toxic waste

“Not a single thing. You know how I am, I start to talk and then it gets all confusing.” She laughed as she looked around, trying to make him forget she was indeed speaking her mind.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but do you have A.D.H.D or something?” 

“If you’re going to insist on staring at me like that, then you should at least buy me a drink first.” 

“I don’t think my girlfriend would be too pleased to hear me doing either of those two things.” 

“Yeah… like I would the one having thoughts about you. Aiming the wrong way, buddy.” Ericka pretended she didn’t say anything, after all it was just assumptions she had on her mind, Lucy and Malcom were always together and deep down she always thought there were sparks there. “Anyway… No, I’m not like Lucy. But I hate whiskey, so vodka will be my choice.”

“What are you trying to say exactly?” he asked, tilting his head to the side in amusement. 

Cassandra sighed turning to look at the intoxicated werewolf. “I’m pretty sure you asked for that handle of Jack. Don’t blame the bartender.” She rolled her eyes before she turned around and made the shot, though it wasn’t nearly as good as she wanted. “Yeah, I’ve considered recording you so I can listen to your voice later when I’m not around you.”

Poking his bottom lip out in a fake pout, Malcom shrugged his shoulder before handing to bottle to her. “Well in that case, this drink is on me.” 

The sight of Malcom alone was enough to make Lucy feel as if she had lost her own brother, even if the both of them were still alive and well– or as well as one can be in this town. It was like they were connected to each other. She genuinely felt like she could feel his pain, his sorrows in her own body. The loss of the alpha was something no one expected would happen. Conor was strong both physically and mentally. Lucy honestly thought he’d probably be one of the last ones standing on the Bricketwood side when full out war breaks out, but due to a couple of hunters, this was no longer a potential reality. 

“You better be falling for me,” he teased, letting a small smile pull at his lips. The cocky grin that was usually on Malcom’s face twenty-four-seven was starting to make its appearance again despite all the sadness he felt inside. Would Conor look down at him if he knew that Malcom was already smiling, merely three or so days after finding out he was murdered? The werewolf wanted to believe that Conor would understand, that he would rather Malcom let himself find happiness quicker so he could be the alpha he was having to become than pretending nothing had happened. That was one thing Malcom knew Conor would be upset about, the fact that Malcom thought he could pretend everything away and deal with it when he wanted to. 

Kim had gone through much tradgedy in her short life and had learned to contain her emotions. Even on the outside it might show that she had gotten over the recent tradgedy but in the inside she was broken and her beast also wept for the lose of their beloved alpha. She stood up straighter when he mentioned Cameron and she was instantly ready to do not only her job but what she needed to do. “Where is he? I’ll go talk to him right now”.

“Woa, slow down. The last thing we need to be doing is barging into his hospital room and demanding he tell us what happened,” he replied, putting his hands on her shoulders. “Let me talk to Alice first, and then we’ll go from there.” 

Lucy had never seen Malcom so vulnerable before. He’s had moments where he let his walls down, such as after she was attacked by Anastasia, but this was something entirely different. Usually it was the opposite for them. Malcom was the steady one, and Lucy was the one needing someone to lean on, a shoulder for her tears, or just merely someone to vent to. Then again, Malcom also never felt the loss of a loved one before, so maybe things were just changing all together.

With the soft kiss Lucy pressed to his cheek, Malcom’s walls completely fell down and tears spilled down his face. Turning into a wolf every full moon didn’t feel as bad as the pain over his brother’s death did. Was it possible for him to move on, to take leadership of the pack that his brother had built and create a whole new life for himself? Pretending that Conor wasn’t dead was so much easier for Malcom but he knew he couldn’t pretend anymore. He couldn’t wish away the pain because in the end it would always be there. A sob broke from his lips as the man’s shoulders shook, leaving him to be the most vulnerable he had ever been in front of someone. He was just glad it was Lucy and no one else. 

“If you could shut up… I can’t concetrate with your blubber in my ears!”

“That’s what happens when you’re shown you brother heart cut out and then given a handle of Jack from the bartender. And anyways, you love the sound of my voice, so get over it,” he grinned, clearly drunk. 

Ana flinched at his harsh tone. She opened her mouth, trying to find a response to his questions. But she couldn’t find one. Not one that he would accept. He was poking holes in her argument like it was tissue paper. “I don’t know Malcom. I was scared. I was so scared. Deep down I was afraid they would come after me at some point in time if I ever truly left them.” She sighed, hanging her head low in shame. He was right. But she never knew any other way. “That’s how our pack operated. You were stuck at your rank unless you could provide boys. Boys made the pack strong. It meant you were strong.” She knew listening to herself how backwards it sounded but it was the truth. Something Ana had been avoiding most of her life.

Pain tore at Malcom’s chest as she spoke of her pack, empathy for what she had gone through filling his whole body. Finally hearing the truth changed everything between them and Malcom wasn’t sure how he felt about it. For so long he had let his hate for her drive him, plaguing him with a toxic anger that never ceased to leave him be. His days had become consumed with his need to take his revenge out on her, wanting her to feel that pain he had. But now that wasn’t the case and it made Malcom feel like his whole world was crumbling. The werewolf knew without a doubt that she had gone through so much more than what she had put him through, that her pain exceeded his by tenfold. There was no need for him to seek revenge seeing as she was dealt so much worse than he had ever been in his entire life. 

Kim took a couple deep breaths, closing her eyes to prevent the tears from falling. This was a hard time right now and she needed to be strong for them; for herself. Opening her eyes she lifted them to Malcom and nodded her head at his words. “Yea we will and we are going to find these guys; I will do whatever it takes for find them”.

Malcom hadn’t expected Kimberly to pull herself so quickly and it threw him off slightly. Was it really that easy for people to push grief away, to pretend it was’t really happening? You’re doing it, aren’t you? “We need to talk to Cameron, he was with Conor on the mission.”

Lucy felt a pang of disappointment when he pulled away from the kiss. Truth be told, their minds were headed in two different directions. While Malcom wanted to push away the events and bury them in other things, Lucy wanted to bring it out into the light. She wanted to discuss it, help Malcom move forward as best he can from it, but clearly that wasn’t what he wanted. Lucy was always more sensitive with her feelings. Her eyes easily gave way to what her emotions were. Her brothers developed the gene of being able to cover up their feelings from the world, not her.

Lucy was like an angle in the dark, calling Malcom away from the darkness. She had always been the person that kept him stable and whole, never letting him stray to far from redemption. She was his north star, a lightening bug in the dark, always leading him to where he was supposed to go. It probably wasn’t the healthiest thing, but Malcom had never relied on it as a crutch but as instead as a motivational force.

Anastasia shook her head. If only it would have been that easy. If she could have just told him what had happened to her, maybe things would be different. But that was then and they were living in the now. Where she hadn’t told him, couldn’t tell him until now. When she was finding herself at the end of her rope. “I couldn’t tell you Mal. Then I’d never be anything. I wouldn’t be able to prove that I could make my parents proud. That I wasn’t the reason the pack walked all over us. Don’t you get it? All I’ve ever been is disappointment after disappointment to them. This… this persona? This isn’t me. It’s never been me.” Her shoulders shook as she tried to hold herself together. This wasn’t how this was supposed to happen. Malcom was never supposed to see this side of her. No one wanted a weak willed, emotional woman as their other half. But that’s what she was deep down. What she hid from everyone.

“No, don’t you fucking try and justify what they did to you,” he snapped, outraged by the way she seemed to think it was all normal. “I get that they are you’re parents, but you were out, Ana, why didn’t you just stay out?” You could have left with us and left them behind. Left the pain behind. Fuck them. You can’t possibly believe that it was your job to make them something, that’s not a child jobs.” If Malcom were to ever meet her parents, he was afraid of what he would do. As much as he felt like a disappointment to his own parents because he wasn’t like his brother, he always knew they loved him. 

Lucy often felt like the mother of the coven due to her empathetic ways and desire to see everyone up and smiling. Malcom didn’t feel like her child, but she felt a need to get him through the tough time he had ahead of him with Conor’s death and the fact that he’s next in line for the alpha position when Lucy knew he never desired the role. The feeling of his arms wrapping around her made her happy, but the happiness died down when she remembered the circumstances it was over. Lucy felt his arms shaking and tightened her grip a bit, hoping it would help him calm down. She wasn’t going anywhere. Malcom was someone she cared deeply about, and if he was hurting, she’d be beside him until the pain lessened. Lucy knew he’d do the same with her if it were James or Dominic.

Though she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back, she didn’t do it with quite with the same emotions as he had. While Malcom’s lips were hungry and demanding, her’s were lite and careful. The werewolf instantly pulled away, his eyebrows scrunched in confusion. No one wants to be with an emotionally crippled drunk, the voice laughed at him. Taking a step back, Malcom removed himself from her embrace and turned his back on her. He knew she deserved more than this-- more than a man who’s lips tasted like whiskey and eyes that weren’t as bright as they used to be.