don't get me wrong () prodigal son SLOW UPDATES

Thirty Seven

And she had, because when she got there and banged on the doors there was no response. Her breaths were ragged as she leaned against the metal doors, eyes burning with the cold. Her fingers ached around her keys, as she picked out Malcolm's and jammed it into the door. It opened quickly as she threw herself in, locking it. Theodora scrambled up the stairs, throwing her keys on the island before leaning against it. She held her head in her hands, taking a deep breath.

Newspaper's littered the countertops, most from The Surgeon's reign but a few were new. Theodora wandered to the other side, squinting down.

Tests come back. The mysterious women in the woods is identified as Jay Fletcher, who went missing over ten years ago.

Theodora blinked slowly, moving to the other one.

Closure: Jay Fletcher, mother of one, finally found.

"Closure?" She mumbled, drops of red landing on the thin paper. She backed away, wiping her face. She ran to the bathroom, staring at herself in the mirror. Her lip was cut, and her nose was bleeding.

Footsteps echoed up the stairs, the door slammed. Theodora grabbed the glass soap dish, peaking her head out of the bathroom.

There was a blur of someone and she threw the dish, it smashing against the back wall. Malcolm spun, wide eyes landing on Theodora.

"Oh my god." He whispered rushing forward, "What happened?"

"I think someone was following me."

"No shit!" His voice raised frantically, "What were you doing walking alone—"

"I am an adult, I can walk wherever I like! I'm fine, I'm here."

"You could've been killed!" His eyes were so wide, so panicked yet eerily calm. "What if—"

"Nothing happened—"

"You're bleeding!" He yelled, causing her to freeze. "You're lip is cut and you're nose is bleeding— your eye is turning black!"

"Don't yell at me."

"Why did you leave the hospital!"

Theodora took a deep breath, "Because of you! Because you told that man that he was going to die just to get information!"

"It's for a murder case! We need to get to the truth!"

"What if I don't want to truth!" She yelled, eyes burning.

Malcolm stopped, confusion laced in his eyes. "What?"

"I shouldn't of said that— no, that's not what I meant."

"Theo."

"I didn't mean to say that—"

"Theodora!"

She stared at him, you look just like her.

"Stop."

"Stop what!"

Theodora took a shaky breath, refusing to look at him. His eyes, they were so dark. Usually what was piercingly bright were dull, and in a moment of fright they reminded her of his father's.

"He implied it."

"What?" He mumbled, "What are you talking about?"

"He implied that he killed her."

Malcolm fell silent, brows knitted together. She grabbed one of the two newspapers on the counter and threw it at him. He caught it as it drifted down, skimming it. She then picked up one on The Surgeon and held it up for him, "He looked me in the eyes and told me I looked just like her."

"Theo—"

"Theodora Jay Fletcher. That's how you introduced yourself to me." She repeated, staring at Malcolm. "You sound just like her."

His face fell, "H-he told you that?"

"You shouldn't dig for the truth. Neither of you. You won't like what you find."

Malcolm watched her, connecting the dots.

"No. No." He mumbled, crumbling up the paper and throwing it to the ground. "He's lying."

"He said I sounded just like her."

He glanced at her, eyes filled with panic. "Not you, too. There was only 23."

She shook her head, a sob escaping her lips. "What if he's telling the truth?"

Malcolm ran up to her, engulfing her into a hug. "He's not. Don't listen to him."

"I can't help it." She sobbed, "She went missing weeks before he was caught. Gil said the security camera of where she had been was tampered with—"

"I'll get her case. I don't care, I will and we'll go through it together."

"Gil will never—"

"I'm sorry I yelled." He cut her off, "I'm sorry about everything tonight." He stepped away, pulling something out of his suit pocket. "But Rodger gave me the SD card, containing the thing he didn't want us to know."

Theodora pursed her lips, "He's gonna hate you even more than before."

He shrugged, "Most people do."

"Are we supposed to go to the station now?"

He made a face, staying silent.

"Give me five minutes." She sighed, turning for the bathroom. Instead, a hand grasped her arm and yanked her backwards.

"Tell me what happened."

"What?"

"When you starting walking home."

She frowned, "I was walking— I lost my phone, by the way. But I saw someone, that's when you called. I kept walking and then they were on me."

He wiped her lip, staring at her. "I'm sorry."

"I know you're still mad."

"What?" His voice went high, "Absolutely not."

Theodora swatted his hand away, "Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

She rolled her eyes, "I'll be back in a second."

Theodora walked to the bathroom, closing the door with a click. She turned the shower on, the noise of the water soothing. She grabbed a cloth and wet it, wiping her face down.

She gently dabbed the blood away from her lip and nose, then began to scrub her makeup off. Theodora sighed, staring at her reflection. She looked tired, but not the crazy tired that Malcolm had.

"I'm getting there, though." She mumbled bitterly, throwing the cloth into the sink. Theodora rubbed her stinging eyes, letting out one sob before pushing those thoughts aside, burying them once again. Her hands undid her two braids, letting her hair fall down in waves. She stood up, turning the shower facet off and swung open the door. "Give me a jacket."

"Pardon?"

"I'm cold. Where's one of your jackets."

Malcolm snorted walking to his room, returning with a grey trench coat. She yanked it out of his arms and put it on, ignoring his gaze as she did.

"What are you looking at?"

"Nothing."

She huffed, marching towards the front door. "We should go."

Malcolm agreed, following her down the steps and into the dark, eerily quiet night.