darker_london | Together again (Flynn, Quinn) Backstory! (Reply)

Ardal Quinn had not seen Malachy O'Reilly in a very long time. Not since showing up at his doorstep on the morning after Whitehead had been rocked by bombing and violence to confront Mal about his part in it. Ardal couldn't be close to someone who could so willingly bring other people harm. He had stayed away, but he had to admit to himself, if not to anyone else, that it was not easy.

He missed Malachy. He missed his friend.

Ardal spent the summer days doing exactly what he spent every day doing. Ardal was an avid studier. And even though he didn't have classes or schoolwork, he set himself tasks to complete and he went to the library to read practically anything he could get his hands on. Some days he studied there, and others he took the books to a park and he read them outside, under a tree, cigarette in between his fingers with the smoke curling upwards, forgotten as soon as Ardal's eyes started to guzzle up the words on the page as greedily as a starving person might attack a bowl of soup.

While studying indoors when it was required, Ardal hardly ever noticed the people around him. Occasionally he had an acquaintance with him, and it so happened, on the 12th of August, 2000, that he had a study companion who wasn't quite as focused as he was. "Ardal." The girl hissed, below her breath, but loud enough to jolt Ardal out of his reverie of the written word.

"Wha?" Ardal blinked and then he looked across the table at his study buddy, Marlene. "Did you read something interesting?"

Marlene arched one eyebrow at him before shaking her head in exasperation. "No, Ardal! Do you ever think of anything else?"

"Not...really." Ardal answered, mostly honestly.

"That boy's staring at you." Marlene informed him, nodding her head in the direction of the staring boy. "It's that O'Reilly boy."

Instantly, Ardal felt his heart leap into his throat and he was shaking by the time he turned around to look. There he was. Malachy O'Reilly, standing there in the non-fiction section, staring at him as Ardal stared right back. Mal turned instantly red and he sort of gave Ardal a little wave. Ardal turned around and he gave Marlene a look of disgust, even if somewhere deep inside, his heart was rebelling against him, urging him to go speak to Mal. "Why is he even here?" Ardal asked. "Shouldn't he be out blowing shite up?"

Marlene raised her eyebrows and she leaned forward conspiratorially. "I heard he quit all that." She whispered. Of course it was all hearsay. No one had ever confirmed he had ever been involved, it was just something people knew without knowing. "He left after they went after the cops. He hasn't been with them lately."

Ardal blinked and then he looked back over at Mal who was now trying to look as busy as possible though the look on his face was absolutely crushed. "He left?" Ardal mused quietly. "Left them?"

Marlene nodded, even though Ardal wasn't looking at her anymore. "They say he dumped that redhead of his too. She was apparently so mad she tried to blow him up, but he was too smart for her and he managed to diffuse the bomb." Ardal turned around in time to see Marlene looking superior because she knew so much about the secret goings on of the PIRA.

"He diffused the bomb?" Ardal said incredulously.

"Yeah!" Marlene grinned and Ardal sighed.

When Ardal turned back around to look at Mal again, the boy was no longer behind him. "Shite!" Ardal hissed, and he jumped up from his seat to find him. If what Marlene said was true, part of it at least, then Ardal didn't have to stay away from Mal anymore!

Ardal wended his way through the stacks, making sure to keep his book bag close to his body so he didn't cause any of the books a terrible mischief. He didn't find Mal for several minutes and by the time he did locate him, Mal was standing in front of several books on the life of Michael Collins. Quinn didn't know if that was a good sign or not, but he cleared his throat anyway, deciding to give Mal the benefit of the doubt, whether prudent or not. Mal looked up quickly and when he saw Ardal, he went pale again. "A...Ar...hi." Mal mumbled, sort of shrinking in a way Ardal had never seen him do before.

"Hi." Ardal reached up to loop his fingers in the strap of his bookbag to give his hands something to do. "I heard you left your friends behind?" Mal bit his lip and he glanced around before nodding once. "Why?" Ardal asked, genuinely wondering.

Mal shrugged and Ardal realised that in just a month and a half, Mal's entire demeanor had changed, at least outwardly. He was no longer the loud and rambunctious thug he had been. He seemed calm, quiet and shy. "Wasn't me anymore." Flynn mumbled, stubbing his toe against the grey carpet to see if he could have any effect on the industrial weave, flattened into shape by years of being trodden on.

Ardal smiled, trying not to look too pleased, but it was hard. "You don't do any of that anymore?"

Mal looked up at Ardal and he looked slightly put upon that he was having to confirm he ever had something to do with it by confirming that he no longer did. "I don't." He said firmly. "They don't like it, but I don't care."

"They...don't like it?" Ardal asked, and Mal shook his head hurriedly. The slightly ashamed way in which he did it led Ardal to believe that there was possibly something to this. "Mal...did they try to stop you from leaving them."

Mal looked pained and he glanced around again. "I can't talk here!" He hissed frantically and Ardal understood from the franticness of his expression that he wasn't to be argued with. He grabbed Mal's arm and they both exited the library, making their way back to Ardal's house. His parents weren't home, which made it the perfect place to talk. They settled down on Ardal's bed and Ardal leaned forward, trying to show Mal he was proud of him without having to say it.

"Did they hurt you, Mal?"

Mal shrugged again. He'd been hurt before. Lots of times. He'd been in knife fights and street fights and explosions and none of it really mattered if you came out of it alive. He had been a fighter and oftentimes he gave back much worse than he got. He couldn't anymore. He had let Frankie and his friends take out their rage on him and he hadn't done a thing to stop it, lest he lose himself in it again. "Nothin' I haven't had before. Couldn't fight back."

Ardal winced at that and he chewed on his tongue in his discomfort. "Mal is...was that for me? Because I got angry?"

Mal finally looked up and he leveled Ardal with a direct gaze from his grey eyes. "You said you didn't want to be around someone like me. And I didn't want to be someone like me anymore either. I didn't want to be someone you couldn't be friends with." Mal sighed. "I know it might sound weird but...I never liked learnin', right? School was boring and then you showed me that it doesn't have to be. You showed me not everything is about this...great injustice what happened years n' years ago. And you're right, I couldn't be a part of...not after..." Mal shuddered to think of the poor little kids that had nearly lost their lives because of his actions. "So I left and I've been readin' so I'm not so behind when school starts. And I read some on Big Mick too, because I figure if I understand what he felt and what he did...maybe I'd understand more of what goes on here...not just what I been told by my parents."

Ardal nodded, pleased. "That's smart, Mal."

"Frankie, don't like it though. And my parents were always proud of us for doin' our thing for Ireland. So they aren't happy with me either. I reckon if I weren't 15, they'd have kicked me out."

Ardal looked horrified at that. "Just because you...don't feel like blowing people up?!"

Mal shrugged. "I reckon so." He watched Ardal's face for a moment before asking, "What've you been doin'?"

"Just reading." Ardal said in such a way that Flynn understood Ardal did not, for a second, consider it 'just reading' at all. "I love classical philosophy, so I've been delvin' into it this summer. Hardly as productive as you, but I love it. Malachy...why didn't you tell me about this?"

"You said you didn't want to see me." Mal said simply.

"I didn't want to be around someone who thought hurtin' people was okay." Ardal explained, much more easily now that he wasn't angry. "But you don't think that. Not anymore. I could've been there for you. You could have stayed here or somethin'. If you needed to."

Mal smiled a little. "I been okay."

"So...did you diffuse a bomb?" Ardal asked, looking intensely interested.

"What?!" Mal exclaimed and then he burst out laughing. "Is that what folks is sayin'?!"

"Yeah." Ardal grinned. "You left the PIRA behind and Rage tried to bomb you because she was a jilted woman. But you diffused the bomb."

Mal let out a slow breath. "If Rage wanted me dead, trust me, I wouldn't be able to stop it." Mal hissed, almost too softly for Ardal to hear. And then he said, "I'm not with 'er anymore. She wasn't happy. But she didn't try to blow me up or nothin'. She's like a devil woman, but I think she thinks she can get me back. I ain't goin' back. I'll just have to keep sayin' as much."

Ardal was even more pleased to have it confirmed that Mal wasn't with Rage anymore, though he couldn't put his finger on why. Not exactly. Well he could if he was being honest with himself, but at fifteen he was confused enough as it was without adding fuzzy feelings for Malachy O'Reilly to the mix. At fifteen, honesty was overrated. "I wish I could've been there for you." He meant that. "I...I meant what I said when I yelled." That much honestly he could handle. "But I did miss you. And it was only because I don't...I just don't like violence." Ardal finished up.

"I get that." Mal nodded. The things he had seen had caused him to be de-sensitized to it. But now he saw the implications of the violence he had done, and he didn't like it either. "I do now. I wouldn't have if you hadn't yelled. So I'm glad you did."

Ardal smiled and he leaned forward, his knees on his elbows. "Reckon you want to tell me the things you've been readin'?" He asked, a cute little smile on his face.

At that suggestion, Malachy lit up. This was exactly what he had wanted. He had his friend back. He was a better person. That just made everything else worth it.