apocalypsehowcomm | Log - OTA! - What’s the difference between a corpse and a shirt?

Who: Everyone.
When: Wednesday evening, Jan 11th
Where: A rented out bar, downtown.
Summary: The wake for George Milton.
Warnings: N/A (will update as needed)

If anyone of the forcibly kidnapped to Gloucester deserved to be remembered, it was George Milton. In many ways, he was the best of them. He had been kind. He had always been willing to help and lend a hand. Unlike some whose first choice was violence (because what else was there), he had chosen to forgo that route and had come up with a much more clever solution. The solution saved lives.

It had not felt right to have a formal service for him. To put it simply, he was not a formal person. And so after much calling around, a bar had been found where they could rent out the entire place before business got too busy. It was just for a couple of hours. People could come and say nice things about George. It's what he deserved after all.

So come on in, have a beer or two, and sit a spell. Maybe you'll feel like sharing a story about George or maybe you're just there to pay your respects. There's a break in the weather, the clouds only filling up half of the nighttime sky. No acid snow for tonight.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Malcolm has never been rude to her before and she is taken aback. She isn't sure how to respond so it's a good thing that he apologizes. Kate might have escalated the situation... might have.

"It has." She agrees slowly. "It's been a lot for everyone but some more than others." She continues meaning Malcolm specifically.

"This might not be the most productive discussion right now," Neal says softly. He's worried about Malcolm too. Deeply. The way he snaps at Kate certainly doesn't assuage the worry, but he can't see this going well given where they are right now. Instead, he asks, "Did George come to this bar? Is that why you picked it?"

“He played poker and darts here sometimes,” Malcolm says quietly. “He invited me sometimes.”

Neal would know how that affected him, someone inviting him to a ‘guys night’ just because he wanted him there. That didn’t happen to Malcolm.

He closes his eyes for a moment, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth.

"That sounds like George." Kate looks at Neal to answer his question. "It was Donna who booked the place. I'm glad it means something to him and he was comfortable here." She keeps most of her attention on Malcolm. Her heart is very sad for him. It's clear that they were really very good friends. She can't imagine what he's going through especially with having found George's body.

"Well done Donna," Neal says softly, making a note to tell the woman as much himself later. They haven't talked much, but he's seen her information-gathering posts.

Neal puts an arm around Malcolm, drawing him closer a little protectively. He does know how much it meant. He couldn't avoid knowing even if he wanted to, with how nervous Malcolm was beforehand and how excited he was after. He presses a kiss against Malcolm's temple. "Maybe we can start up a poker night again."

Malcolm isn't sure how he feels about that. Without George?

"...Maybe," he agrees.

No harm in considering it.

He looks up at Neal. "Can we get a drink?"

Kate looks from Neal to Malcolm and then back to Neal. Malcolm's question about getting a drink is her que to depart. She gets it.

"Well. I'll leave you two gentlemen to get your drinks. Thank you both for coming."

Neal nods to her appreciatively, putting an arm around Malcolm and guiding him over to the bar.

"How're you doing? We can leave if you want to."

Malcolm watches her go as he lets himself be led, then looks up at Neal. "I don't want to leave. I want to be here for George." He falls silent for a moment. "Was I rude to her?"

He kisses Malcolm's temple. "You said as much as you were comfortable saying. She pushed, you pushed back. You didn't do anything wrong."

Malcolm nods and shifts closer to him. "I don't know why this is hitting me so much harder than... everything," he whispers.

"Grief does that," he says softly. He kisses Malcolm's temple. He almost adds so I'm told, some kind of addendum of caveat that makes the statement less personal. Protects him a little from it being revealing. But he stops himself. This is Malcolm. "It hits in ways you don't expect at times you don't expect and with force you can't predict."

"What if.... what if it's you next time?" Malcolm whispers.

Goosebumps prickle across his neck. “I’m not leaving you,” he murmurs, “not willingly, not ever.”

"I'm having a hard time with this. I miss him and... he didn't deserve that. But. I keep thinking about how... I. I can't do this without you anymore," Malcolm confesses.

Neal wraps his arms around Malcolm and holds him tight. "Which part? Being here? Here, in Gloucester? This version of the world?"

“Living.”

There it is out there now. Like the word is a tangible thing and he’s staring at where he set it down.

Goosebumps and chills roll through Neal in consecutive waves, as the layers of that word and its context hit. He draws Malcolm over to a quiet corner and hugs him, tight, lips pressed against his cheek and then close to his ear.

"Malcolm Bright," Neal whispers, tense with emotion, voice still gentle. "No matter what happens to me, the world needs you in it. It's a better place that way. And no matter what happens to me, if you love me, you won't make me the reason you leave."

He nods tightly.

He does love him. So much his heart could burst.

“George wouldn’t want that either,” he admits to Neal’s shoulder.

Neal relaxes a little. Just a little. "Living is one of the favors we do for the dead."

"It feels like a lot right now," Malcolm admits.

"There are times when it is," Neal admits, which is something he's never said to... well, anyone.

"It's been a long time since I took a loss this hard," Malcolm admits, since they're confessing.

"You're allowed," Neal says, and kisses Malcolm's forehead. He could give all the reasons it makes sense, but that's what it comes down to. "Grief comes how it comes."

"I want to go home," Malcolm admits. "But I don't want to..." He gestures around helplessly. "Abandon George."

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conning - 2023-04-11 00:44 (UTC) - Expand

abrightboy - 2023-04-11 00:58 (UTC) - Expand