[sock]

There's only so much reading he can do in these empty hours when he's left to himself. His empire and all its little haunts needed continuous tending - stoke or curb the flames (he liked to have style, thank you very much), clear out the corpses, watch for spies, shepherd the soldiers and the rest of the demons he'd made deals with. Like any unruly, living creature, it shifted and fidgeted and even threw tantrums to demand his attention, so like clockwork, Malachor wallows in the empty space it once occupied. This new aimlessness leaves nothing but his emotions to fill in the blanks. He said a lot of things he didn’t mean on the first day, but one thing that rings true is that he really is incapable of anything right now. He needs people now, and it's been so long since he has needed anything. He needs them, but does anyone else still need him?


＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩ ̩͙*˚＊


When Leo hums his way back into the bedroom, he leaves Mal to his thoughts for a bit. Eventually, though, his footsteps approach next to his bed, and he pops into view.

"Oh, you're awake." He says this as though he had been expecting it.

Mal frowns at him. "Hm? Yeah, why?"

He shrugs. "Nothing, just checking."

"Checking on what?"

Another shrug. "It's weird if you're sleeping already."

"Well, I'm not, obviously."

Leo crosses his arms. "You sleep a lot when you're feeling bad. Just saying."

That makes Mal actually prop himself up on his elbows to face him. "What?"

"You do. You get all grouchy and lie around and mope and you sleep."

"I don't mope!"

"So then what’s it called when you sit around all day and make this face?" Leo's whole demeanor droops, and he adds an extra slump to his shoulders for melodrama.

He gives him a flat look. "I do not look like that."

Out of nowhere, Leo materializes his camera. Well, it seems that way to Mal at least. He had just been holding it behind his back. "Wanna bet?"

Mal shoots into a sitting position and shoves the lens away. "No!" Leo cackles, holding the camera out of arm's reach, but cuts himself off when Mal pulls away, massaging the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut. "Kid, honestly. I’m just thinking, am I not allowed to think?"

Leo plops down next to him, putting down the camera. "Well, what are you thinking about? 'Cause you are being mopey."

He wrinkles his nose. "Nothing I want to talk to you about."

Leo pulls away at his tone, resentful, and Titans it makes his temples pound, trying to wrangle his feelings while not alienating him too much, because damn it, it is so easy to hurt his feelings even though he pretends otherwise, and damn it some more, he doesn’t like it now for some reason. In the past, people and their little emotions were like ants to him, easy and inconsequential to crush. They all died in the blink of an eye anyway, so what did it really matter to a centuries-old Emperor that they died a little sooner than they planned?

It's all in his face now. The kid gets mad at him, and he has to be stuck in a box with him and his dad indefinitely, dealing with the consequences of it. The things he says actually matter. This is why he hates being normal again because it's too close to Sarah how he keeps finding himself backpedaling and deflecting and defending-

Except.

Except, he sees Leo withdrawing, and, no… no, this is not Sarah. He is just a child, reacting, because what he says to him matters, and isn't that a crazy thought?

"Look, kid," he tries, controlling his voice this time. "It's just a lot to say. A lot to hear..." Heavy, for a child. Heavy for him too.

His softer manner encourages Leo to unfold again. He shuffles closer, tucking his little knees to his chest. "But you do feel bad?"

Mal bites his lip, deciding whether it's worth it to admit. Somehow, denying it seems unconvincing with how he's already been acting. "...Yeah. Suppose so."

"Okay." Leo crawls toward him and shimmies his way into his lap.

"Wha-? Kid! What are you- oof, watch it!" He rubs his leg in the pressure point Leo managed to jam with his knee in the process. "Okay, what is this?"

“Shh, we're just hanging out. You said you don't wanna talk."

Well, he's kind of stuck here now. He could shove him off, but he suspects that would earn him more injured feelings. Does he even want to, though? The alternative is going back to sitting alone with his thoughts, and lately Mal has been doing a lot of pondering about being alone or deciding not to be.

Things have changed ever since the first day. There's something about the way he reacts to the kid and Orion, like a part of him he neglected has opened up. Maybe he's still worn down from trying to carry all these emotions, and it's chipped away his resistance. It's perhaps because of this that he makes himself an allowance. He wraps his arms around Leo and rests his chin on the top of his head. In response, Leo relaxes in his embrace, leaning back against him, and reaches out to hold his hands. Mal's breath catches, and he has a hard time getting it loose again.

“Ooh! Did you see the shooting star?" Leo whispers, thankfully distracting him from his crisis.

"Huh? No."

"Aw, yeah they’re kinda hard to see if you're not used to looking at them from space. They're easier to see on the horizon because the contrast is better." He traces the outline of the planet with his finger.

Mal already knew that, but hums his acknowledgment and does keep his eyes on the horizon for a while after that, though he doesn't manage to spot one.

"Hey, you smell like burnt metal. Did you even wash up before coming here?"

"Naw."

"Are you gonna?"

"Naw."

He huffs in dismay, the sharp exhalation making a tuft of Leo's hair flutter. "That’s gross."

He snickers. "Well you can do the laundry again if it bugs you so bad."

"Yeah, how come I always end up being the one doing that, huh? Aren't they Orion's chores? What did you do when I didn't live up here?"

"I dunno. We did it whenever. I get dirty all the time from adventures. We would have to clean up over and over and over. What a pain."

He can’t help but laugh. "That's kind of the whole point of cleaning, kiddo."

"Yeah, that's why it stinks."

"That's why you stink."

Leo reaches up and pokes at his face but misses completely. "Well now you stink too because you’re hugging me."

"Yeah, I do. Thanks so much for that." He's more self-conscious of the fact that he's hugging the kid, now that he's pointed it out so blatantly. Somehow it was easier when nobody acknowledged it.

"You're welcome!"


＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩ ̩͙*˚＊


Moments like these have become more commonplace, everybody extending their casual affections. And he's having a harder time making excuses to decline them. It's been an excruciating two months, which isn't that long in the grand scheme of things, but he has so many hours to while away, and he's starting to understand what Atlas was trying to say about being alone. It's... nice, just sitting here with Leo, not really talking about anything real. It's nice to have a bit of comfort in company. It solves none of his problems, but it somehow comes naturally to hold him close. Once again, he struggles to find the line where the different versions of himself begin and end, to know what part of him is the one that makes this feel right.