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Malcolm Bright glances at the door for what feels like the millionth time willing away the nerves clawing at his stomach. He’s not sure quite how his mother found out about him visiting the Surgeon at Claremont, but he knows from the look he saw in her eyes when she confronted him earlier that they’re far from through with discussing it. Malcolm falls back on logic over emotions, struggling to make connections with people since that fateful night when he called the cops on his father. That was the night he met Gil Arroyo, one of the few people other than his mom or Ainsley that he actually opens up to.
Gil and Jackie are wonderful and provide the teen with a sense of normality he doesn’t get anywhere else. Unfortunately, part of providing him with normality is holding him accountable and Malcolm has no doubt his mother will have called them. He knows why it scares her. He knows why nobody wants him around Martin Whitly, but he has this in-built need to know what happened before he turned his father in. As he gets older, Malcolm’s nightmares have grown worse and it’s becoming a little like an obsession. Sixteen and obsessed with a serial killer, he thinks with a snort. Go figure.
Of course, none of this matters if he's thinking logically. Logic would tell him that he should remain miles away from Martin. Logic tells him he doesn’t want to know because it won’t change anything, it’ll just terrorise him more. But the deep place inside him that can’t move on is convinced that if he just knew the truth, knew what had happened years before, he could finally move on and leave the Surgeon behind him.
Malcolm sighs and glances down at his school books. He’s supposed to be studying. His mother sent him to his room over an hour ago and he knows better than to be procrastinating, but he can’t shake the nerves over Gil finding out. They’ve talked about visiting Martin before. He had to fight for it, but eventually the adults agreed to it if he didn't go alone. It’s the biggest rule they have for him. Knowing he’s been sneaking in to see Martin for nearly three months and successfully -he thought- paying the guards to not let his mother know what he’s been up to. A lead feeling settles in his stomach. Mr David. Of course. The older man has a soft spot for him, so he knows the guard has likely been looking out for him.
Before he can stare around his pristine bedroom for the millionth time in dread, Malcolm heard the front door close downstairs and a familiar voice. So, Gil knows. He sucks in a breath and glances down at his trembling hand. It’ll only be a matter of time until the man who’s become a father to him appears at his door.
Downstairs Gil lets himself inside and takes a long look at Jessica. She looks, well, tortured, he thinks with a sigh. That damn kid is going to shave years of all of their lives if he’s not careful. Gil isn’t quite sure how he, Jess and Jackie stumbled into this strange co-parenting situation they have going on. He suspects it’s that the kid took a shine to him and nobody had the heart to say no to Malcolm given his PTSD. Gil loves this strange family deeply, despite his wife’s intermittent misgivings.
He smiles at his friend. “How are you holding up?”
“Fine. I’m fine…” Jess’ eyes widen a fraction before she laughs awkwardly. “No I’m not. He’s been going to see Martin! Martin, the serial killer. That man’s already done so much damage and now Malcolm is obsessed he needs answers. Gil, no answer is going to help him heal. No memory can close this chapter for him. Going alone just lets that poison infect his mind further…” she shudders.
Gil nods. “I know, Jess. We’ll deal with it. I’m going to make sure Malcolm never goes sneaking into Claremont again.”
Silence stretches out in the grand hallway for a minute as Jessica scrutinizes him, eventually finding whatever she was looking for because she nods. “Thank you, Gil. Really. I know you’re busy, the last thing you really need is to be chasing over here to deal with this.”
But the truth is, they both know Malcolm doesn’t listen to anyone like he listens to Gil. He has issues with authority ever since losing his key authority figure, and he often lashes out at Jessica as though it’s her fault Martin killed all those women. The older he gets, the more Gil steps in. The Lieutenant was raised in the Latino community, where you showed some damn respect to your parents, and he’s tough but fair on both kids. Ainsley gets away with more than her brother, but she also is far less likely to go off the rails… It usually just takes a stern look or the threat of her not being able to socialize and she tows the line.
Shaking his head, Arroyo smiles. “Hey, you know I love these kids like my own. They’re mine in every way that matters, nothing will come in the way of that. You might want to make yourself scarce for a while though, the next half hour won’t be fun for anyone. Perhaps you could collect takeout with Ainsley or something.”
If Jessica is uncomfortable she doesn’t let it show. Instead she nods, clasping her hands together for a moment. “Actually, she’s in ballet class at the moment. I’ll take Adolfo and go and collect her. We can pick up dinner on the way back.”
“Sounds good.” Gil smiles softly then sighs. “But perhaps stick around for a few if you can. Malcolm needs to see a united front before I bust the kid’s butt.”
Jessica cringes. “I’m not sure you need to spank him, Gil…”
“He knows the rules. It works far better than anything else you’ve tried, and it’s enough of a contrast to Martin that it usually sticks in his memory.” Before she can answer, Gil raises his voice to a level Malcolm can’t possibly miss. “Malcolm!”
Silence stretches out for a few minutes before he hears footsteps on the stairs before they stop near the top. “Gil?” Malcolm calls uncertainly.
“Downstairs, kid. We need to talk.”
He can practically feel Malcolm cringing. “I’d rather not, Gil…”
“No, I’d imagine you don’t. I wasn’t asking. Come here, now. I’m not gonna ask again.”
With a sigh that could be heard from the top of the grand staircase, he hears Malcolm start his descent again. The kid appears looking wary. “Hi Gil…”
Gil raises an eyebrow at Malcolm. “Hi yourself. Want to tell me what’s going on?”
“Didn’t Mom already tell you?” Mal looks confused.
“She did, but I want to hear your side of the story.”
Malcolm gnaws at his lower lip. “I don’t think you do…”
“Start talking, kid…” Gil warns as his hands find his hips.
“He called me… That is… One day when we went to Claremont and you got a call from the precinct, the Surgeon… Well, he said if I gave him my number, we could talk more and he could help me remember.”
“And you gave him your cell number..?” Jessica asks in horror.
Malcolm’s shoulders hunch. “Yeah… But you don’t know what it’s like to be… trapped in my head not knowing what happened!”
Gil fights a sigh. “We’ve talked about this before, Malcolm. Gabrielle explained that there’s a reason you can’t remember, and that trying to force the memories will only do damage long term.”
The teen looks at him guiltily. “I know, but…”
“No buts, kid.” Gil squats down to his level. “You know I’ll always protect you, right?”
He receives a nod in response. “That includes protecting you from yourself sometimes. What’s the rule about visiting your father at Claremont?”
The silence he receives makes him think he’s going to have to toughen his tone until Malcolm answers softly. “No unsupervised visits…”
“Right. And how many times did you arrange unsupervised visits?”
“Gil…”
“How many, Malcolm?”
“Six?” Malcolm guesses. “I didn’t go every week, but I went to some when Mom had charity events and you were working…”
This time Gil does sigh. “Oh kid. You don’t do things in halves, do you?”
“I’m sorry…” Malcolm sounds earnest, but Gil knows his sincerity will last about as long as it takes for Martin to tempt him again.
“I know, kid, but sometimes sorry doesn’t quite cut it. You deliberately broke a rule that’s there to keep you safe, and you lied about it and kept secrets because you knew it wasn’t okay.” Gil raises an eyebrow to drive the point home. “How are we meant to trust you if you go behind our backs?”
Sure enough, Malcolm’s eyes widen in a panic. “You don’t trust me?”
“You don’t trust me?” He squeaks.
“I want to. But if you want me and your mom and Jackie to trust you, you need to be honest with us. It’s really important that you don’t keep secrets about your father, Malcolm. I’m serious. He hurt all those women and kept secrets about it and people got hurt. You could get hurt and that would really upset all the people who care about you. Understood?”
Malcolm nods sincerely. “Yes sir…”
Gil nods and stands. “I’m glad to hear that. Your mom will get you a new SIM card with a new number. You do not share this one with Dr Whitly. If you do, I will be very upset with you.”
“I won’t… I won’t keep more secrets about him, I swear…” Malcolm’s lip is wobbling and Gil knows he’s made his point. Now to drive the lesson home, he thinks wearily.
He turns to Jessica. “I know you need to go and get Ainsley, but could you speak to a phone company sooner versus later? And block Claremont’s number for the kid.”
“I can’t do it myself!” Malcolm insists, surprising Gil with how fiercely he says it.
“Not this time, kid. I’m not risking it being undone.” Gil raises an eyebrow at him again. “And I suggest you lose the attitude unless you want to feel the paddle on your butt.”
Eyes wide, Malcolm scans the room for any sign of the paddle. Gil’s never had to use it on the kid, the threat of it is usually enough for the boy.
“Alright. Let’s deal with this. Come on.” Gil leads him to the plush couch in the main lounge, ignoring the sputtered protests he hears coming from Malcolm’s lips. He’s relieved when he hears Jessica close the door quietly behind them.
He tugs Malcolm to stand between his legs as he takes a seat, leveling him with a stern look. “Remind me which rules you broke, kid.”
“I kept secrets and went to Claremont without permission…” Malcolm nibbles his lip.
“Right. You also put yourself in a dangerous situation, which we’ve talked about before.”
Malcolm groans. “Not really… Gil, Mr David was there!” the teen insists.
“I know. And you should be glad he was, or I’d be really put out with you. You’re lucky the hospital called your mother before it got more dangerous.”
Deciding that enough has been said, Gil unceremoniously tugs the child’s school slacks down and pulls him over his lap. He rolls up the right sleeve of his jumper and wraps his left arm around Malcolm then starts swatting soundly. Gil rarely talks when he starts out spanking. He finds it more effective to let Malcolm process where he is and what the outcome of misbehaving is before he scolds. If he leaves the kid too long without talking, Malcolm tends to get lost in the caverns of his minds, but if Gil balances it, it’s surprisingly effective as a learning tool.
He doesn’t speak until Malcolm is kicking and squirming and he can feel the heat coming from his boxer briefs. “I’m really disappointed, kid. I thought we were on the same page about keeping secrets.”
“We-oww! We are!” Malcolm insists in a tearful voice.
“It doesn’t seem that way. You lied to me for three months.”
“Not exactly… You didn’t ask!”
Malcolm yelps as a volley of swats find his sit spots.
“Is that a lie of omission?” Gil prompts firmly.
“Uh-h-huh! I’m sorry!” Malcolm insists with a sniffle. Not many things make the kid cry these days, but this is one of them.
“Lying isn’t acceptable, Malcolm. You don’t lie to me. You don’t sneak behind my back and you do not put yourself in danger. Especially not for Martin Whitly. Is there anything in those rules you don’t understand?” If there is something Malcolm’s unclear on, Gil doesn’t mind talking it through with him. He knows how important it is for the boy to process things, especially those that relate to his biological father.
“N-no!” Malcolm is crying softly now, shoulders shaking, and Gil knows they’re almost done.
“I’m glad to hear that. Next time -if there is a next time- you sneak to Claremont without talking to your mom, Jackie or me, I will give you a dose of the paddle. Your safety is not a joke Malcolm, and we won’t take risks with it.”
“Owww! Okay! I won’t go by myself anymore!” Malcolm insists through his tears. “I’m sorry…”
Gil tilts him forward and lasts a dozen stinging spanks on his sit spots, then stops to rub his back in soothing circles. He knows the poor kid’s butt must be on fire, although it’s worth every swat if it keeps Malcolm safe. “Alright kiddo. All done. All forgiven. Shhh now, you’re alright…”
Within a few minutes, his arms are full of a teary teenager and Gil rubs his back silently, letting the kid get all his emotions out. Eventually Malcolm’s tears slow, and Gil glances down at him with a smile. “Next time, let’s have ice cream after school instead of a fallout. Deal?”
Malcolm nods and wipes at his eyes. “Deal. I hate that… Can… Can we still have ice cream?”
Gil chuckles. “I think your mom and Ainsley are bringing back noodles soon.” It’s an easy meal for the kid, especially when he’s upset. “You think you’ll have room if we have a couple of scoops?”
Eyes glittering hopefully, the kid nods. It’s their post-discipline tradition these days. Gil might be hard on him when he’s messed up, but he tends to make a point of cheering him up again after with an ice cream from the vendor around the block.
Gil nods and gives him a squeeze. “C’mon then, let’s go. We just about have time before Ainsley finishes ballet class. Why don’t you change into something more comfortable and wash your face?”
Malcolm’s up like a rocket, tugging his slacks up with a wince before hurrying upstairs to get ready. Gil texts Jessica to let her know they’re going to have an ice-cream in the park. No point keeping secrets when he’s just busted the kid for it, after all. Besides, maybe Malcolm will talk to him more about whatever’s triggered this latest obsession with remembering his past. He stands and stretches, texting Jackie and then sliding his phone into his jacket pocket before heading towards the front door to wait for Malcolm. The kid’s downstairs in record time, even putting on a scarf and coat to protect him from the Fall weather in New York. Gil smiles and opens the door, slinging an arm round the kids shoulder for a moment. Malcolm begins to talk animatedly, sore backside forgotten as he soaks up his surrogate father’s attention. Gil’s under no illusions that they’ll be revisiting this again soon but now he savors the moment, listening to his kid chatter and breathing in the fresh air.