~*~Disclaimer=me no own~*~ This is angst with a capital A! But I was bored which is why I wrote this-just don't ask!~*~
~Now I will tell you what I've done for you

50 thousand tears I've cried~

Malcolm looked around the grey emotionless walls of the room that had once been his own, full of memories of nights shrouded by tears and blood stains
long since dried on the carpet.

~Screaming Deceiving and Bleeding for you

And you still won't hear me

(I'm going under)~

The grey walls and clinical furniture reminded him of his father. A cold,
hard calculating man. Malcolm's blood hadn't fallen idly, it was at his fathers hand that so many bruises went unexplained and so many cries and
pleas went unheard.

~Don't want your hand this time I'll save myself

Maybe I'll wake up for once~

Not any more. He was fed up of it all, of the lies, the pain, the hate.

~Not tormented daily defeated by you

Just when I thought I'd reached the bottom

I'm dying again~

For a moment his courage failed, he could see Hannah waiting for him
outside and for a brief moment he wished he'd never told her, never let
anyone know what going on. He was ashamed, ashamed he'd let it happen.

~I'm going under

Drowning in you

I'm falling forever

I've got to break through

I'm going under~

"Where do you think you're going?"

Malcolm whipped round and came face to face with his father.

"I'm leaving," he said boldly, feeling himself lose heart.

"No you're not, you're going to stay here-you'll go to the Navy if I have
to chain you to the boat!" His father snapped, gripping Malcolm's wrist
tightly. "You will not disgrace this family!"

"I won't go, I want to join Starfleet," said Malcolm stoutly trying to
wrench his wrist free.

"Starfleet!" his father exclaimed in disbelief. "I don't believe what I'm
hearing! No son of mine will join Starfleet!"

He yanked the bag from Malcolm's wall and chucked it back onto his bed.

"Besides, you have nowhere to go," said his father smoothly. "No one will
take you in."

"I'm staying at Hannah's," said Malcolm feeling himself shrink in his fathers presence, head bowed, shoulders rounded, arms locked by his sides.

~Blurring and Stirring the truth and the lies

So I don't know what's real and what's not~

"That little whore!" Stuart Reed spat. "She isn't worthy enough to clean
the dog shite from my boots!"

Malcolm felt his old fear taking over and his new found courage failing,
his father had him, his father had hold.

"You think it'll all be happy families?" Stuart asked, almost nose-to-nose with him. "After a week at most you'll be crawling back on your hands and knees begging for us to take you back after the little bitch has dropped
you for not being what she expected!"

"It's not like that, she wouldn't do that!" Malcolm tried.

"She's playing with you Malcolm, toying with your emotions, enticing you
away from your duty-to me, to this family," Stuart told him, his voice
eerily calm.

~Always confusing the thoughts in my head

So I can't trust myself anymore

I'm dying again~

"We're just friends," Malcolm told his father, feeling his anger growing.
"She and Mrs Tarry are more like family than you ever were!"

~I'm going under

Drowning in you

I'm falling forever

I've got to break through~

"You listen to me son!" Stuart began angerilly.

"Son?" Malcolm laughed. "You have no right to use that word! None at all!"

Stuart punched him. He felt his nose drip with blood.

"You feel better now?" He asked, "Feel like a big man? Tough and hard?
You're a bloody coward that's what you are."

~So go on and scream

Scream at me I'm so far away~

"How dare you! I've raised you all these years, put clothes on your back
and food into your ungrateful little stomach!" Stuart yelled.

But Malcolm found he didn't care anymore, he wiped the blood away.

~I won't be broken again

I've got to breathe I can't keep going under~

Very calmly he picked up his bag.

"One day you're going to die a very sad, lonely, old man and I hope to God
I'm there to see it. You see 'Dad' and I use that term in it's loosest
possible form, you don't deserve a family. You're a coward who uses his
fists to get his way-not any more. As far as I'm concerned I have no father, I have a bully with fists, after all the shit I've taken from you, I should tell the world. But rotting away in a jail cell would be too good
for you. I despise you. You took away my life, crushed every hope and
dream. Not any more. I hope you rot in hell."

Stuart tried to drag him back into the room, Malcolm shoved him out the way
and walked out the house.

"Jesus! What happened?" Hannah exclaimed, seeing his face. "What did he do
to you?"

"Doesn't matter, lets get out of here," said Malcolm shrugging it off.

Hannah nodded, Malcolm took one last look at the house where his spent his days and nights full of an ever growing torment, pain, agony and a small
part of him wondered:

'Did he ever love me?'

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