Author's Notes: So, I was doing some plotting whilst planning for my trip to DC next month, and it occurred to me that a) I hadn't done anything about Malcolm's redemption arc in a while and b) the story title fit Malcolm and Tommy as much as it did Gideon, Slade, and Grant. With regards to Eleanor, she's made appearances in several of my Torchwood stories as well as a few Captain America/Avengers stories. Short explanation … she nearly took her life after her husband and four sons were all killed in the American Civil War. She met Dite, an alien being who can only survive within a host. Dite offered her a deal … be her host for a certain amount of time, to see that her own life didn't have to end with the lives of her boys. If, after five years, Eleanor still felt the same, Dite would leave her and Eleanor could end her life if she so chose. Obviously, Eleanor realized that she could always mourn her boys … but she could still love and still had something to offer other people. Eventually, Dite chose a new host and allowed Eleanor to live out the rest of her life as she saw fit. She has no special training as a therapist, just the school of hard knocks. As for Malcolm, he still has a long way to go, and in truth, he'll never fully be the man he was before Rebecca's death … but he's better than he was. He has to bring the two parts of himself (Rebecca's husband/Tommy's father and the Dark Archer) into alignment. So. In this chapter, Malcolm takes another step forward in his redemption; and Tommy takes another step forward in forgiving his father. Originally, Grant was supposed to show up, but his section stalled, so I've copied and pasted that into another document, possibly to be used at a later date. Hopefully, Oliver and Slade will be coming face to face in the next chapter (crosses fingers, toes, and all other appropriate body parts).

Chapter Six

Lost Boys

Un-named Fortress in India

Same Time

Early Morning Local Time

One of the first things he learned, once he was permitted to leave his quarters for something other than meals, was that everyone had a job here, and everyone served each other. Even Kali … rephrase, especially Kali. As temporary site administrator, she made sure that they had what they needed, whether that was access to the food stores or access to a healer. What surprised him was when he entered the common room a few weeks after his awakening to find an unfamiliar woman sitting with Kali at one of the rare round tables in the common room. Kali noticed his arrival and beckoned him over, saying as he approached, "Eleanor, this is the man I mentioned, Malcolm Merlyn. Malcolm, this is Eleanor … she's a therapist on loan to us."

Malcolm froze … therapist? Kali smiled a bit maliciously, saying, "Yes, a therapist. You desperately needed therapy after your wife was murdered, and didn't get it. You're getting it now. No arguments, that's one of the terms of your eventual release." Malcolm continued to stare at her in shock, because he hadn't needed a therapist then, and he didn't need one now (her final sentence wouldn't register in his mind until several hours later). Kali's voice softened, gentled, as she told him, "You do need a therapist, Malcolm … you went through something horrific, and you need someone neutral to talk to. You've started accepting responsibility for the horrors you created … now you need to start healing from the horrors inflicted upon you when Rebecca was murdered and when people whom your wife worked so hard to help walked past her like she wasn't important."

Malcolm flinched, because he'd been trying so damn hard to forget that part. It was bad enough that his Rebecca was gone, never to return, and that Tommy was dead by his own father's hand … but to remember that Rebecca died alone, that no one would even try to help her? He asked hoarsely, "And what would she know about it?" He honestly wasn't trying to be an ass, even as he flinched at his own question … but the more time he spent here, the more horrified he was by what he'd become, by his actions against people he'd once loved (still loved, in the cases of Tommy, Oliver, and Thea). What did this woman know about unleashing the sort of hell he had? Kali was one thing … she'd done horrific things herself. But this Eleanor? What could she know?

Kali opened her mouth, but Eleanor silenced her by placing a hand on her wrist. For the first time, Malcolm got a good look at her. She was about ten to fifteen years older than he was, but apparently had taken very good care of herself. Statuesque and blonde, she evaluated him with a quiet, assessing gaze. Malcolm grew ever more uncomfortable under the steadiness of that gaze. At last, she smiled and said in a gentle voice, "Kali tells me that it's best to be honest with you, as you're an accomplished liar and so can detect a lie yourself."

Malcolm would have winced, but she was correct on both points. Eleanor went on, "The truth is strange, but I suspect given our current circumstances, it won't be that hard to believe. Despite my appearance, I am a very old woman. I have seen and done more things than you can imagine. I buried my husband and all four of my beautiful boys during the War Between the States, and I have lived through twenty-nine American presidents, as well as two World Wars. Whatever you've seen, whatever you've heard, whatever you've experienced, I can take. You only need the courage to open your mouth." They both ignored Kali's muttered, 'trust me, he has plenty of courage in that department,' Malcolm because he was still processing what Eleanor said about living through twenty-nine US presidents, and he had no idea why Eleanor was ignoring her.

She was far from the first long-lived individual he'd met … Ra's, after all, lived many centuries. But … his instincts told him that this woman never went near a Lazarus Pit, probably didn't even know what it was. She also seemed to be fully human. He … lost his train of thought as Eleanor said quietly, "Malcolm … let go. Stop calculating and overthinking and overanalyzing. You've been doing that ever since your wife was taken from you, and that's hurt you as much as it's hurt other people, including both of your children. Let go."

He would have asked, 'let go of what,' but she'd already told him. The trouble was, things weren't that easy. She added in a gentle voice, "You don't have to start with something big, child. Sit down. Start with … start with telling me about your wife. How often since her death have you talked about her, about the woman you fell in love with and married?" He did as directed, ignoring the 'child,' and sat down at the table. The truth was, he couldn't remember the last time he had an actual conversation with anyone about Rebecca, aside from his argument with Tommy when he wanted to shut down her clinic (a memory that brought a fresh stab of grief once more). But that wasn't about her, not really.

"She hated roller coasters … really, she hated anything that turned her upside down," he began, laughing a little at himself, that those were the first words out of his mouth about her in so long. Eleanor smiled at that, her eyes crinkling at the corners, and he went on, "It was never the speed. She loved fast rides. She just hated the loop-de-loops on roller coasters. That's actually how we met … we'd both gone to Knott's Berry Farm with groups of our friends. We stopped at the same bench, me to write a note to myself about an idea I'd had for what would become Merlyn Global and Rebecca because she hated roller coasters. She asked me what I was doing … and that was where it all began. I asked her to marry me three months later."

Even now, more than thirty years later, he could see her in his mind's eye, smiling up at him as the sun warmed them both, could feel the weight of the backpack on his shoulders. But then, the reality came crashing down on him once again … his Rebecca was gone. The grief, never truly gone, washed over him like a tidal wave. If he wasn't already sitting down, he would have collapsed from the sorrow that overwhelmed him in that moment … and guilt. He should have been there.

The hatred he'd directed at the Glades for so long boomeranged, and self-loathing took its place. Damn the office, damn his responsibilities to the company, he should have been there with her! He had a responsibility to her, he should have gone to the Glades when she called! He bit down hard on a knuckle, something he hadn't done since he was a child, trying to stifle his sobs. He'd thought he had no more tears left to shed for the wife he'd failed so badly, that the only things left were rage and guilt. He was wrong. Yet again.

A small callused hand covered his on the table, saying softly, "Let yourself grieve, Malcolm. Stop poisoning yourself, stop punishing yourself. Maybe there were things you should have done, but the person most responsible was the one who pulled the trigger. He is to blame for Rebecca's murder." Malcolm closed his eyes as tears leaked from their corners, biting down hard enough on his knuckle to draw blood, but it didn't matter, because she was wrong. He was responsible too, because he wasn't there for Rebecca when she needed him most.

And then Kali was carefully prying his hand away, Eleanor shifting to sit beside him as she slipped her arm around his shoulders, murmuring, "You couldn't have gotten to her in time, Malcolm. And even if you'd been there, nothing would have changed. Things could have in fact been worse. Rebecca's death wasn't your fault. Carry your own sins, not the sins of others." She drew his head to rest on her shoulder, allowing him to cry into her blouse. He was vaguely aware of Kali cleaning and wrapping his hand, before resting her head against his shoulder, and Eleanor whispering, "Now you can begin to heal, child."

DSDSDSDSDSDS

Afterlife

Same Time

Tommy Merlyn stared in shock at his weeping father. He'd taken a break from annoying Joe Wilson … and came back to this. For once, his mind wasn't spinning about, 'why could I never get through to him?' No, he was stunned to see his father sobbing in a strange woman's arms … and even more shocked to hear that his father blamed himself for his mother's murder. But when he thought about it, it made perfect sense. His father never liked the idea of his mother's clinic in the Glades, not because he thought less of the people there … no, that came later. He always feared for his wife's safety, and to his frustration, she would never accept any protection, arguing that it would make it harder for the denizens of the Glades to trust her. For the first time, Tommy realized his mother was wrong. In the years since he joined her, they'd never really discussed … well, so many things. Including why she resisted all of her husband's attempts to protect her.

If he could go back in time (as the Grant Wilson from the future had done), he would try to convince his mother otherwise … that protection for her also extended to the people she would try to help. But … look at how things turned out for that version of Grant Wilson? He ended up wiping himself out of existence with his actions (on the other hand, would that be such a bad thing? What would a version of Tommy Merlyn, who never lost his mother, and by extension, his father … what would he look like?)

"That's a dangerous game, Tommy … I know, I know you're hurting right now. But even though things ended up working out for Grant in the long run as things stand now, that doesn't mean it will in every instance. I've run a few scenarios myself, to see if going back in time would end up helping Oliver and Slade," Shado said quietly, returning from her conversation with Oliver. Judging from her tone, things didn't work out so well, and Shado confirmed this a moment later, saying, "Every time I tried to 'help,' either of my boys would die. Sometimes, even both."

He noticed that she didn't mention her own survival, though he wasn't entirely surprised. She loved Slade and Oliver … seeing what they both went through after her death broke her heart over and over again. As to her advice, Tommy wasn't really surprised … but he wished, nonetheless. He wished his mother never died, he wished his father hadn't become the strange, distant man he was when he came back from Nanda Parbat. Now, he was starting to understand that his father never really stopped loving him … but his hatred for those who let Tommy's mother die and her murderer was stronger than his love for his son, their son. And he knew that, because for the first time in more than twenty years, he was starting to see signs of the dad he'd lost at the same time as his mother's death. He said softly, "I missed him so much, you know."

Shado wrapped her arm around his waist, leaning against his shoulder as she murmured, "I know. I also know that no matter what you may have said, you never stopped loving him, either. In fact, the fact that you were so very angry shows that. You wouldn't have been so angry with him if you didn't love him. If you didn't still love him, you would have been indifferent … you wouldn't have wanted to hurt him as he hurt you." Tommy closed his eyes, shutting out the image of his weeping father. Because Shado was right. Then again, as his best friend found out on the island, she usually was.

And because now, he could bear to hear the answer, he asked again, "Why was I not enough for him? Why could I never get through to him?" Shado sighed softly, her arm tightening around him. Not for the first time, Tommy wondered how he could feel such things if he didn't have a corporeal body. His mother and Shado tried to explain it on several occasions, but almost broke all three of their brains. It just was, and maybe one of these days, he'd be able to accept that. Today, however, was not that day.

"Because there was something missing in him, Tommy. In him, not in you. And … it wasn't even missing, really, but buried. I think, in the beginning, it was a misguided way to protect you," Shado answered. Tommy looked at her, startled, and Shado nodded, continuing, "Think about it, Tommy … what better way to protect your son from the darkness that is taking you over, a darkness you believe you need to make sure no more Rebeccas die, than to shut him out?"

Tommy closed his eyes, because when he thought of the man whom his father was before his mother's murder? Yeah, that's exactly the sort of thing he would have done. He opened his eyes, saying softly, "I get that. But I would have rather had a dark father than none at all." He paused, thinking of his recent activities, before adding, "And I still think Joe Wilson or Kane Wolfman or whatever he's calling himself right now is an idiot. He may be justified in his anger with his father, but he's still an idiot."

Shado giggled (actually giggled!) before answering, "And I agree with you. So. Tell me all about what you've been doing in Austria, and then we'll check on your mum." Tommy laughed in turn, because he'd been having a lot of fun in deviling Joe Wilson. But as he began to explain his appearances in that crypt while the younger Agent Wilson was working, something was beginning to edge to the front of his mind, a parallel between his father and Oliver. If Shado was right, his father began shutting him out as a misguided way of protecting him … all this time, he'd assumed that Oliver never told him about being the Hood because he hadn't trusted Tommy. But what if Oliver was trying to protect him as well?

TBC

Additional Author's Notes: One thing that has always struck me about Malcolm … some of what twisted him into what he became was his own guilt over Rebecca's murder. There are three components (and Lord, now I sound like our priest) to it: he can't forgive the people in the Glades, he can't forgive himself, and he can't blame Rebecca. Part of Kali and Eleanor's job is to untwist it … but untwisting and remorse is only part of the process of atonement. A dear friend, my brother by mutual adoption, once put it this way … redemption also includes removing the habits that led to a person's fall. That's going to be the hardest part, I think.