Malcom slowly sat up, hearing the hushed whispers of Thea and her brother. His whole body ached, but he shoved everything deep down. Every word they said, he could hear. Weren't even trying to be subtle, it seemed. They also hadn't noticed he was awake, which suited him perfectly. He stood slowly, wincing with each movement. Ra's torture had left his feet burned and blistered and raw. Grabbing his shoes, he snuck out of Thea's apartment, making sure to remain as silent as possible. No use alerting them to what he was doing, especially when they hated him so, and wanted him dead. Slipping on his shoes, he left the building, and headed back to where he was staying to gather his belongings and find somewhere else to live. Starling was no longer his home, and while he loved Thea with all his heart, he no longer wanted to see her.
He leaned his head against the airplane window, a few tears sliding down his cheeks. It was all his fault, he knew that. Trying to avenge Rebecca, to tamp down the hurt, to build a relationship with Thea, to trying to be a good father for Tommy- all of it went so horribly wrong. The tears fell faster as he remembered the time he had with Rebecca, being loved and cared for, when his biggest worry was raising Tommy right and running his company. The company which he had sold, and set aside a good portion of the money in Thea's banking account. He knew she wouldn't want it, much less the message he left, but it was all he could do for her. They wouldn't miss him, and he could hopefully start fresh in a new country, where no one knew who he was, or what he did.
He wouldn't start up a new company, like Merlyn Global Group, but he would get a job. He certainly had the experience. His money wouldn't last forever, but he had enough assets to last him quite a few years, and he could transfer what he didn't take in cash from Starling National to his new account. Malcolm could hope the earthquake in the Glades hadn't made the news outside the US, because he really did not want to be recognized because of it. It was clearly a bad call on his part, and he wished he never went through with it. Not just because it cost Tommy's life, but it did nothing to avenge Rebbeca nor to honor her memory. He would have to do that on his own.
At some point in the flight, Malcolm fell asleep, listening to the steady hum of the engines. Hours later, the plane landed. He had no idea where. He'd told the ticket agent to give him a ticket out of here and tell him which gate, and he didn't care where. Stepping out of the plane and into the busy airport, he noticed it was early afternoon, and raining. Taking a moment to read the signs and orient himself, it registered that he was in Cardiff, Wales. Good a place as any to start anew, he supposed. It was far enough from Washington, Nanda Parbat, and Corto Maltese that they wouldn't think to look for him here. Grabbing his bag, he headed towards border control and immigration. It would be a bit of a long process but he had all his papers and identifications, as well as the means for any additional governmental processes that came with immigrating to a new country.
Just as he was about to reach the desk, a bright white light flashed in front of him. He couldn't stop in time, and fell through. To where, he wasn't sure, but there was a big water tower in front of him, and he was near a body of water. Malcolm looked around in confusion, but the light had disappeared, and he was just among a group of - tourists? A bunch of them had cameras and were going in and out of a building labelled as a tourist office. Perfect, he'd go there to figure out where he was. He made sure his bag was secure, and headed to the office. Stepping inside, he was hit with a blast of cool air, making him shiver with the temperature difference. It seemed he ended up here on a rather warm day.
Before he had time to say anything, everyone was disappearing from the office by a young man in a sharp suit. "What on earth-" he wondered. Just then, the young man appeared at his side and whispered, "You'd better come with me." He nodded, worried that he had accidentally gotten into trouble. The man pressed what appeared to be a communications device in his ear, and spoke. "I have him, Jack." So there was someone named Jack. A boss, perhaps? A higher up? He could negotiate, pay them to let him go-
They stepped into an elevator and headed downwards. It was pretty dim despite the overhead lighting, leaving him to wonder if they were underground. The elevator jolted to a stop, and they stepped out, the younger man leading Malcolm through a giant cogwheel door. It opened, and a loud siren blared, announcing their entry. Malcolm took in his surroundings, in awe of it all. Overhead, what appeared to be a pteranodon, swooped about and screeched. He also noticed the base of the water tower. So he was underground. Made sense. He continued to follow the younger man, up a flight of stairs to a different office. There was an empty chair on both sides of the desk. He was told to sit in one, and that Jack would be along in a moment. Then he disappeared. A voice sounded from behind him, sounding suspiciously familiar, but with a hint of amusement and warmth.
"Hello there," the voice said. The man came into view, and Malcolm was face to face with himself? But with a strange fashion sense, though he had gorgeous hair. He stood, hiding the pain that the action brought. He hadn't been able to properly tend his wounds, and with all the walking and the flight, he was sore. "Sit," the man said. "I know you're in pain." He took a seat opposite Malcolm, and held out a hand. "Who are you?" the man asked. Malcolm shook his hand, remaining the professional he usually was. "Malcolm Merlyn." "Pleasure to meet you, Malcolm Merlyn. Captain Jack Harkness, but you can call me Jack."