. : HELLACIOUS : .

The Words

Malcolm flagged down a waitress like a man starved. "You want something to eat? A sandwich? A horse?"

"I'll take a float."

They aimed for normal and shot somewhere close. Fleur's disappearance was still fresh on their minds, everything else seemed relatively... small.

Nestled in a private corner of Milk Maude's, the hot blooded Human and the world weary D'Jinn laid their cards out on the table and squared up.

A cup of coffee and a root beer float sat between them.

"Maybe I should explain myself." Malcolm began. "Maybe I should make some things about myself clear."

"Okay."

"You don't have to agree. I just want you to understand."

"Okay."

It was another ten minutes before he spoke again. His mouth opened and closed like a mute until the words came.

"Before he died, Sherwin and I were-... we were close. We'd known each other since primary school. Great friends. Inseparable. At least, when my family was in town for the season."

Brothers, they thought.

"Daisy came into the picture later than the rest of us, her folks moved into town at the end of second year. Junior year, really. I'm not saying she upset the balance, she didn't upset anything, but things...things changed. You know, how they normally do."

"And they got together and that was great." He stressed 'great' like he was chewing beef jerky. "Boy-meets-girl, fireworks, family, endgame. You know the drill."

It's so obvious, Kash thought. He was jealous of Sherwin.

Daisy's wonderful, who wouldn't be?

"Well, a few years after they get married, Fleur was born and she's like the best of Sherwin and Daisy combined. I told myself it was a done deal but there were still these... lingering.... feelings, and I just couldn't hold em in anymore, so my dumbass calls Sherwin over for a heart-to-heart even though I knew it was late and I knew the cops weren't looking to make friends, and yet he still left his wife and his kid at home so he could make sure I was feeling alright. I don't know who's the bigger idiot, me or him." He laughed into his hands.

What a good friend.

"The kicker is Sherwin knew how much I loved boxed wine, it was all we could afford at the time. An entire gallon ran for like, twenty cents. It was cheap swill, basically. So on his way over to my house, it's nine at night, he stops by the store to buy some for me." 

The smile loses its peace. 

"But before he can even get inside he's stopped by these rookie cops who confused him with another criminal they were out looking for. Sherwin didn't look anything like him, but I guess they just wanted some fun that night."

Malcolm swallowed hard, paused, drank his coffee, replaced the cup.

"They started asking him some questions. He answered as best he could. One of them noticed this wad of paper in his pants pocket and asked him about it. I think they thought it was probably some damning evidence, Lord knows what they thought."

He met Kash's gaze.

"You wouldn't know this, but Sherwin had a childhood stutter he was embarrassed about. Absolutely hated it. So he wrote letters instead. Poured his thoughts out on paper. Kept a notepad with him wherever he went. Like a second arm. And I'm pretty sure that letter in his pocket was addressed to me."