"You're in love with Delta," he starts, seething, "and Loki? And I don't even know who Jack is. Is North part of this, too? Do you just have some little--some little harem that you decided I was never to know about?"
There it is. There's the anger and it's the first reaction that's made and sense all goddamn day. It's almost a relief. York's eyes slip closed, head bowed. "...yes."
His voice is quiet, small, and he never should've tried this in the first place. This was never a good idea, any of it.
"Jack- foxtrot. North-" he flinches at the memory of their after talk. "North isn't a part of it."
"You thought you were in love and slept with him!" Sure, he wasn't the best boyfriend--but the thought slips away as quickly as it came, forgotten, and despite his fury, he settles some, looking more grumpy than infuriated instead. He's uncomfortable in his own body, not sure what all his emotions are doing. He wants to be angry. he has to be angry. "And you weren't even going to tell me to begin with, but you got drunk."
"I was. About north, I just hadn't seen you yet and I was angry and I went out instead of trying to find you." Even then he probably wouldn't have tried too hard. "...fuck, I owe him am apology too."
"I didn't know how to say it. That's no reason to not, I should've tried. It's not their fault, mal, this is all on me being..." greedy? Selfish? Too easily enamored? "A fuckup."
"You said they knew and were okay with it." They also said he was a dumbass to not tell Malcolm. That doesn't seem like the point. "No wonder Delta wasn't jealous. He didn't need to be. He was already with you."
"I don't understand. You need to explain this in a way that makes sense. You were sleeping with them before we got together, then we got together, then you loved them and continued to see them, is that what you're saying?" He huffs out a sigh like he's letting go of some of the anger instead of increasing it. Even though he's so, so angry.
"If it made sense I would've told you when it started." But it didn't. It still doesn't and York is not a man prone to shame our regret but he's feeling both quite keenly at the moment. "I don't know. Maybe I don't love them. Maybe I don't love you maybe I'm just fucked up and lonely and clinging to anyone that'll have me or- I don't know. None of it feels the same."
It was easier to think he loved them before the thing with north. Now? Now he's not sure.
"Maybe, I said maybe." He snaps his head up to look directly at Malcolm for the first time, his eye red, the bionic replacement a perfect white. He fades to reach a tentative hand out, catching himself at the last second bake he made contact. "Because even if it wasn't real the thing with north felt different. Like I couldn't breathe without him. Like he was everything. And I always thought- I thought that's how it is with you. And it is but it's not as...overwhelming. that's probably healthier for us both.It's kind of frightening now that I think of it."
Maybe he's to bitter. Maybe he's too tired, too scared. "I do love you. I just don't know why it feels so different. But I don't love you any less. I promise."
"You love me, just not as much as you loved him. You love me like you love Loki, and Delta, and Foxtrot, but not like North. A different kind of love. A love that isn't...intense."
He can't. He can't look at York, turns away. He's angry but not angry, just...everything that feels like he should be sad, upset, in tears even, is replaced instead by...none of that. Replaced by something less than that. Something calmer. Telling him to instead be angry at York. Something doesn't feel right.
"So I'm no different than the others. We're all on the same level. But they all knew about each other, and you decided to keep it from me instead of talking to me about it. Treated me like I was special."
"Because you are. Delta, jack and lkoi could never talk to me again and it'd be awful but as long as you can still stand me I'll live happy. If I fuck this up..." Malcolm had always been special in how York looked to him, treated him. He's not the same kind of blind spot for him that delta is, but there's a lot he doesn't think about or overthinks when it comes to him. He takes a moment to breathe, to state down at his hands and catch what he's actually doing finally. Jesus.
"I'm terrified of ruining this, but not near as afraid of this working. I- I don't think I deserve good things on my life, mal, and you're one of the best things I've ever had happen to me." He huffs a soft, bitter laugh. "So I'm shooting myself in the foot every chance I get."
But he doesn't. He doesn't anymore. But he used to, didn't he? Something like a smile actually reaches his face. "We're good together. I try to be good to you."
But then York turns around and does all of this, waits forever to tell him. If this fails, he'll have succeeded in shooting himself in the foot. "What makes me different? You love those three, but then I'm on another level, and then North is--was--on another level? And what about Clair? Where does she fall in this spectrum of yours?"
"You've never hurt me like this. Not on purpose." He has to own up to the fact that he has to have hurt Malcolm badly in all this. Groveling can come later, honesty comes now.
"You are, mal. So good to me. Better than I deserve." That's obvious by how mal is at least taking to him instead of letting him pack and run like he would have otherwise. "I don't know about North. That wasn't me. It was someone I could have been but wasn't and saying something like that was a bullet to the foot. A subconscious attempt to fuck this up."
Bless the good sense he had to talk this through with his therapist first. He doubles back, takes a slow breath, and offers Malcolm his hand. "I can't trust anything about what I might think or feel about her, or what she might feel about me. I kept seeing- and she felt a life where she left the project with me. We ran away and started a family and seeing that had us both a little fucked up."
Good there's just so much all fucked up in his head, he doesn't know where to start.
"You're different because you have never wanted or expected anything from me but honesty and decency. I haven't always delivered, I know. But I want to keep trying." He swallows. "For you. Because you honestly make me happy, no strings attached. Because it's not stilted with us- we're on even ground. When I'm not being a shit. And I'm so sorry for trying to make it hard."
He doesn't know how to feel about that. Does York mean he's been trying to hurt him on purpose? Where do he and Carolina stand, exactly?
Malcolm looks at the offered hand but certainly doesn't take it. "So everyone else, they expected something else from you. They expected something else, and you still loved them for it. Love them. But they don't make you happy? How can you love anyone that doesn't make you happy?"
"More or less. Probably don't mean anything by it but they do." Except delta but he's not going there. He lets his hand drop back down to his lap, eyes following shortly. Right. "Hell, we've both always been masochists."
He's said that before. Way at the beginning when mal didn't know about how he felt. When he wasn't sure how to handle it aside from ignore and pray he'd get over it.
Maybe he should have stuck with plan A. No one got hurt in plan A.
"Maybe we should take some time to think about this. For a few days. And come back with a mediator so I don't keep putting my foot in it." Not that he'll be going anywhere else. Well. Not that he'd be going to anyone else.
"I think that's one of the first sensible things you've said all day. We can clear our heads, come back fresh. And have someone in between." Not that he likes the idea of dragging someone else into this, but hell, there are already way too many people involved.
"My therapist. She declined when I asked her to help with this conversation. Says she might be seen as biased even if she isn't." Which is entirely fair.
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Day 157 Evening
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His voice is quiet, small, and he never should've tried this in the first place. This was never a good idea, any of it.
"Jack- foxtrot. North-" he flinches at the memory of their after talk. "North isn't a part of it."
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That works.
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It was easier to think he loved them before the thing with north. Now? Now he's not sure.
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Maybe he's to bitter. Maybe he's too tired, too scared. "I do love you. I just don't know why it feels so different. But I don't love you any less. I promise."
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He can't. He can't look at York, turns away. He's angry but not angry, just...everything that feels like he should be sad, upset, in tears even, is replaced instead by...none of that. Replaced by something less than that. Something calmer. Telling him to instead be angry at York. Something doesn't feel right.
"So I'm no different than the others. We're all on the same level. But they all knew about each other, and you decided to keep it from me instead of talking to me about it. Treated me like I was special."
Day 157 Evening
"I'm terrified of ruining this, but not near as afraid of this working. I- I don't think I deserve good things on my life, mal, and you're one of the best things I've ever had happen to me." He huffs a soft, bitter laugh. "So I'm shooting myself in the foot every chance I get."
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But he doesn't. He doesn't anymore. But he used to, didn't he? Something like a smile actually reaches his face. "We're good together. I try to be good to you."
But then York turns around and does all of this, waits forever to tell him. If this fails, he'll have succeeded in shooting himself in the foot. "What makes me different? You love those three, but then I'm on another level, and then North is--was--on another level? And what about Clair? Where does she fall in this spectrum of yours?"
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"You are, mal. So good to me. Better than I deserve." That's obvious by how mal is at least taking to him instead of letting him pack and run like he would have otherwise. "I don't know about North. That wasn't me. It was someone I could have been but wasn't and saying something like that was a bullet to the foot. A subconscious attempt to fuck this up."
Bless the good sense he had to talk this through with his therapist first. He doubles back, takes a slow breath, and offers Malcolm his hand. "I can't trust anything about what I might think or feel about her, or what she might feel about me. I kept seeing- and she felt a life where she left the project with me. We ran away and started a family and seeing that had us both a little fucked up."
Good there's just so much all fucked up in his head, he doesn't know where to start.
"You're different because you have never wanted or expected anything from me but honesty and decency. I haven't always delivered, I know. But I want to keep trying." He swallows. "For you. Because you honestly make me happy, no strings attached. Because it's not stilted with us- we're on even ground. When I'm not being a shit. And I'm so sorry for trying to make it hard."
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Malcolm looks at the offered hand but certainly doesn't take it. "So everyone else, they expected something else from you. They expected something else, and you still loved them for it. Love them. But they don't make you happy? How can you love anyone that doesn't make you happy?"
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He's said that before. Way at the beginning when mal didn't know about how he felt. When he wasn't sure how to handle it aside from ignore and pray he'd get over it.
Maybe he should have stuck with plan A. No one got hurt in plan A.
"Maybe we should take some time to think about this. For a few days. And come back with a mediator so I don't keep putting my foot in it." Not that he'll be going anywhere else. Well. Not that he'd be going to anyone else.
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