Beta: Many thanks again to tardisjournal
Characters: Malcolm Merlyn, Moira Queen
Word Count: 775
Spoilers: Set after the finale of season 1 of "Arrow", spoilers for "Torchwood" including season 4
Summary: How could Malcolm Merlyn survive that last fight with Oliver? Because he’s actually the immortal Jack Harkness. Now Malcolm thinks about the mess that is his life. Memories of the past arise – good and bad ones. This is just a short chapter but it is my favourite.
Notes: Others have done “Malcolm used to be Jack” before and while reading their works I got inspired to try my hand at it
Link to chapter 1
Link to chapter 2
He opens the closet to see if there are any suitable clothes left. He hasn’t been in this hideout for a while, but there are two suits on the hangers. He takes them out to inspect them for any moth holes. That’s when he finds the note. A hastily-scribbled note saying “I love you” in his suit pocket. In Moira’s handwriting.
He has to sit down. He remembers how angry and betrayed he had felt when he saw her doing that press conference yesterday. Telling the whole world about his Undertaking, setting the police after him. He should let his Dark Archer persona take care of her, but he… can’t. Because they have… a past.
It had started innocently enough, as those things always do. One night after he had been back from his quest for answers, she had turned up on his doorstep at a very late hour.
“Is my husband here?” she demanded to know.
Malcolm was surprised. “No, he went home more than three hours ago. Moira, do you have an idea how late it is?”
She brushed past him and settled on the large leather sofa.
“Come on in,” he said belatedly and closed the door.
“What about last Saturday?”
“I was in Denver on a business meeting for the whole weekend. Moira, what’s going on?”
He crossed the room and perched at the edge of the couch table, across from her. Close enough to be able to comfort her, yet mindful of her personal space.
“Well, if he’s not here and since he’s not home, that means he’s cheating. I have been suspecting this for quite a while already.”
Her voice was surprisingly steady when she stated those facts, but she looked as if she had been crying earlier. Her mascara wasn’t as tidy as it usually was. And her hands shook slightly.
Malcolm took them into his own hands. “I’m sure there is an explanation.” His mind raced. He couldn’t really picture Robert going for some young chick while he had this wonderful woman in his house.
Malcolm cleared his throat at that thought and went to get Moira a drink. If he were honest, he needed one himself. She had come at a bad time. He managed to hold himself together all day long, in front of others, playing the businessman who appeared to have accepted his fate and just carried on. But at night, he still listened to his dead wife’s phone calls.
Tonight was such a night. He just hoped Moira wouldn’t notice.
But when he returned with the drinks, she already had spotted the cell phone lying on the table. He stood there in the middle of the room, a drink in each hand, suddenly helpless about what to do next.
Moira got up from the couch and took one of the glasses from him. Their eyes met when they started sipping. He was astonished to see tears in Moira’s.
“Malcolm,” she said in a very quiet voice which quivered a little. “Why are you still doing this to yourself?”
He was at a loss for words. There weren’t any to describe how much he was missing Rebecca, how much it still hurt. He was able to forget sometimes, but never to forgive himself. And here was Moira, at the moment hurting as much as he did. Two people who were lost and alone, and she was close enough that he could smell her perfume.
And now she was taking the empty glass from him, putting it aside. He saw where this was leading, and in a last attempt to be responsible, he turned his back, staring out into the night through the window. He sucked in a few breaths, trying to compose himself.
She came after him, standing close, but not touching him. They stood like that for quite a while, not saying anything. It still was more than he could take. Malcolm felt his eyes welling up, almost choking on the words tumbling out of him. “I miss her… I just miss her so much…,” and he turned and buried his wet face in her shoulder, not wanting to let her see his suffering, but not being able to do anything against it either. Moira put her arms around him and they stood for a while, clinging to each other.
And so it happened. The first kisses were tentative, searching, until they became more demanding. It didn’t take long for them to end up in bed that first night. They were both giving and receiving comfort. After that first night, Moira came back to him a few more times, and it felt good.
Until Robert came to his senses and returned to his wife, and Moira made it clear that she would stay with him, for the sake of Oliver. That’s when their secret meetings suddenly ended, and Malcolm had to deal with yet another loss. It wasn’t easy seeing her at parties in the Queen’s house and not being able to be close to her. They always were very careful in the public so nobody suspected a thing. The press would have a field day if their secret came out.
Malcolm also always suspected that he was the father of Thea, but didn’t pursue this thought, as he did not want to destroy an otherwise happy family.
>--->>> >--->>> >--->>> >--->>> >--->>> >--->>> >--->>> >--->>> >--->>>
Link to chapter 4
Also posted at FF.net: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/9694788/3/
Also posted on AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/970765/chapters/1960372
My other "Arrow" fanfictions:
"Heart in the right place"
How I met my father
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