Malcolm lay beaten and sore on the ground as the sound of the gunshot faded in the alley and the ringing in his ears subsided. The murderer of his beloved Rebecca lay only yards from him bleeding out onto the pavement. Cautiously he picked himself up off the ground revolver still in hand; wiping blood from his eyes he slowly made his way to the man lying on the ground. The man looked at him only with fear in his eyes; it wasn't long before he died. Malcolm stood there frozen staring at the man before him. Panic started to rise;
"Oh God what have I done?"
After a few minutes he ran. Malcolm ran from the scene, blood from the wound above his eye obstructing his vision once again, he stumbled a few times before making it back to his car. Once on the road, Malcolm calmed just a little, but found his thoughts kept racing…
"Had anyone heard the shot?"
"Had anyone heard the scuffle he had with the guy before he shot him?"
"Had anyone seen him flee the scene and leave the body behind?"
He hadn't attempted to move the body; But it's the Glades would anyone care? "Oh God Where's the gun?" Patting down his coat; Malcolm tried to calm himself down, but each passing second he felt more panicked and worried. Then he saw the body again and the horrible wound in the man's side, and all the blood, oh god the blood. Malcolm felt the bile rise in his throat as he hurried to pull the car to the side of the road. He had just enough time to stumble from driver's seat to the back fender of his sleek black car before he bent over and vomited on the shoulder. Along the dark road no one would see him nor stop to see if he was alright so he slid down the side of the car near the wheel well, taking deep breaths he tried to get his stomach under control.
Once he felt able to travel again he pulled himself up, got back into the car and continued on his journey home. He wanted to see Tommy, but knew he couldn't stay. He needed to get away for a little while, let the investigation he knew was coming burn out and try to get his head straight. He called his money manager and told him to bring as much cash as he could get at this time of night. Returning home to his mansion he left Tommy to sleep and ran to the bedroom to get changed and clean up. He stood in front of the bathroom mirror inspecting his wounds then attempted to scrub the blood from his hands and face. As he scrubbed watching the red swirl down the drain the vision of the guy dead in the alley returned; along with the nausea. Within seconds he was on his knees vomiting into the toilet, trying to be as quiet as possible so as not to wake Tommy. Ten minutes later he rose from his position and finished cleaning his hands and doctoring his wounds.
Once changed and a bag packed he looked in on Tommy who was thankfully still sleeping soundly, without a word he slipped into his room and gave his son a light kiss and a silent goodbye; tears slipping from his eyes running down his cheeks. Then he went downstairs to finish what arrangements were needed to keep Tommy safe. His money manager showed up not long after and demanded to know what was going on. Malcolm only offered that he had to leave to get away from Starling City and get his head straight. He didn't know when he would come back or if he ever would, time would tell. And with that Malcolm left Starling City, bound for a place unknown to meet people only known as assassins.
Malcolm would return a changed man, and things would never be the same.
TBC?