Broken

Alone Time

Malcolm's head pounded when he became aware of his surroundings. The floor cold against the side of his face and his wrists in chains. He pushed himself over onto his back. The lightbulbs in the walls cast dull light across the room.
"Help! Help! Anybody..." He called out before a door opened in the back of the room.
"No one can hear you scream out here." John Watkins said setting up a tripod and setting a large canvas bag down next to it.
He turned on the spotlight causing Malcolm to wince away from its brightness.
"Are you sure? I'm a pretty good screamer. Had a lot of practice."
"Oh, don't be scared, Malcolm. We finally get to have some alone time together." John smiled down at him.
He set up a metal folding chair in front of him.
"So, it's all lead to this. I can't believe we're here now. Together. Ah. Can you feel it? Can you feel it in the air?" John asked as Malcolm moved to sit on his knees.
"Am I your next mission? Are you gonna starve me? Like the others? Force me to atone for my sins?" Malcolm asked his eyes wide.
"I'm finished with that work." John dismissed him.
"Oh, so you're evolving? Right in this moment? Even if that doesn't bode well for me, that really is fascinating. You killed Shannon with a knife. You took his life with your own hands. That's not your normal MO. For a serial killer to change their technique is rare. It's impressive." Malcolm told him almost excitedly.
"I don't care what you think." John spat at him.
"Of course you do. Otherwise I wouldn't still be alive, would I? There's a reason you took me. You're looking for a connection."
"We've always had a connection."
"Just like you had with my father? You needed him, didn't you? As a role model? A mentor to show you the way?" 
"I liked working with him. I'm gonna like working with you, too." He smiled widely at Malcolm.
"Well, I'm flattered, but as many people will tell you, I kind of like to work alone. Plus, I'm not a killer."
"Not yet. You just haven't gone through the trials, like I did. I emerged a new man after my trials and so will you. If you survive. You certainly like working with Lilian Russell."
"Don't talk about her." Malcolm snapped at John.
"Maybe she'll be your first." John teased him.
"Go to hell. You don't know anything about her."
John smirked at him.
"Should we talk about the past then?"
"You want to talk about the past? I had a good look at yours. That means Lily has too. The way your grandparents raised you. All the punishments. Fire and brimstone. The wardrobe where they kept you. I saw the scratches on the door. Nobody deserves that." 
"I was a difficult child."
"Is that why you had to kill your grandfather?" Malcolm asked.
"I saved him! I made sure it was quick."
"He was working on his car. You kicked out the jack. He was your first. You crushed him, then started on the others." 
"You got me all figured out, don't you?" John sneered.
"That's how I know you weren't born this way. You're a product of that home. Which means you can change. You can evolve. This is a sickness."
"It's my calling! I am a savior!"
"No. You torture and kill addicts and prostitutes because that's what your mother was. You loved her and she left you and you grew up with grandparents who drilled hate into you. You think you're an original, John. You're chapter one in the first profiling book they give new recruits at Quantico."
"At least I remember my past. What made me who I am. You don't even know who you are. You don't remember what made you. It all started right here."
"Then help me remember. We went on a camping trip. The girl I found, she was there too, right?" Malcolm asked.
"The girl? That's all you care about! Your father took care of her himself. I guess she was special... but that doesn't matter. This is about you and me, and this." John showed Malcolm a scar on his side as he crouched down in front of him.
"You stabbed me and left me for dead. I lived. Will you?"
John struck out and stabbed Malcolm in the side of his chest twisting the knife and ripping it back out. Malcolm reached up to cover his wound before falling back to his side and losing consciousness.
"Malcolm? Malcolm, wake up." Lily's voice was clear as day pulling Malcolm out of unconsciousness.
"Lily?" He muttered her name weakly.
"I'm here Malcolm."
When he opened his eyes she was there; in blue jeans and that white blouse he liked. She'd worn it to their date with JT, Tally, and Eve.
"I'm losing a lot of blood." He told her.
"Everything you need to stop the bleeding is right here." She said softly.
Malcolm got back up to his knees and ripped part of his shirt to apply pressure to his wound.
"Good." Lily smiled at him.
"That's very good. You're smart, Malcolm. Strong. You can keep yourself alive until I can find you."
"You're coming." He said it as a statement.
"Of course I am. Remember that Watkins isn't going to help you, Malcolm. He wants to confuse you; manipulate you." Her eyes pleaded with him.
"I'll remember, Lily." He nodded.
"Stay alive." She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his forehead before vanishing.
"I can't do this alone. Come back!" He called out to the empty room.
John walked back into the room with Malcolm.
"Hurts like a son of a bitch, doesn't it?"
"Yeah." Malcolm sighed.
"I floated down a river like that, fixed myself up with a rusty fish hook and some line."
"That's what I'm hearing? The river?"
"Could have used a surgeon that day, but he was less than helpful."
"Why did I do it?" Malcolm looked up at John.
"You don't remember the fight?"
Malcolm shook his head as a memory assaulted him.
"We were supposed to do this together!" John yelled at Martin in his memory.
"You and my dad were going to kill someone? The girl? I tried to save her, didn't I?" Malcolm asked him.
"You've got one hell of a hero complex. Stop asking about the girl."
"Then tell me why I stabbed you."
"It was self-defense. The chloroform wasn't working as well as it once did. You were starting to remember things. We brought you on that camping trip to take care of you for good. Your father was going to kill you."
Malcolm shook his head.
"You remember it all now, don't you?" John pushed him.
"My father is a lot of things, but he would never kill his own son."
"He had every intention to. He just lost his nerve when we got up there." John shrugged.
"So you took things into your own hands?"
"Until you became your father's son. You came at me like a feral animal."
"I'm not a killer." Malcolm insisted.
"My scar says otherwise. Face it! You're just like me. You judge, you hunt!"
"I bring criminals to justice! I protect my community and my family."
"Of course." John looked at Malcolm again as if seeing him for the first time.
"You share your father's strengths, but you also share his weaknesses."
"What's that? His sadistic megalomania or the dash of God Complex?" Malcolm asked.
"Your family. Just like Martin you love your family. They're your fatal flaw. Sacrifice will be your final trial."
Malcolm just stared at him.
"Don't worry. It won't be something you have to do; just something you have to endure. I'll do the doing." John smiled at him pulling an axe out of the canvas bag.
"No! Stop! You don't have to do this." Malcolm exclaimed.
"No, but I do. It's my calling." John turned back to him.
"I know that voice. The one inside your head. Maybe it started with your grandfather saying you were worthless. but it evolved into something more powerful, undeniable. It will never be satisfied and neither will you. I hear that voice too. From my father. I can hear him. I can see him, but I don't have to listen to him. So, don't. Don't listen to that voice." Malcolm tried to appeal to him.
"The thing is, I like the voice. It's a part of me, and right now, it's telling me to hurry."
John turned back and opened the door.
"Watkins wait! Watkins stop!" Malcolm screamed after him.
"Watkins no! Wait... It's not a river. It's the subway. We're under..." Malcolm looked up at John.
"There's no place like home." John smirked at him.
Malcolm screamed after him falling forward onto the floor.
"Malcolm. Malcolm, don't give up." Lily's voice came to him again.
"What can I do?" He muttered.
"You're smart, Malcolm."
"Baby, I don't just need a pep talk. I need... I need..."
"What you need is your father, and it's our family." Dr. Martin Whitly said appearing to his son.
"Our family is about to be slaughtered, and just look at you. Helpless. What would Lily think about this?"
"This is your fault. You brought John Watkins into our lives. Into our home. That's where we are, right? Under the house." Malcolm said.
"Not much gets passed you. A house as old as this has a lot of secrets."
"How's this for a secret? You were going to kill me."
"Okay. That's on me but come on. That's water under the bridge. Let's focus on the here and now. You need to find a way out of those." Martin gestured down to the chains around his son's wrists.
"It's a blunt procedure, but it's your only option. The diameter of the restraint is three inches. The width of your hand is five inches. All you have to do is make your hand three inches. That's just math. Time's a-wasting. Chop-chop."
Malcolm wrapped his hand around the handle of the hammer lying on the floor next to him; laid his left hand on the floor spreading his fingers out. He set the end of the hammer on the bone just under the base of his thumb raised it up as high as he could and slammed it down shattering the bone in his hand.
I awoke as an uneasy feeling washed over me then Malcolm screamed out in his sleep. His body too still. I could feel his heart racing through his chest as his breath came quick and ragged. The rest of his body was rigid, unwavering.
I moved slowly, simply spreading my fingers across his bare chest before moving my hand up to touch the side of his neck.
"Malcolm?" I whispered his name.
"Lily?" He choked out, clearly still asleep.
"I'm here, Malcolm. I've got you." I said gently.
"No. Lily. Run. Run." He muttered.
"What? Sweetheart, you're safe now. You're home, baby."
"No. No. He said... He said..." He stuttered finally moving to lay next to me and burying his face in my shoulder.
He gripped ahold of my shoulder holding me tightly to him. 
"What did he say, baby?" I asked gently.
"He said, maybe you'll be my first. I figure he meant my first kill." He looked at me his eyes filled with anxiety.
"Malcolm, he's in prison. He will be in prison for the rest of his life. Everything else is up to us."
"What if I'm a danger to you?" He asked me almost silently.
"Do you really think you can be a danger to me? We've known each other for twenty one years. We've been in love for over ten. Don't you think after all this time that I know exactly who you are?" I asked him.
"I don't even know who I am." He looked away from me.
"I do. I always have. You are the love of my life. Then, now, forever."
Malcolm burried his face in my shoulder and cried.
"You are safe with me. We're okay, baby. We're okay." I held him to me running my fingers through his hair.
"I need to tell you... I need to tell you everything."