#mal sullyvan

"I have this nagging feeling I should be somewhere Deus-Ex-Machina solving something. But I cannot remember where."

Mal: So this is where he buried you. Hmm. You were hard to find, you're not all here. I wonder where the rest of you is hiding, where your Eye is hiding.

Guess you were always a stubborn little Eye, weren't you Apollo?

Mal sighed.

Mal: I am here to apologize to you. Not for not understanding you, I understood you better than you believe, but... for washing my hands off you, for turning a blind eye and deciding you were not my problem, not my villain, when I knew full well, when your attention shifted from your brother, it would be me you'd come hunting for.

Perhaps I'm a coward. Or just plain selfish. Not wanting to be bothered, hoping someone else would fix my mistake for me.

I knew why you wanted to be a hero so bad. Your brother wasn't the only victim back then. You were a kid, and you were also a victim, and instead of helping a kid come to terms with all that happened, I chose to demonize you.

Maeve: Mal, you are not going to repeat their story.

Mal: I failed with Arlo and Apollo, a miscalculation on my part. Washed my hands from the blood that's inevitably on them due to my part on all of it. But the fact remains, I failed them... I don't want to do the same with Syra.

She asked my help. I told her it was a bad idea. She insisted... So I did.

Maeve: That doesn't mean you should allow yourself to be hurt.

Mal: For my children? Within understandable bounds, that's what being a father is all about.

Maeve: Thought this wasn't your parenting run.

Mal: And it isn't, and it has been very hard not to level that skill... And apparently centuries of existence didn't teach me anything, I keep walking into... into the exact same problems and having to deal with the inevitable aftermath of it.

Maeve: Is this why you try to be distant?

Mal: I have lived centuries. I have tried isolation and I have tried living in society. It's easier to just live, to live with the fact I will outlive the people I love, to accept I will watch my children die. So I try to become... an afterthought to them. There will be no resentment from them towards my predicament. That way is easier to let go. It won't hurt that much. Because it hurts, I walk away happy knowing I gave the people I loved a normal life so to say, hope the chaos that is my existence doesn't hit them too hard, but it hurts every time, rather the chaos hits them or not. And even with all this power, all this knowledge I make mistakes and it hurts every. Single. Time! So I hide behind this wall, "it's not my parenting run" and I emotionally check out of their lives, but then I watch them fall and I want to be there to catch them, but sometimes it's too late...

Maeve: It'll only be too late if you allow it to be too late, Mal.

Mal: I can't foretell the future Maeve. I have a slight idea of the future plot, but I don't always know what will happen until it does and then it's too late. And sometimes, catching them will do worse. It's a blood double-edged sword.

Maeve: And you don't want the same to happen to Syra... What about Dim and Alcina?

Mal: I'll become the same to Dim and Alcina most aging parents do. They'll go on with their lives, visit during Winter's Eve, but after you die and I sell this house. They'll live on and forget about me, so, it's best I give them to freedom to facilitate that. I'm an afterthought.

Maeve: But not Syra.

Mal: Syracusia will never forget either of us, Maeve. If there is any good in my Eyes, Syracusia has inherited it all! But she can't stay with me forever. I am a Paradox, I attract all that is good and all that is bad. Same thing with Arlo and Apollo. Change and Antagony chases us.

So it's better to be selfish, and mean, and cold and little bit distant... So when time comes and I leave, it won't hurt them as much, because it's not like I was ever there to start with. It will hurt me to go, it always do, I may hide, I may pretend it doesn't, but it's easier to let go, if I am an afterthought.

Maeve shook her head and pulled him closer, pressing her forehead against his.

Maeve: Your reasoning has some flaws, you know. I don't agree with it.

Mal: Like I said, it doesn't justify it.

Maeve: But I understand. And in my opinion, that's bullshit!

Mal chuckled.

Maeve: You just said it yourself. Staying away, being distant, doesn't work either. So either love us plainly or leave! Don't half-ass it! Aren't you the one who's always saying you don't like to leave loose ends? Then don't leave them!

Mal: Maeve...

Maeve: You should do your best to be a good dad and a good husband for us, as long as you can, because, like you said, even if you become an afterthought, you can become a good afterthought. We're going to age, and die and you'll be here. Become a good memory for us to bring with us to the grave. Even if time erases us from you, let us take the thought of the wonderful man I know you are with us.

Mal closed his eyes, shaking his head. There was a certain disbelief that from all he said, that was what she chose to take from it.

Mal: Since when have you been wise?

Maeve: I'm almost on my fifties and I am a mother of five and I have messed up with a few of them. I have learned. I can chose to keep doing the same mistake, dwell on them, or try to make things better for the ones who are here. You can make the same choice.

Maeve: Then talk to me. Make me understand.

Mal pulled back, looking at her.

Mal: I am immortal. I can heal from virtually anything.

Maeve: I know.

Mal: I was back there. To a particular time...

Maeve: What time, Mal? What happened?

Mal: I am no sado-masochist. I hate pain. But my brain doesn't know what to do with my body when it finds itself trapped in pain. Repeated regenerations, repeated torture and pain has lead to this.

Sometimes it improvises. Pleasure is very close to pain, so "here, you're being tortured, have a boner! Wait? That didn't work? Fuck, that was all I had!" Guess I'm stuck now with excruciating pain and excruciating humiliation, woowoo.

Honestly, I can live with pain, humiliation?

Maeve: Don't drift off. Focus, Mal...

She pulled him back and he nodded.

Mal: One vampire figured out how to fire that reaction in me. In Astreia, we have two types of vampires, the Devourers, like that dragon, and the Cainites. I was at a point at the hands of a Cainite who had far too much fun torturing me. When that vampire bit me, I was back there.

I allowed it to bite me, because I knew from experience he get enough energy to not be a problem anytime soon, but... it still happened.

I was there, it wasn't the dragon, our daughter wasn't there. I was back there. I just... needed to escape, somehow, somewhere. I joked with it, but the sense of helplessness and humiliation I felt...

Maeve: You shouldn't have allowed it to bite you, Mal.

Mal: I know. But Syra asked me to help.

Maeve: Why? You have turned a blind eye to other things, why help now knowing you'd be in danger?

Mal: Emil. Sit down, let's talk.

Emil: Ah, yes!

Emil went to sit down by Mal's side. I had already been a week since Emil had been rescued by the Sullyvan family. They had met Syra, the one responsible for saving them, the young twins who were always up to their own devices, the wife, Maeve, and Mal, the dragon. They had grown closer to both Syra and Mal, who were both very welcoming and understanding.

Mal: How are you adapting?

Emil:... I huh... I miss my wings.

Mal: Understandable. But they're healing well.

Emil nodded.

Mal: You can learn to float. I mean, it's rather embarassing for your type of dragon to fly around like a serpent, but...

Emil shook their head.

Emil: No. It's alright. I have... I have done horrible things that are not worthy of a dragon. I don't deserve to fly, they so decided, it's only fair.

Mal: What do you plan to do with your wings?

Emil touched their earrings.

Emil: I want to make teaching instruments with them.

Mal: You were a scholar.

Emil: Yes, a teacher, a long time ago. Perhaps I can be again.

Mal: Well, you can stay with us for as long as you need.

Emil walked outside to find the entire family taking care of the garden. The first few days after they came to, they had found themself looked, though they understood why. Their instinct had kicked in and they had attacked the dragon, the paradox. Today, when Emil woke up, they found their bedroom door unlocked and clothes by the foot of the table for them to wear.

Slowly, they walked outside, their eyes falling on the dragon. A Paradox. Emil had never met one before, they had read they were terrifying being whose morals were as strong as they were lacking. Creatures capable of creating new worlds only to wipe them out of existence. That one, despite powerful, however, looked just like a normal human male, albeit an unnaturally beautiful one.

Emil: Huh... Hi...

Mal: Morning. I see you found your clothes. We weren't sure what you preferred to wear, so we picked and chose anything that might fit you. If you don't like it, it's Syra's fault.

Emil: Syra? The girl?

Mal: Aye.

Emil: I would like to apologize... What I did was, extremely shameful.

Mal chuckled.

Mal: I'm [Ga]Mal[l], or just Mal.

Emil flushed red.

Emil: Emil... huh... Ward.

Mal: Do you want to help out?

Emil: I-

After locking the vampire in the bathroom, who appeared to be having what they could all only describe as a substance induced trip, Mal was pulled outside to the living room, while Syra was tasked with finding Arlo to place a ward on the room in case Mal didn't become responsive himself to do it.

Maeve held Mal in her arms for an indescribable amount of time, while assuring him he was home and he was safe. She didn't know where she went, she was well aware he had serious mental issues, she was well aware he had PTSD, she just didn't know what was behind of it. Any of it.

Maeve: I wish you'd speak with me, Mal. There's so much you hide from me, from us, things you don't want to or can't talk about. Things that would explain so much, the tales behind your scars, both physical and mental. I... I just wish you'd trust us with this. You say you love us and I know you do, I have felt your love, but you are capable of being incredibly cold and selfish and closed off. You will always listen to us, but then you shut off any information, anything until you have no choice but to speak it.

Why?

I wish... you'd talk to me. Something, anything. So that perhaps I could understand, understand why you are this way, with me, with your kids, with us.

Mal:... It wouldn't justify anything...

Maeve closed her eyes.

Maeve: I am not asking for a justification, Mal, just... an explanation. Anything...

To his silence she sighed.

Maeve: Will the dragon-vampire-thing be dangerous?

Mal: No... I wouldn't let him in if he was.

Maeve: But he attacked you.

Mal: I knew he would. I was expecting him to. He's probably high on my spiritual energy, and when he comes down from his high, he'll be full enough to not try and attack anyone else. It's counterproductive, I already showed him I can wipe the floor with him.

Maeve: Why help it?

Mal: Syra asked.

Maeve: Since when do you do everything your kids ask of you?