking for. Then he goes back to the bathroom and holds it up for Malcolm to see.

An earring. A very particular earring. The one Malcolm saw him steal the first day they spoke. “I’ll keep it on me. You can ask to see it whenever you need to.”

[abrightboy]

Malcolm stares at it, then puts the yogurt and the water on the ledge of the tub as he wriggles his way out from between the tub and the toilet.

He accidentally knocks the yogurt into the tub and startles at the noise it makes but crawls into Neal’s lap anyway.

[conning]

Neal wraps him up in a tight hug, hanging on, trying not to think about what that person-who-looks-like-him could have done with Malcolm's trust.

"We're going to figure this out. We figure everything out."

[abrightboy]

“What’s a tallow?” Malcolm asks, muffled into his shoulder.

[conning]

"Beef or mutton fat, usually, rendered to specific standards of thickness, consistency, and melting point. It used to be the primary grease used in deep-frying because of its high smoke point, until vegetable oils got popular in the 1980s--doesn't matter. What matters is it's heavy and they knew it would make you sick."

He rubs circles against Malcolm's back.

[abrightboy]

“Oh. I thought it was some kind of animal,” he replies, his voice tired from exertion and still raspy with the burn of stomach acid.

[conning]

He smiles against Malcolm's shoulder, charmed even in this situation. "You don't know if you don't ask."

Malcolm is teaching him that in increments.

[abrightboy]

“I asked but he didn’t tell me. He acted like it was a game. Why didn’t I know that was wrong? You always tell me,” he says, choking a little.

[conning]

"It's not like you could have expected..." Neal shivers. "You didn't have any reason to think something was wrong."

[abrightboy]

“Do you… do you have to go out anymore tonight?” Malcolm asks hesitantly.

[conning]

"No. I can stay. I want to stay." He's not going to go anywhere tomorrow, either, if he can possibly help it. Not without Malcolm anyway.

He has to brace himself a little internally to do it, but he kisses Malcolm on the lips, bile and all.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm, at first, accepts it in relief, but then the taste of his own mouth makes him put a hand on Neal’s chest to stop him.

“I just threw up,” he says in a voice that’s noticeably weak but also rational. “A lot.”

[conning]

"Yeah, but it's not like it's contagious." Neal smiles a little, trying to make it clear that he's joking. More or less. More seriously, he adds, "I love you."

[abrightboy]

Malcolm looks at that spot on his chest.

"I thought you didn't for a minute," he confesses. That was the worst part. "And... that maybe that meant you never did."

[conning]

He puts his own hand over Malcolm's and squeezes his fingers gently. "I've never lied to you about that. I never would."

[abrightboy]

“Do you think it’s an Avatar? A… a shape shifter or something?” Malcolm says, though his throat is tight.

[conning]

“I hope not.” The thought of an avatar taking direct, malicious interest in the two of them makes his skin creep. He presses his lips together. “I’m not a fan of surveillance, but temporary security cameras in the shared spaces might be a good idea.”

[abrightboy]

Malcolm nods before letting himself melt face first back into Neal’s shoulder.

“But stay with me,” he murmurs, muffled by Neal’s shirt. “A little bit. ‘Til I feel better.”

[conning]

“As long as you want.”

He doesn’t leave. He stays all night, only takes the time required to clean himself up from the day and help Malcolm clean up from his own ordeal. He throws out the food and bags the dishes the stranger used and takes them to the ADI the next day.

He waits until he sees someone who looks like him and isn’t him enter the apartment buildings on ADI’s security cameras before he heads back, skin crawling with apprehension. The text he sends Malcolm is just the monster face emoji.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm puts his phone in his pocket after he gets Neal’s text. The creature’s objective with the food stunt was to rupture his affection for Neal, so the tightness around his eyes, in the set of his mouth at the being’s arrival plays into the charade that he doesn’t know it wasn’t Neal.

“You’re home early.”

[conning]

The Other Neal gives Malcolm a once-over that's not unfriendly, precisely, but it's got none of the warmth and affection that Neal tends to carry when he looks at Malcolm. He shrugs. "I thought I'd come back and take a nap while no one was screaming or throwing up. Thought you'd be out."

[abrightboy]

“I did invite you to sleep in one of the other bedrooms last night. Why don’t you try that now?” Malcolm suggests coolly.