I WILL SHOW LOYALTY TO THOSE EARN IT
"WHAT?!" Gil's shocked, incredulous reply echoed throughout the warehouse.
The blood in Malcolm's veins turned to ice water. He could hear his heartbeat in his head like it were the drums at a concert. His vision blurred for a moment, as flashes of that night invaded his mind like a cancer, mixing with reality.
"You have the right to remain silent."
"Please, Malcolm... Not him."
"Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law."
"You see at some point, Biology takes over."
"You have the right to an attorney."
"Go to another place, remember? Survive."
"If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you."
"Make her feel you there this time tomorrow... or I will slit her throat while you're still inside her." Malcolm squeezed his eyes closed as hard as he could.
"Do you understand the rights I have just read to you?"
"It felt good didn't it?"
"Mr. Bright?"
"I told you...Biology wins."
"Mr. Bright? Do you understand the rights I have just read to you?"
He attempted to shake the images out of his head. But he knew by now that it was useless; they were never going away.
"Malcolm!" Detective DeMarco was growing impatient.
The shout pulled Malcolm free from the flashback. He craned his neck to look over his right shoulder at the detective.
"Do you understand the rights I have just read to you?"
"Yes." Malcolm's answer was barely audible.
Gil's face was pure shock. "Bright?" There were a thousand questions in that single word, as DeMarco nudged Malcolm forward and they began walking in the direction of the warehouse entrance. J.T. hadn't moved an inch. He stood there, mouth agape, stunned.
"Hold on," Gil had started following them. "Where are you taking him?"
"S.V.D. downtown," Detective Messer responded for his partner.
"I'll be right behind you. J.T., you handle this." He pointed at the current crime scene.
Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion, yet Malcolm was positive his heart was going to burst from his chest and fly away, it was beating so quickly.
They processed the kit. Why would they process the kit?
They exited the warehouse entrance, passing Dani and the witness on their way to the Detectives' car. As Malcolm walked by her, handcuffed, the Detective's hand on his arm escorting him, Dani almost dropped her pen and notepad. Her mouth fell open. Malcolm kept his head down as they passed. But when they reached the car and DeMarco opened the back door, he shifted his glance up to her before he got in. Her expression was a mixture of surprise and terror that likely mirrored his own. They held the contact until DeMarco followed his eyeline, assumed the look meant something else, and shoved Malcolm into the back of the car.
Dani's hands began to tremble uncontrollably. She managed to say, "excuse me," to the witness before she started aimlessly walking, unsure of where she intended to go.
After a few steps, Gil grabbed Dani's arm, "My car. Now," he ordered. She obliged. He opened the passenger door for her and she all but collapsed into the seat, head in her hands. When Gil entered his side he started the car and immediately twisted in her direction. "You want to tell me what the hell is going on, Dani?"
She raised her head, her expression more guarded, "I need to talk to Malcolm."
"I'm not sure that's possible, or even a good idea right now. I need to know what's going on."
Dani continued to stare blankly out of the windshield, "I have to talk to him, Gil."
He sighed, and put the car in gear.
As DeMarco led him through the bullpen of the Special Victims Division headquarters, Malcolm could physically feel the stares of the other detectives. He had never been looked at with such revulsion before, such disgust. That's not true, his subconscious reminded him. Theirs was the same expression he'd worn every time he looked in the mirror since his release from the hospital.
They ushered him to the first interrogation room and pulled the metal chair out from under the table. Detective Messer uncuffed his right wrist. Malcolm had been in enough interrogation rooms to know to put his hands on the table so Messer could re-cuff them in front of him. The metal bracelets clanged on the steel table and the flashbacks hit him again: the feeling of Nathan shackling his wrist, the constant sound of the chains anytime he moved, the knots around his wrist as the picana shocked him. Again, he clamped his eyes shut and shook his head. DeMarco noted the action with interest.
Malcolm laced his fingers together, trying to subdue the tremors in his right hand, which had returned with a vengeance after their time spent with Nathan. Experiencing the room from this side of the table was entirely different and, quite frankly, frightening. DeMarco sat down opposite of him, file in hand, while Messer leaned against the wall close to the door. Malcolm took a slow, deep breath. Jonathon opened the file in front of him and studied the front page intently.
Intimidation first, Malcolm thought. As DeMarco continued not to speak and simply flip through the contents of the file.
After a few dramatically drawn out minutes, DeMarco finally spoke. "You're a profiler." Since there was no question in the statement, Malcolm didn't feel inclined to respond. "Formerly F.B.I. Fired due to, and I quote, 'narcissistic tendencies, complex PTSD, and fear of psychotic inclinations similar to that of your father, notorious serial killer Martin Whitley aka The Surgeon'. Wow. That's… a mouthful." Malcolm resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "You worked your whole life to get out from under your father's legacy. Harvard university. Quantico. You decided to spend your life putting away people like The Surgeon. And then they fired you, all that hard work, for nothing. That must have been frustrating"
Malcolm simply stared at him and blinked. You've got to be kidding me.
Gil and Dani arrived at the SVD building only a few minutes after Malcolm had. Gil introduced himself to one of the detectives and explained the situation. The woman left her desk and a few moments later returned with Messer.
He answered Gil's inquiry before he had a chance to ask it. "I'm sorry Lieutenant, Mr. Bright is being questioned at the moment."
"Just for a minute, please. Professional courtesy."
"I'm sorry, sir. I can't do that."
Dani had been actively staring at her feet for the entirety of the exchange, frantically racking her brain for a solution. There had to be some way she could talk to Malcolm. She stepped between Gil and the detective. "Please," she begged.
"Ma'am I'm- wait. You're Dani Powell."
She nodded.
"You're actually next on our list of people to question." Dani bit her lip and simply stared at him. "You want to talk to Malcolm? After what he did to you?" Messer seemed genuinely surprised.
Gil was actively analyzing all of Dani's reactions, especially to this question.
"Please. I need to talk to him," she pleaded.
"Well, we're mid interrogation right now. So-"
Gil interjected, "Can we watch?"
Messer eyed him for a moment, then turned back to Dani. "DeMarco's not going to filter anything. Is that something you can handle?"
Again, Dani nodded.
He looked around, as though he was trying to find someone to bail him out of this situation. No one appeared. "Okay. Follow me"
Messer opened the door to the viewing room, gestured for them to enter, then left them there to return to the interrogation. Dani crossed the room and stood in front of the one-way mirror, arms crossed. Gil gradually followed, evaluating her body language, trying desperately to put the pieces together.
Malcolm was sitting at the table, wrists cuffed, staring into the mirror he didn't know they were standing behind.
"You've been awfully stoic since we got here, Mr. Bright. Nothing you want to say?"
Actually… "May I please talk to Dani?"
Behind the glass Dani shifted uncomfortably. She had to figure out a way to talk to Malcolm, to figure this out. Gil continued to slyly observe her reactions.
"You want to talk to Dani? Oh, sure! Because we always just roll the victims in here for the rapists to see again."
"I'm NOT a-" he stopped mid sentence. Aren't you? his subconscious replied defiantly.
"Not even buying your own story are you, Bright?" the smugness was oozing out of DeMarco's words.
"Please. I'm begging you. Let me speak to Dani. Just for one minute."
"Not gonna happen."
Malcolm laid his head face down on the table for a moment. Then raised up and massaged his temples with his fingers.
"In your statement you claimed that you were burned, electroshocked, and stabbed during your captivity with Nathan Worrell. Is that correct?"
"Yes."
"That seems like a lot for one person to endure over five days."
"It was." DeMarco furrowed his eyebrows incredulously. "If you don't believe me you're welcome to inspect the plethora of scars I'm currently sporting," Malcolm retorted.
Jonathon gestured for Malcolm to indeed show him. Malcolm huffed. He undid the cuffs of his dress shirt and pushed the sleeves of it and his suit jacket up until the handcuffs hindered him. He extended his arm across the table, indicating that the detective should push it the rest of the way. DeMarco did so, revealing Malcolm's full forearm. "These would be the burns where he forced Dani to hold a four-hundred-degree soldering iron to my skin, and 'write me a message'." The scars from the tip of the tool were still a vibrant purple, as was Dani's name near the crook of his elbow.
He pulled the sleeves back down angrily and stood up. Messer immediately moved toward him to sit him back down, but DeMarco waved him off. Malcolm jerked his dress shirt out of his pants and unbuttoned it hastily. He pulled both sides apart. "The circles would be the marks from the picana; where he made Dani shock me repeatedly. Then he got pissed that we tried to escape, upped the amps, and KILLED ME." Malcolm pulled the left side of the shirt open further. "Oh and these? These are the scars from when I was medically restrained to a torture table and Nathan forced Dani to cut me multiple times with a switchblade. Culminating in him telling her stab me. That's this one here," he gestured to the one on his lower abdomen and then began re buttoning his shirt. "Did I mention my heart almost gave out a SECOND time? You know after all the blood loss from the open stab wound and having just DIED a short while earlier." Malcolm tucked his shirt back in and threw himself heatedly back into his seat.
Gil had yet to see the marks on Malcolm in person. He had seen the photos taken when they were in the hospital, but the impact of seeing the scars first hand was far more profound. He would never be able to fully comprehend the pain Malcolm and Dani had endured. He glanced at Dani, who hadn't moved a muscle, but had silent tears rolling down her cheeks.
Detective DeMarco hesitated for a moment after Malcolm sat down. "I can't imagine what that must have been like for you to deal with."
Intimidation first. Compassion Second. Malcolm recited as he sat silently.
"The physical and psychological trauma that must have caused is unimaginable. And for Dani as well. You said she was the one who did all of those horrible things to you?"
There it is. "No. I said Nathan forced her to do those things to me."
"She didn't refuse?"
"Of course she refused." Malcolm knew all of this was a tactic to get a rise out of him, unfortunately he couldn't keep himself from falling for it. "He used us against each other. He put a gun to my head and told her to comply or he would shoot. So she did."
"Still though, all of that pain inflicted by your own partner…"
Malcolm glared at DeMarco.
"Wasn't there some small part of you that resented her? For being the one to torture you over and over?"
"No."
"Part of you didn't want to return just a tiny bit of that pain? To make her understand how it felt?"
"Absolutely not."
"Get a moment alone with her. Maybe leave her with some bruises to match your scars?"
Fuck you.
"Force her to endure some of that psychological trauma you'd been dealing with?"
"NO!"
"Relieve some of the pent up stress of captivity. Make Dani feel as used as you did. That's why you raped her isn't it?"
"I DIDN'T-" again the rest of the sentence choked off in Malcolm's throat.
DeMarco flew out of his seat and leaned over the table. "Then explain to me why yours is the only DNA the kit found! Not the serial killer-rapist's. YOURS!"
Malcolm fell silent. He stared at the table, trembling in frustration and anger.
DeMarco continued, "DNA doesn't lie, Malcolm. The samples they took from Dani for the S.A.K. match your blood from the table 100%. Explain that to me."
"I can't," Malcolm whispered.
"Can't, you don't know? Or can't, you won't explain it?"
"I just need to talk to Dani."
"And I told you that's not going to happen. You had better start cooperating, Bright. If you don't you're about to spend a very long time in prison."
Malcolm stared at the table again, considering his predicament. After an extensive pause, he nodded to himself.
My penance.
He raised his head, looked DeMarco in the eyes and said, "If you're not going to let me speak to Dani, then you might as well take me there now. I'm through talking."
Dani watched as DeMarco pushed Malcolm to what she was sure would be his breaking point. When he'd accused him of raping her for revenge, she'd almost punched the glass in front of her. Malcolm's face was half rage at the accusation and half despair at the partial truth it contained. He was being tortured all over again, all to help her. Dani brought one hand up to her forehead to cover her face, as her silent tears turned to sobs. Gil wrapped his arms around her and she fell into the hug, continuing to break down.
"Talk to me, Dani. I'm begging you. Please, talk to me." Gil was terrified of what she might reveal, but the unknown was even worse.
When DeMarco threatened Malcolm with prison, Dani jerked out of Gil's embrace. No, she thought. Then she heard Malcolm's response to the threat, "... you might as well take me there now. I'm through talking."
He would go to jail before he betrayed her trust. She gently placed her hand on the glass in front of her, as though she expected Malcolm to walk over and place his there as well.
DeMarco was furious at Malcolm's response, "The guilty always resort to silence." He motioned for Messer to get Malcolm, "You want to spend the next ten to fifteen locked up? Fine. We'll start right now."
Messer jerked Malcolm up out of the chair by his arm. He uncuffed one of Malcolm's wrists again and re-cuffed them behind his back, shoving him toward the door.
"You're going to regret this moment, Malcolm," DeMarco warned as he opened the door for them to leave. When he opened it he started, surprised.
Dani was standing in the doorway.