If karma doesn't hit you, I fucking will;

Chris: Hey, how are you?

Chris: Can I come over? I'll bring you whatever food you want.

Malcolm: Bored, tired, you?

⁂

“You’re damn right I heard about it. I would’ve been a bit happier if I had heard it from you though.” Jenna told her son, the slight look of worry remaining on her face as she said so. “No mother ever wants to hear that her kid got shot, after the fact. Then again, no mother ever wants to hear that her kid got shot.” Sure, Jenna wasn’t a warm and fuzzy parent, but nobody could deny that she cared about her kids. 

It was the mention of the Devils that changed the expression on her face, the look of worry turning to something darker. “The fucking Devils.” She practically spat the words, just thinking about the gang her ex had formed made her blood boil. Jenna hadn’t spoken to Garrett since the night he’d been arrested, but she was sure as hell going to be talking to him now. What kind of man let someone shoot his own son. “You aren’t going to be doing shit until that arm is healed, got it?” She didn’t put her foot down often, but this was an instance where she was sure that her son knew better than to fight her.

//

“I know, ma. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I just thought that since I didn’t tell you then you would know that it wasn’t that serious.” Malcolm reasoned though even he knew how weak that argument was. In all honesty, he had been avoiding any member of his blood family the best that he could until he was in the headspace to deal with his mom and sister after having dealt with Garrett. Most of the ire that Malcolm felt towards his dad was completely his own, but there was no doubt that his mother’s equal hatred stoked the flames a bit.

As she spat out the other gang’s name, Malcolm simply nodded in knowing agreement. The Devils were a thorn in the gang’s side as a whole, but they were a particularly painful wound for the Alcotts, and for he and his mother in particular. The mention of his arm and not doing anything had Malcolm suppressing an eye roll though an exasperated groan still left him. “You sound like Payton. Ma, I’m going to lose my fucking mind just sitting around not doing shit. There’s information to be found, prospects to train, stashes to stock and fortify.” He reasoned. “You know as well as I do that shit is just gonna keep popping off and since Payton made me his SoA, a lot of that shit is my responsibility.”

//

As the lips of the other were considerately caressed against his flesh, Payton exhaled. Finding an unusual comfort in his grasp, as if the simplistic show of attraction was enough to ease his mind and land him back into reality beside Malcolm. “Getting you to accept a label, is about as easy as tellin’ someone who can’t swim not to sink while in the deep end.” Shaking his head, he let cerulean hues land on the other male, searching his features. As if he was continually waiting for the other shoe to drop, or some unknown force to take away his momentary happiness. Partly because it seemed the unspoken trend of his life, though thankfully, he knew a fight would be put up from both sides if anything of the like ever happened.

“You seen my brother recently?” The eldest Fischer had taken to his bar and other matters as of late, leaving Payton to wonder in silence. Although it was partly on him for not reaching out sooner. “Haven’t seen much of him or Mel recently, maybe that’s a good thing though.” It meant they were safe, and that they didn’t have a reason to be crossing the Vice Presidents mind, which should be a good thing. “You ‘bout done here, darlin’?”

//

“Labels complicate shit that doesn’t need to be complicated.” Malcolm reasoned, knowing it was an argument that Payton would have heard from him many times over the years. He still mostly felt that way, the only difference now was that he was willing to deal with complicated if it made Payton happy and kept what they had between them there. It was worth the fight and potential mess, Malc reminded himself that every time he felt a twinge of fear over the mere idea of losing both his boyfriend and best friend in one fell swoop.

“I saw him yesterday when I stopped by the Ace for a drink. Just talked about me not bleeding on his bar.” Malcolm informed the other man, before shaking head head as Payton explained his distance. “I don’t know, babe. Maybe they’re both trying to lay low with all the shit going on- can’t exactly blame them for that. Shit’s intense lately.” He reasoned, reaching out to sweep his hand down the other man’s arm, offering a bit of reassurance before he was turning back to the closest toolbox and began to toss the tools he had been using back into it. If he knew Payton, and he liked to think that he did, his boyfriend hadn’t just shown up to drop off a coffee and leave. Sure enough, Payton asked if he was done not a moment later and Malcolm didn’t bother suppressing his smug smirk over mentally calling that.

“Why? You need me for something?” Malcolm asked, turning back to look the other man over, obviously having finished up what he was working on or at least was more than ready to leave it for someone else in the shop to finish up. “Does it involve hitting someone? I can still swing with my good arm and I really could use that shit.” He commented, well aware that if he did happen to take a swing at someone, it was likely he would drop his own ass as well when he tore open his GSW.

“You sure about that — maybe we should find out?“ Grace teased as she feigned tossing the beads in his direction, only for a laugh to fall from her lips as she deposited the beads back into her pocket. The nurse herself would never believe in such nonsense, because if there was such a thing as a higher power then how could they have possibly allowed her to go through such trauma at the hands of her mother all those years ago. Faith was for those that had needed something to believe in other than themselves, something the young nurse was not in need of. “Who knew Malcolm Alcott was so damn superstitious.” She returned, amusement tugging at her features as she shook her head. As intriguing as the idea of religious karma was, it was a little late to read into such ideology’s now. “Oh come on, death by piano sounds fairly spectacular if you ask me. Besides isn’t re-gifting the new recycling these days? I don’t know, but I’m sure I’ll find someone that needs it more than I.” She added with a shrug of indifference. 

//

“Whoa, hey! I think that constitutes as a threat!” Malcolm warned, the playful smirk on his lips letting her know that his words weren’t meant to be taken seriously as he raised his free hand and jumped back as if needing to dodge her feint with the rosary. Malcolm wasn’t sure he believed in a god overall, but he figured there was no reason to take any chances, so he relaxed once the blessed beads were carefully put away.

“Superstitious, or smart and cautious?” Malcolm countered with a chuckle before shaking his head at her attempt to make her bad-luck death seem more appealing. “Nah, if I’m going to be taken out then I want it to be while doing something worthwhile, not just walking down the sidewalk.” He reasoned, thinking about the bullet wound he was currently working on getting healed up. “I’m sure you’ll find plenty of religious fuckers looking for some blessings, Grace. Don’t think you got to worry on that too hard.”

        Approaching the bar, Sarah’s eyes couldn’t help but lock onto Malcolm. Hearing his harsh words fly through the building, her hunger to protect her members controlled her actions as she headed his way. “Malcolm,” His name escaped her mouth in a stern, yet gentle tone. “I was just coming to see how you’re doing, but seeing as you just told them off, I’m going to skip that question entirely.” A grin pasted onto her lips, the Krongold mother was quick to order a glass of wine before letting her eyes lock onto the younger man again. “Do you mind if I drink next to you or would you like some space?”

//

It was the sound of his name in Sarah Krongold’s voice that had Malcolm freezing, the harsh words falling from his lips stalling in the older woman’s presence. Pressing his lips together, Malcolm quickly wrestled his temper down before turning to her and meeting her gaze as steadily as he could, trying his best not to look like a sheepish child under her gaze. “You can sit, Mrs. Krongold. Of course I don’t mind.” Malcolm replied quickly, moving the barstool out for her and immediately flagging down one of the bartenders so that they would see just who had shown up and make her order the priority. “I’m doing alright though. Just a simple injury and shit. How’ve you been?”

⁂

Joey knew she deserved all his anger, because she’d done the one thing she’d promised never to do. No matter how good her intentions had been, she knew now that not telling him had been wrong. The pair of them had always been so close because they understood each others damage, and she should’ve thought about that when she started this whole ordeal. Only she hadn’t, she’d been too focused on her own life, on how to keep her image perfect. Knowing she deserved this didn’t stop the tears from threatening to fall as he looked at her in a way she’d never thought possible. A look that really made her feel hated. “Malcolm please-” She knew her voice was shaking, because no matter how strong she tried to be, the girl was weak and broken on the inside. “I know that I shouldn’t have lied to you, but I did what I thought was right.” The brunette wanted to pull her eyes away from his, but she forced herself to keep her gaze on his, hoping that he could see the truth in her eyes now. “I was on drugs, okay? I know that’s not an excuse, but they fuck with your head, make you think things are right when they aren’t-” 

//

It wasn’t that Malcolm liked hurting Joey’s feelings. In fact, he hated seeing the tears well up in her eyes and if anyone else had caused such a thing to happen, he would have happily rearranged their faces for her. However, trust was a delicate thing in his life and he felt he was being lied to more and more those days. He needed to know shit not only for his job, but because his trust issues ran deep and Joey knew that. Though he’d never admit it, Malcolm was hurt, not angry. The only thing he knew to do with emotion like that was to turn it into anger.

“How was that right?” Malcolm asked her flatly, not buying the reasoning and moving to close the door. Her next words had him freezing, his dark eyes finding and locking onto hers. “What the fuck, Jo?” He all but growled. Now he was pissed. Pissed that she would ever get into that shit. Pissed that she would endanger herself. “So what, you some kind of party girl or are you a street junkie? You been snorting or shooting up? Popping pills?” Malcolm asked her, every question sharper than the one before. “What the fuck, Joey?”

//

Patrick chuckled lightly. “Good to know,” he leaned down against the bar, keeping his gaze on the younger male. “Well, try not to bust up anyone’s face, the last thing we need is for you to pop your stitches and bleed out all over my new bar.” He slightly tilted his head to the left before letting out another chuckle, glancing down to look at the surface of the bar. “Her stress levels ain’t perfect but I wouldn’t say she’s been violent in any manner… Also both of my heads are bein’ treated nicely if you needed to know.”

//

“You don’t think the blood will add character? I disagree, man.” Malcolm quipped back, taking a swig from his beer as he listened to the eldest Fischer talk about his wife and baby mama. “Don’t think I needed to know.” He replied, pulling a face before chuckling. “I’m glad she hasn’t taken to kicking your ass for the hell of it, Pat. I heard pregnant women are a nightmare- add that to the list of why I’m never going to contribute to bringing any spawn into this world.” Malc reasoned.

Ben couldn’t help but laugh lightly, “Huh, weird.” He added on to the joke. Hearing that Payton was the one who settled him into a relationship the older male couldn’t help but attempt to hold in a chuckle as he nodded. Truthfully he was happy that the other was in a relationship, someone to take care of him and keep tabs on him, especially with his lunatic of a father roaming around the city. “Well I’m happy for you.” He said with a smile as he took a sip of his drink. 

As the younger male replied, Ben couldn’t help but chuckle with him. “I respect you for that.” He stated after Malcolm confidently explained he wasn’t impressing others, he never assumed he was. Knowing Malcolm over the last few years, first impressions wasn’t something he necessarily prioritized. Not to most people anyway. Ben nodded and raised his glass, “You’re damn right. Having a hot best friend as your partner is the way to go.” He smiled thinking of Emmaline as he said that, he took a larger sip of his drink. Thinking of his best friend, and true love had him reach into his pocket to hope he’ll see a missed notification. Though he wasn’t graced with such luck. 

Wen Malcolm agreed on getting drunk, he’d been focused on his phone that he didn’t really focus on the part about his medication. Benjamin slid the phone back into his pocket before looking up at the bartender. “Two shots of… fuck it surprise us.” He gestured towards the bartender. 

//

Though he would never admit it, Ben’s words meant a lot and Malcolm gave the older man the slightest of smiles and a nod in return. “Thanks, man.” He said simply before simply listening as the other went on to comment about the upsides he had pointed out regarding his relationship with Payton. Payton was good for him, Malcolm knew that as a fact despite how often he feared that it would quickly backslide into something bad for them both as so many relationships seemed to. Malcolm noted the tightening of Ben’s features and the way he gulped down a good portion of his drink before checking his phone. “Shit sucks, man. At least you know she’s safe.” He commented, not knowing what else there was to say on the matter.

Luckily, the conversation shifted to drinking and that was something Malcolm knew what to do with. Even with the knowledge that his medication would bring him to regret it, Malc was more than happy to throw back whatever drinks Ben deigned to order. “That’s gonna be dangerous, man- I’m here for it.” He said with a playful grin.

( special delivery for: @malcalcott​ )

With having checking in on Gabe not too long ago, Bari found herself thinking about how Malcolm was doing. Having a good feeling she would find him at Ignition, she made her way there. Stepping into Carson’s office, she ran her fingers over his empty chair and checked to see if he had any important papers that she needed to bring home. Once she was done with that, she stepped out and found her blue hues landing right on Malcolm. “Malcolm, hi honey,” she greeted with a soft smile. “I was hoping to find you here since I wanted to check in on you. How are you doing?”

//

The sound of his name had Malcolm turning away from the computer in the back of Ignition that was mainly used to look up parts and charges to see Bari Woods approaching him. He quirked up a brow in question, but relaxed as the woman explained that she was just wanting to check in on him. Malcolm had a mother and he loved her dearly, but he had definitely received more soft motherly affection from Bari throughout his life than Jenna. It wasn’t his mom’s style to be gentle or particularly nurturing in any typical way, and he didn’t fault her for that, but he did enjoy Bari’s attention now and again.

“I’m doing alright. Happy to finally be off the couch but I hate this damn sling.” He informed the older woman, eyes dropping to glare at the contraption holding his arm still. “How’d you deal with healing up your leg and shit? I think I really would have lost my mind.”

“Who knows? Maybe it was her last ditch attempt of trying to save your corrupted soul.” Remy’s family were Catholics but, like, in the most laziest way imaginable. They didn’t pray before every meal - or at all, for that matter - and only ever went to church when his mom felt guilty and forced them all to. “Me liking you isn’t a compliment to your charm, trust me. If anything, it just proves the exact opposite.” He continued to sip his drink but made a face as the other hissed in pain beside him. He decided not to comment, but he did roll his eyes. Last thing he needs is for this man to rip through his stitches. “He was hot. An aspiring actor from the Midwest,” He recalls, before letting out a sigh. “A guy with some training shot her and sorta kidnapped her. She won’t tell me all the details, but it appears this guy knew what he was doing.”

“I figure you probably got a point there.” Malcolm conceded, a rarity for him  but what could he say? Pain meds apparently made him more agreeable. He had seen the guys that Remy went for, and while a lot were idiots plain and simple, a lot were bad news just like himself. “God, the midwest? I’m assuming you covered his mouth or some shit when fucking him.” Malcolm said, making a face at the mere thought of the accent the bartended most likely held. As the other man went on to explain Ana’s situation, Malcolm let out a huff of air. Just another layer to the shit pie that they found themselves eating. “I guess I need to text her and see what she can remember about all of that. She didn’t think he was a Devil or what?”

Liam shook his head. “You know what Malcolm. You are right. Every fucking word you said is right. I don’t deserve him. I don’t know why he forgave me. He should fucking hate me.” He said his teeth clenched. “I wake up every fucking day thinking this is the day he is finally going to come to his senses and leave my ass. Because that is the least I deserve for what I did. It is unforgivable and inexcusable. And now the thing I kept him away from for five years, he knows all about it and is in the middle of it and their isn’t a fucking thing I can do about it.” Liams words louder than he meant them to be. “Mistake isn’t the right word then what is Malcom? The worst decision of my life?  The biggest regret that I will ever have.” He tossed back the drink the bartender set down in front of him, the liquid burning his throat as it went down. “I do get it. I do. I can’t fucking change it. I have to live with that for the rest of my life that I did that to two people I love. You can’t possibly hate me more than I hate myself.”

//

Malcolm listened to the other man’s rant for a moment until he turned the question on him, scoffing then rolling his eyes as Liam tossed back his drink. “I’m not adding to your little pity party, man. Hate yourself, I don’t give a fuck. That shit is a cop out. You fix your shit, you work on yourself, because you haven’t done shit to battle whatever the fuck kind of fear made you willing to get your boyfriend beat to keep your secret.” Malcolm said simply. “That isn’t as simple as coming out and you suddenly feeling alright about it all. That depth of shame doesn’t just fade in an instant like that. This guilt and shit you claim to be sitting in is pointless if you’re just sweeping more and more shit under the rug, even to yourself.” He reasoned. 

Malcolm hadn’t had a hard time coming out himself, but he knew plenty of people who had. It was a journey and it was a lot of self-discovery, and neither Liam nor Owen took the time to have that journey without being all about the other. “Support is one thing, but have you even tried to reason with your sexuality outside of Owen? Has he worked through the trauma of getting his ass beat by someone because of you without feeling like he has to make you feel okay about it?” He asked, picking up his beer and quickly finishing it off. He wasn’t there to be Liam’s therapist nor his queer guru and he figured there were places to drink with better company than the Ace right then. “You start actually trying, Liam, and not just to make other people like you again, then we can talk.” Malcolm told him, pushing himself to his feet then.