darker_london | I won't run away (Mal, Rage, Ardal) Backstory (Reply)

Mal had thought nothing of it when Rage had shown up at his house the next day and claimed, "I'm with you." Sure, it seemed a rather obvious statement, but Rage had just had the shit kicked out of her by her arsehole of a father, and Mal didn't expect that she was going to say the world's most intelligent things. Either way, she most definitely was 'with him' and he was glad of that.

When Mal woke up in the morning, however, Rage was no longer with him. Mal frowned cutely, an expression most of the people who knew him would have found a trifle disturbing. There was a note on the pillow beside him and he smiled as he read it:

See you later.

Everything is going to be just fine.

♥ R

XOXO

Mal didn't know what exactly would be fine. Maybe she had just meant her, in which case she'd better be fine! Pulling himself from the bed reluctantly, Mal went about his morning routine without worry. Until he heard the sirens. Whitehall was a small town, sure, but there were plenty of people the sirens could have been responding to. Mal's stomach froze anyway. Everything is going to be just fine. And Malachy just knew the sirens were heading towards Reagan's house.

Mal burst out of his front door, disturbing the otherwise idyllic summer morning. The birds stopped chirping cheerfully when they were interrupted by a slamming door, and a half clad boy began sprinting down the street while trying to pull a t-shirt over his head. Which, by the way, is even harder than it looks. Mal struggled with it, stumbling and righting himself the entire way to the Winthrop house. When he reached it, he was immediately stopped by the cops, who were surrounding the place. "She's me-" Mal tried to say, but he was quite breathless. "-me girlfriend!" He finished, and he was answered with the same thing the cops always say.

"I'm sorry, Son, you'll have to wait out here."

"Bullshit, I want to see her! Is she okay?! Did he hurt her again?!" Mal didn't cry. He didn't cry, but he was clearly panicking, as it was written all over his face. "Please tell me if she's okay!?"

"Did Mr Winthrop harm his daughter, Son?" The cop asked, suddenly interested because any information was good information.

"Er...he..." Suddenly Mal realised he wasn't supposed to have said that. And then he imagined Reagan cutting his balls off and laughing maniacally and he swallowed roughly. "I..." As the cop reached for his notepad, Mal pushed past him and slipped into the house before anyone else could stop him.

"-I just found him like that!" Rage was sobbing. Mal had never seen Reagan sob like that unless she was playacting. He could see right through it. Everyone else, however, seemed to be buying it hook, line and sinker. If she was playacting, she was fine. So Mal crossed his arms and he leaned against the wall to listen while he could. "He always drank, but I never thought he'd..." And then Rage wailed loudly and dropped her head forlornly to her lap.

Mal's lips thinned and then finally the cop he'd given the slip burst through the door, drawing everyone's attention to them. "You come outside right now." The cop growled. As he was dragged away, he could have sworn Rage winked at him...

"Ow, fuck! There's no need to paw me, I don't even know what the fuck's goin' on!" Mal yelled, pulling his arm out of the cops hand. "Did something happen to Mr Winthrop?" Mal didn't care about him. In fact, he rather hoped the man had met a messy end...naturally...

"I cannot confirm or deny-"

Mal managed to overhear a doctor say 'alcohol poisoning' at that moment, so he interrupted the cop. "Alcohol poisoning?!"

"Can't even keep a crime scene secure. Fuck. He was found this morning by his daughter. His wife was out all night and his daughter said she spent the night with her boyfriend and returned to find him dead in the kitchen, having choked on his own vomit."

I'm with you. The dread in Mal's stomach spread to his heart. I'm with you. Everything is going to be just fine. It bloody well was not just fine! Rage had killed him. She had killed her father. "I...she was with me." Mal said, on auto pilot. "I'm the boyfriend."

"She was with you all night?"

"Mmm? I mean yes. Yes, she was...my mum saw her if you want to ask." Mal looked up at the cops. "So...he just drank himself to death right? He did this to himself?" Just make sure no one suspected Rage first. No one but him, of course.

"That's right, Kid. It's one hell of an anti-drinking ad, choking on your own vomit."

Malachy made a horrible face and he backed away from the cops. "Er...I...I should go. I...this is..." And then he turned and walked away.

When he was out of view, he ran. He didn't run home, because no place felt safe any more. Rage had killed her father. Malachy knew it. So he ran until he couldn't run any more. He ran to the only place he could think of.

Malachy stared down at the tips of his converse, gray and peeling with age. He lifted his eyes to the house in front of him, which was in quite a similar state. Quickly he pulled the tattered and worn piece of paper from his pocket, and he could just make out the faded pencil marks spelling out 55 Sycamore Grove, though he had the content memorised by now anyway. Mal took a deep breath, and he went to knock on the door, the hollow sound cutting through the self-inflicted silence as he realised he could no longer ignore the world around him if he was going to do this.

Ardal Quinn's face appeared from behind the drab door, brightening the surroundings with one brilliant smile. "Mal! Is everything okay?" Mal had never visited before, so something must have been up.

Mal shook his head in consternation, because he couldn't tell Ardal what had happened. Not the least of which reason being that that made him an accessory. "Want a smoke?" Mal asked, his voice quiet.

Ardal watched him for a moment longer and then he nodded and held the door open so Mal could come in. "I reckon."