can't catch me now*

Malcolm wasted no time making himself comfortable. The panic he felt prickled under his skin. It felt more like a warning than actual panic, like the smell of rain before a storm. Malcolm didn't want to read too much into the feeling. Hearing about random scenarios like this in the past could have easily allowed his mind to wander to the worst-case scenario. He wasn't going to do that, knowing it wouldn't help their situation at all. "Damn, I knew I shouldn't have let that old lady take the other elevator." He snapped his fingers in front of him, giving an 'aw shucks' kind of movement. "Okay, yeah, the portal seems more fun than maintenance." His brow raised. Malcolm was almost amazed that he had the fae queen's number on speed dial. Dare he say a little jealous as well, but any apprehensions JC had about him were valid given his hunter past. He almost expected Nyra to feel the same way about him. "I'm amazed you still have a great signal in here. Let's hope she picks up or else we'll have to figure something else out."

She shrugged it off with a raised shoulder and a half smile that softens when she looks at him. Some of that humor returns, warm and amused, “Me, whimsical? I always thought that fit you more.”

He let out a fake laugh, really enunciating every 'Ha' with a playful deadpan. "You were always amused when I tried my accents on you." How Stevie managed to put up with him, Malcolm never knew. He was a giant golden retriever to her black cat. As a child, Malcolm was desperate to penetrate the walls Stevie had built around herself. He was often asked by other kids why he wasted so much time on her when she barely offered him the time of day. His answer always remained the same; Stevie had made him feel like himself. The true self that he had locked away to fit into the mold his father had created for him. Now, where easy silence once fell between them, an awkward tension lingered in the air. Even in their younger years, awkwardness had never been a problem. There was no magic spell that could easily mend ten years of hurt and betrayal. However, Malcolm didn't need it. He would do everything in his power to fix what had broken between them. Stevie was the most important person in his life. Whatever capacity she chose to remain in it, he would be grateful.

He nods easily. His smile was as bright as it had always been around her, like the sun itself had walked into the room. Its radiance was only saved for the love of his moon. "I mean, yeah, I fit the bill, but you do too in different ways. I think it's very whimsical naming all your plants."

Life had been quite the whirlwind. Out of all the things that had happened or could happen, being stuck in an elevator was the least of his worries. He wasn't sure how long they would be there, so Malcolm opted to sit on the floor. He had always been the child who elected to sit criss-cross on the ground rather than on a chair. "I needed the in-between floor yesterday. I just need to get to four today." Humor had always been his defense in any situation. "Can she magically teleport us out of here ... or is she just going to call maintenance? Happy with either outcome." He knew the answer but pretended not to.

The gazebo itself was quiet this time of day, but that suited JC just fine. He was thankful for it. After the hubbub of Capture the Flag, spending the blackout cleaning out the Den fridge in the stifling heat, and a duo of Council meetings, he needed space to just exist. And that was what he was trying to do, of course, find a way to exist. It was not going well.

Some part of him foolishly believed if he settled down in the calm and focused his energy, something would happen. Clarity would manifest. Willpower would form. Nothing did, and tugging the headphones from his ears, droning affirmations, JC threw back his head and let the sun wash over his face. It was hot.

Sitting back up, however, Júlio César noticed a familiar face. He stood, tucking his hands into his pockets, and cleared his throat. "Hey, man. I wanted you to know that I...well, I made the Council aware of your background. And it's all good. You're good. That's all. Hope you're hanging in there."

The town green is where Malcolm spent most of his weekends. Whether it be at the library or the rec center. He was naturally someone who couldn't sit still. The energy trapped inside of him needed some sort of escape. His anxieties needed to be channeled in healthy ways. The wolf was just leaving Happy Harvests Farmers Market with more honey for Rhiannon. Not Orange Blossom, as he learned recently, his daughter was allergic to it.

As he headed home, he was stopped by a familiar voice. Malcolm wanted to deny how his heart sank into the pit of his stomach when he saw JC. One of the many anxieties he was trying to manage was the decision the council was going to make. There was no reason for JC to trust him. If he were in the alpha's shoes, he would have reacted the same way. JC was trying to do what was best for the pack. At the end of the day, Malcolm was trying to do what was best for his family.

Malcolm looked at JC wide-eyed with disbelief. He almost dared to ask the alpha to repeat himself. "It is?" Relief washed over him like a tidal wave. He could've cried in that moment, knowing he wouldn't have to leave his daughter, Stevie, or Josie behind again. He steeled those emotions behind a small smile and nodded. "I know ... that everyone has a right to be wary of me even with the council green pass. I promise, I'll do whatever it takes to prove I'm just here to live my life like anyone else." Lunar Cove was his second chance, just as it was for so many. He wasn't going to squander this gift he had been given. "Yeah, I'm doing the best I can. What about you?"

It was odd to navigate the territory they found themselves in now. Never once had Malcolm tried to evade an awkwardness with Stevie. Even when she wouldn't give him the time of day, their banter was simple, easy. Life may have been filled with uncertainty, but as a boy, his feelings for Stevie had always been his north star. The one thing he would always be certain of. It was hard not to feel deflated each time a certain unease crept its way into his heart. Malcolm couldn't just snap his fingers and make everything magically okay. He had to be okay with the consequences of his actions. "Oh, did she? At least it's more enjoyable children's TV. I have ... tuned in from time to time. Secrets safe with me. I'll help her with accents. I'm great at a British one." Years of theatre training had prepared him for this moment of being his daughter's unofficial dialect coach." He kept his usual playful demeanor. Malcolm hoped it would help slip them back to simpler times. "I uh, I didn't know."

Of course, he didn't. How could he know that his daughter was allergic to oranges when he had spent the last ten years away from her? The list of what he didn't know about Rhiannon was longer than what he knew of her. His daughter was time-capsuled in his mind as a baby. It was a shock to his system every time he saw her and was hit with the realization that so much time had passed. So many milestones were missed that he could never get back. His smile faltered, but he kept it up, although he could feel his heart fracturing. Malcolm had to think of the positives, or else he'd spiral. He would never blame Stevie for what she did, but it was his responsibility to pick up the pieces on his end. Rhiannon was back in his life. He could be the father he dreamed of being for ten years. He could never atone for what he missed, but he could be present now. "No, yeah, you're right. Can't go wrong with that. Uh, it's good from what I'm told." He shrugged. "Besides, I think she'd like the idea of eating Wildflower honey." At least, he hoped she did. "She seems to lean more whimsical, like you."

The shrug he made was yet another non-verbal confirmation. Delving into the darkest parts of his psyche wasn't exactly a form of familial bonding. As time went on, he would be happy to open those parts of himself to Lennon, but right now, he was still the strange man who was the father of her sister's daughter. "Here you are, rising before Easter. Leaving the tomb very empty." He chortled. There was nothing he could get past Len. She was sharp as a tack. Granted, Malcolm wasn't exactly an expert liar either. He hadn't had time to rehearse his excuses to perfect them.

By the time Stevie found him, the news of her siblings being alive came just as quickly. It had all been a fast turnaround. Malcolm was getting whiplash from trying to keep up with all the sudden changes happening. "It's a long story," He finally replied with a soft sigh. "One that, if Stevie would like to tell, I'll support her. But you are right about your sister. She would have gone to the ends of the earth for me, and know I did the same. I've spent the last ten years trying to reconnect with her and Rhi. I just ... never thought they would be here of all places."

In some ways, a black cloud still lay over Lunar Cove, a creeping, writhing darkness that revealed itself in the frayed expressions on his neighbors' faces and in the heavy stench of turmoil, still clinging to the air. But nature did not deign notice the troubles of the insignificant creatures flitting about the planet's face. Time moved on.

Spring had planted strong roots by then, warm weather, blue skies, and the chirping of insects, sounds where everywhere else rested silent. Rohan sat now at a table on the green, spreading out a few cards from the tarot deck he'd own even before coming to this town. He looked up when a shadow fell across him. "Hm? Oh, hello. I'm afraid I can't really...it's not literal magic anymore. But humans have used these for divination as much as dark witches. Why not werewolves? Do you have a query?" He gestured at the seat across from him.

Life, as it always does, found a way to move on. Malcolm had always been good at keeping in step with time. His upbringing had never allowed a moment to linger, to dwell on something. He had to keep pushing forward. When tragedy occurred here, it was easy for him to turn that switch on. This last time had been a little harder, given he had been in direct contact with the conflict at hand. It was easy to move on when you were separated from the problem. When you are thrown into the eye of the storm, it is harder to shake off.

Malcolm was on his daily run when he noticed Rohan sitting at the picnic tables. The tarot spread piqued his interest. Memories of when Stevie used to pull cards for him came flooding back. The two of them sit cross-legged on the floor of their apartment. Back then, Malcolm didn't think much of it. In hindsight, it meant so much more. Taking his AirPods bud from his ear and catching his breath, Malcolm gave a winded smile. "There's still magic to it, isn't there? At least, that's what I've been taught." He shrugged. "I think werewolves can be magical if they choose to be." Malcolm teased playfully. "Oh wow, on the spot. Okay, uhm, think I'll have another kid?" It was the first thing that popped into his head. Of course, Malcolm had queries about his future. He wanted to know that everything would be alright in the end, but the ask felt too heavy and personal.

He sighed, an utterly glum noise. "All of the really, really good musicians were both. So." Kamran shrugged. "Really? Huh? Are chicks, like...still in that that? Asking for a friend. Between you and me, though, I don't know a whole lot about magic. Just what I picked up on my own. My family...we...I guess we didn't practice for a long time. There were no secret traditions to hand down or whatever. It's fine." He said it in a way that revealed it was anything but. "Decent? Okay? Ouch. I guess I asked for it. You look as princely as you usually do, William." Kamran gestured at him. "I'm glad you're alive, though. All that shit was wild." For an awkward moment, Kamran averted his gaze. "...Yeah. I mean. Never met the guy. But he kind of...there is no Bobby, only Zuul, didn't he? That sucks. Do you know why? What happened?"

"You know, there's still time for her to have a goth phase if she'd like. She is almost thirteen. She's more ... whimsical." It was strange to talk about his daughter so freely once again. For a while, she had become a memory, almost like a dream he could never quite touch. Now she was back in his life, perfect and grown, and Malcolm would never stop talking about her. "Most protein powder doesn't taste good. It has that weird aftertaste that makes it taste like chalk. Or like ... you know it's healthy. The secret is the ingredients. If you can't get fresh, frozen is just as good. I have some extra protein powders I'm not using that don't taste bad if you'd like some."

"That is true. It's where the greatest of art comes from." Malcolm gave a lopsided grin. "I don't think there will be a time when they won't be. I'm sure if you found the right person, they could be impressed by sparkles. Oh, I'm sorry, man. I get it. I kind of learned what it meant to be a wolf on my own. If you ever want to know more or just want some community, my gi- the mother of my daughter is a witch. She might be able to share some advice." While he didn't know the circumstances, Malcolm knew all too well how lonely this journey could be. "You did. I was more than happy to inflate your ego. Thank you. It's all in the hair. It has to defy gravity to reach princehood." Malcolm looked up as if his eyes could see his hair. "Thanks, I am too. Yeah, it was." Malcolm hadn't put a name to a hellhound until now. The realization of that dawned on him in that moment, his stomach twisting in knots. "I didn't either .. until then. Yeah, I would say so. I don't, and I wish I did. I've heard whispers of what it could be around town. Nothing for certain. I just hope it never happens again."

OPTION A location: Yellow Submarine

On breaks from work, Zuri loved to walk around the aquarium, visiting her favorite exhibits and sea creatures. A cuttlefish, nearly fully blended with the sand and rocks around it, lived in the massive tank before her, and was one of her favorites to visit. To the other person standing beside her, she offered, “Did you know cuttlefish are actually colorblind? It's kinda crazy, because they can exactly color match their surroundings to blend in. Kinda like what people think chameleons do, but cooler.”

OPTION B location: Happy Harvest Farmer's Market

Stevie enjoyed farmer's markets, and needed to stock up on produce and other essentials before heading picking up Rhiannon up from school. The school year was winding down and with summer about to start, Stevie was anxious to find a more permanent living situation for her and her daughter that didn't end in Motel. With those thoughts momentarily on the backburner, she passed a stand specifically for different flavored honeys. “Huh. Eucalyptus honey... Interesting, but not sure how my eleven year old will feel about that one.”

He wasn't stalking Stevie. She had asked for space, and that's exactly what Malcolm gave her. If she had asked him to take a long walk off a short bridge, he would have done just that. There was nothing on this earth that Malcolm wouldn't do for Stevie. The love he had for her could never shift into something platonic, but he would stuff his feelings away in a nice little box if it meant he could be in his daughter's life. The universe was a comedian when it came to him. It had brought them together many times in the past. It was doing so again now. For a split second, Malcolm considered backing up and heading in the other direction. He realized quickly that it was a very silly thing to do. He was a grown man who could absolutely be in the same vicinity as his ex. "She might say she's not a koala." Malcolm mused, coming up beside Stevie to stand beside her. "What about Orange Blossom? That seems like a safe bet."

Still, amusement lingered in his expression as Malcolm stepped closer instead of backing down. Zuva noticed the inhale, the tension buried beneath the stillness, the way Malcolm watched him. It was interesting. His own posture remained loose by comparison, hands tucked casually into his pockets like this conversation was amusing. "What was you supposed to do? Exactly the thing you did." There was no teasing with that, no games, just truth repeated with a shrug. "You throw yourself in front of danger because you want people safe. That's not your father speakin'. That's you, slay—" he stopped himself from saying it, lest the other man get all up in arms again. "This whole modesty thing you do?" Zuva continued, almost exasperated now. "I don't get it. Not every good thing you do gotta be dragged to the ground by guilt after. Ain't that exhaustin'?" His gaze flicked briefly toward where the silver burns surely lay hidden beneath fabric. "Though maybe next time try bein' slightly less suicidal about it," he added with a grin. "Just as a fun little personal goal. And lighten the fuck up too, it's like you don't know how to relax."

Malcolm would have been offended that his sincerity was being laughed at. The annoyance he held for Zuva overtook any other feelings he may have had in that moment. His patience was worn thin; Malcolm couldn't even attempt to muster his usual sunny disposition. "I haven't exactly had time to workshop my excuses. I didn't think I'd need them here." It was an oversight on his end. In the back of his mind, Malcolm thought he could just walk through Lunar Cove scott-free without having to delve into his past too much. For a while there, he had been able to. However, lying had never been his strong suit. "Yeah, you're right. I do. I have much to atone for." The usual banter fell short. The exhaustion settling onto his features.

It was hard to wind Malcolm up. Normally, he was someone who let things roll off his back, but somehow Zuva knew the right strings to pull. His insides felt as though he were guitar strings wound too tight. The slightest turn threatened their rupture. What came next stilled Malcolm. There was no witty comeback or snarky remark. Instead, Zuva's tone was genuine. Malcolm almost dared to pinch himself because surely this was a dream. For the first time in his life, Malcolm may have agreed with Zuva. That alone caused his senses to go into high alert; he eased up enough to let his shoulders sag a bit and exhale. "It's not modesty." He attempted, but no other words came to mind. Had he been raised differently, of course, he could have boasted about killing a hellhound. Who wouldn't? What he had done was not something he was proud of. A storm of conflicted emotions swelled inside of him. He had done what was right, but at the cost of falling into old habits he had buried. "Of course it is. I'm tired of carrying the weight of actions that weren't mine, of a life I didn't ask for, of guilt I can never wash out. I'm afraid to fully embrace what I am, in fear of my past taking it all away from me. So yeah, there's guilt with everything I do. I'm walking in a town of people I was raised to hate. I live among them knowing I don't deserve to. My intentions are good, but not everyone is going to see that."

Malcolm's eyes only narrowed at the comment. He didn't think his actions could be described as such, but he hadn't allowed himself to spiral into those dark thoughts either. "I don't think I've been relaxed in the last ten years. Unless you have any ideas on how to unwind and chill, I'm going to be a stick in the mud."

"Hey, hey, this is an ice cream run, not a therapy session. You can unlock my deep, dark secrets after Christmas." The truth was, yes, Malcolm was absolutely scared of who he was at his core. However, that wasn't exactly a light topic you casually brought up to the mother of your child's sister. "Huh, you know, you're absolutely right. Are you always this insightful, or am I just asking dumb questions here?" He replied playfully. "Oh, come on, I know the ways of Mr. Miyagi. It wasn't exactly karate. I riffed it here and there." Malcolm hadn't exactly taken the time to think of a brilliant lie to tell people where he learned how to slay a hellhound. He had hoped no one would attempt to broach the topic. "Hiking trip accident. I went missing for a few days, presumed dead. By the time I was found, your sister had left town." He shrugged. "If I knew where she was, I would've found her and Rhi sooner."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Anyone I might know?" Brow furrowing, JC cocked his head to one side. Most werewolves he knew were tied to this town and this pack, but he did know others lived beyond. Some of those others had just swarmed them all a few months earlier.

Crossing his arms, then, the Alpha studied him for a moment. "Well, there would be some paperwork, yes, but...uh, what do you mean?" Lunar Cove was a place for wandering supernaturals to come as they were, of course, but now, more than ever, he found he had little tolerance for surprises. "Is it something you can talk about?"

Malcolm nodded in agreement. Life in Lunar Cove had certainly been an adjustment. He was used to dangerous situations growing up. For a moment in time, he had found a sense of peace. It was wishful thinking to believe someone like him could continue to deserve peace. "I'm not sure. His name was Felix. Lived in the woods in California. He knew of Lunar Cove, so it's possible he was here." Malcolm had never asked further questions about Felix's knowledge of Lunar Cove. By the time the information had been presented, the old wolf's life was coming to its end. Malcolm wanted to spend those last moments with him and not in the past. The memory of him made Malcolm's smile falter, tinged with a sadness he tried to hide. Felix was the only father figure who ever accepted him. A man who owed him nothing, yet unbeknownst to him gave him everything.

He lifted his gaze, eyes meeting the Alpha's. It wasn't the first time he had come face-to-face with one. It certainly wouldn't be the last, either now. Still, the same guilt swirled in his stomach as their eyes locked. "Yes, of course." The words lodged themselves in his throat; shame kept them at bay. His past was a secret he carried like a scarlet letter. Even before his transformation, he had never been the proud son of a hunter his father wanted him to be. Being a hunter never felt right. It had always felt like he was putting on a second skin that didn't belong to him. His transformation into a wolf was the first time Malcolm felt at home in his body. Of course, it took a few years for the internal conflict to subside. There were still days he felt like an imposter. To some extent, he was. He certainly felt like one now as he looked at the resident Alpha, willing to share his secret past even though he knew for certain he would be greeted with distrust rather than open arms. The truth always had a way of coming out. Malcolm would rather have been honest now than burn bridges with JC later.

"Before I became a wolf ... I came from a family of hunters. I no longer have any ties to my family. If anything, I'm dead to them. I ... I wanted you to hear it from me first, rather than find out later on from someone else." Malcolm's gaze averted to the ground for a split second. His throat constricted with emotion. "I understand if you'd want me to leave town. I don't want to cause problems or harm to you, your pack, or anyone else here. I just want to live a peaceful life." A peaceful life that included Stevie and Rhiannon was all he ever wanted, but he would always put their well-being first, even if that meant he wasn't in the picture.

"Me? Physically? Fine. Can't say the same for my pride. Do you know there's a witch potion that makes you just a total fucking douche? I didn't. I can't brew potions. They're locked behind the DLC." He grumbled a bit, shifting back and forth. "Don't tell me I look great. It'll go to my head. I was walking around telling people how great I looked. Disgusting, right? How about you...? Besides the...you know, not all dogs don't go to heaven whatever."

"Yeah, I'm out shopping for my daughter. Just regular Wednesday activities." His own face twisted into one of concern as he watched Kamran. The bottle he was holding seemed to contain the suspect for his discomfort. Kamran's face confirmed it, and Malcolm felt his own ease back into a more pleasant expression. "I think it depends on what kind of ingredients you use. Some shakes taste awful, but some can taste really good. What did you use?"

"I guess physically fine and emotionally bruised is better than nothing, yanno? I didn't until now. I know there's a spell that makes you sparkle like Edward Cullen. I will keep that in mind. So you had no way of countering the spell? You just had to deal with it? Man, that sucks. I'm sorry." His apology was sincere. People had experienced varying degrees of trauma from the masquerade. He hated that Kamran hadn't left unscathed. "Okay, uh, you look decent. Just okay. There's a fine line between knowing you're great while being humble and being a total asshole about it. I'm guessing the potion did the latter. Oh, yeah, I'm... kinda physically fine. I have some bites, scratches, and burns, nothing too crazy. Maybe emotionally bruised as well, but I'm here. I'm alive." He rubbed the back of his neck, his hands burning at the mention as if the silver he pierced the hellhound with was still in his grasp. "I do .. feel bad for Bobby."

Malcolm knew all too well what it was like to have a younger sister. However, Lennon was vastly different than Josie. Expect, of course, given they were two different individuals, but the comments she made rolled off his back like water. If anything, he found them amusing. The wolf enjoyed his ice cream as he listened to Len's explanation of her powers. It was interesting to hear firsthand what their powers meant to them as opposed to gaining the knowledge from books written by humans. This world he had now found himself part of was not what he had been taught. Malcolm was happy to be proven wrong. "That makes a lot of sense, yeah. I think some people are scared of who they are at their core. Some are just brave enough to accept and acknowledge it." He gestured to Lennon. "I watched too many action movies growing up. Pair that with karate, and you have what I did. Haven't you ever seen Cobra Kai? They were fighting everyone, everywhere." It felt like a good enough white lie. He had been trained, just not in the ways he had said. "We grew up around each other. I've known your sister since I was like, oh, nine? maybe ten. It's hard to really say because I don't remember a time without her in my life. I always had a giant crush on Stevie, and she never gave me the time of day until high school. We started dating, moved in together once we were in college, and then Rhiannon came along. We weren't exactly, uh, careful, but I wouldn't change a thing about how our daughter came to be."