Malcolm - Interlude (Patreon)

“He’s not here.”

Malcolm stood among the burnt out remains of a button factory he had not stepped inside since his youth.  The walls were intact, a small miracle really, but the old machines were nothing more than ash and various thimbles and little coin sized paraphernalia, littered the charred floor.  Malcolm looked up at Feebus, watching the bigger man sort through the wreckage, muttering to himself.

“I know,” he told him softly.  “I actually came to see if I could help you with any of this.” Walking across the room his footfalls crunched the rubble beneath. Belladonna had done a number on this place and others. Burning old haunts that Milo loved in hopes of flushing him out.

Feebus paused as he looked over his shoulder, eyes tracing the form of what should have been a dead man.  “Still cleaning up his messes, I see.”

Malcolm shrugged. “Could look at it that way.”

“There another way I should be looking at it?” he asked.

“Just thought you might need the help, Feebus.  You’re important to Milo and I know he’d want me here.”

Feebus scoffed. “Then he should be back here in the market putting a stop to all this. I didn’t teach that boy to run.” It was a funny sentiment really.  Malcolm didn’t know if Milo was running or if he was playing it smart.

“He steps into the market proper and he’s as good as dead,” Malcolm reasoned. “You and I both know that.  If he has any chance of survival, he’s going to need to keep low for a bit.  Belladonna will calm.”

“And in the meantime, anyone that is in her path just has an unfortunate day?”

Malcolm grimaced. “I never said I had all the answers to that. And for now, I’m trying not to get in her way.”  Walking over to him, Malcolm crouched down. There was nothing salvageable in the pile Feebus was rummaging through.  Nostalgia was a potent anchor, though.  “What can I do?”

“Get him home,” Feebus growled, tossing what looked like the metal head of a machine, straight to the ground. It thunked loudly, cracking the thin wood floor.  Turning to Malcolm, Feebus shook his head.  “Do you know where he’s hiding?”

“No.” Arguably, Malcolm probably knew all of Milo’s old haunts the best. Which meant, Milo was going to be avoiding them. Hiding out in places Malcolm hadn’t been alive to see, or creating new safe spaces while he figured his shit out.  “I’m sure he’s making his rounds but right now, he’s a few steps ahead of me.”

“So you are going to drag him back.”

“When it’s safe. I’ll figure out what actually happened and then I’ll make a decision on what to do next.”

There was confusion that crossed the bigger man's face.  Malcolm didn’t know if the two of them had ever even shared this many words.  “You don’t know what actually happened that night?”

“The only two people I assume know the truth to that night, is a man on the run and someone who I had to put in the ground last week. And even then I wonder how much they actually knew or if they were a pawn for someone else.”

There were things not adding up.  From the moment Malcolm had stepped back into the land of the living and Milo’s coiled ball of events began to unravel, Malcolm had been seeing the flaws.  Milo had always been someone that approached his problems alone but not to this extent. Not to a detriment.  That, and when Milo learned to care for someone, he would move the world to keep them safe.  With how that night went down, Malcolm knew there had to be something more. He just wasn’t sure what but it reeked of a desperation that he was unfamiliar with.

“A pawn,” Feebus said, interrupting his thoughts. “I’m not excusing Milo for whatever the fuck it is he has done but from what I understand, Taliesin Hynsin disappeared that night.”

“The Baron?”

“The one running the ball that Milo invited everyone to.  Couple of my spies said that he was in the garden with Milo and your friend right before it went down.  They can’t seem to remember where he went from there.  Leaving me to believe either they didn’t see it, or his vampire enforcer is making her wishes known.”

“You believe whoever this enforcer is has scared them into silence?”

“Carmella Malavia.  She has a knack of making people believe they saw something entirely different than they did. Psychics can do that to you.”

Malcolm filed the information away.  He should have been there that night. There were so many moving pieces and they were all ones he was slowly coming to understand through the eyes of everyone else. If he had just been there, Malcolm didn’t think any of this would have happened. He wouldn’t have let Lamplight out of his sight and he certainly would have seen through Milo’s bullshit almost immediately.

“Feebus, I know you and I have never gotten along but I need to know everything you do.  I’m in the midst of ten years of catching up and then Milo goes and just lights a bomb.”

“First off, it’s not that I never got along with you, boy,” Feebus said. “It’s that I think you and Milo were bad for each other.  That could have been on you, that could have been on him, but the two of you were little disasters that liked to bash each other's hearts against the wall. And secondly, Milo did light a bomb. He really did. Doesn’t mean you got to douse its flame for him.  He’s made his bed and might not be deserving of a friend right now.”

Malcolm raised his brow at him. “You practically raised him and you’re going to speak of him like that?”

“I’m disappointed that he decided to do something so stupid without coming to any of us for help. He’s done it before, Malcolm, but this time, I think he may have gone too far.”

“We don’t even have a clear picture of what he’s done,” Malcolm reasoned.

“The lights are out all over the market. The walls are moving and districts are disappearing.  You said it yourself, you had to bury a friend.”

“He’s killed before.”  The blood that stained both their hands was nothing to be proud of.

“Bad people. He’s killed bad and questionable people before. Not like this.”  Feebus leaned in close.  “I know you’ve always had a way of protecting him. And he’s done similar for you.  But it might be high time to let him fall without catching him.”

He remembered the way Milo fell against him after the ball. How he had shook.  That was not the actions of a man who was happy with what he had done. “With all due respect? That’s exactly what he wants.  And if the rest of the world chooses to believe the worst in him, I’m not going to join them.  Not until I have all the information. Not until I hear from his own lips what went down that night.”

“And what about your friend?”

Lamplight.  Oh, how Malcolm wished their glow was within the streets.  More than anything, he wished he could speak to them. Confide in their soft light and feel that warmth.  One day.  Malcolm knew they would return.  He only hoped he could provide answers and a comfortable world for them to return to.

“My friend will need to explain to me their part in all this as well.”

“And if they want Milo dead?”  The words were said without the bitter harshness Malcolm knew Feebus wanted to be there.  Despite what had transpired, Feebus was still holding out hope that he would see Milo again one day. If only for a moment.

“Then they are not the person I have come to know them to be.”

Feebus looked confused. “You’ve only been back for a few weeks.”

“I’ve known them a lot longer,” he said. “Now. How can I help? Because if Milo even knew about any of this, you know he’d be here, risking Belladonna’s wrath. So, I’m going to take a wild guess and say he’s skipped town entirely for a bit.”

Feebus rolled his eyes. “You came here with the intent to see if I was actually hiding him.”

“I did.”

Shaking his head, he gestured to a broom and dust pan. “Start sweepin’. This place was due for a makeover anyway so I guess Bella did me a favor.  Going to change it into something else.”

“A halfway house wouldn’t be a bad idea,” Malcolm said.

“Yeah. We’ll see. Don’t know if I’ll be adopting anyone any time soon.”

“For the record, I thought you were a good father to him.  Even if he didn’t always like what you had to say.”

“For the record, I thought you two were good when you actually could both pull your heads out of your ass.  Which wasn’t often.”

“No, it was not.”

Standing, Malcolm grabbed the broom and began cleaning the small little hovel that Milo had spent hours in as a child.  The one place he had admitted in the dark, that actually saved him.  Out of the corner of his eyes, he watched the man that had tried his damnedest to set Milo on the straight and narrow.

And for the life of him, Malcolm just couldn’t understand how they had all gotten to this point.

“Button,” he whispered. “Where are you?” But, there was no answer.