don't get me wrong () prodigal son SLOW UPDATES

Thirty Six

She whacked his arm, "Don't say that!"

Malcolm sighed shaking his head, focusing only on Rodger. "I just need you to tell me anything you know about Axel."

"You know I can't do that."

"The police won't press charges as long as you tell the truth."

Rodger glared, "First you steal my camera, drag me into the station... I may be a freak to you, but I actually cared about Tatiana. Screw you." He brushed between them, walking away. Malcolm scrambled after him, "You're right! You're right, I see that now, I do. You would never hurt her, but I have to show you something—"

"Huh?" Theodora questioned, racing after them.

"A picture!" He declared, jumping in front of Rodger once again. He unfolded a piece of paper, revealing a very dead looking Tatiana staring into the camera. The blue paint and sequins had been removed, leaving only pale skin and lifeless eyes. "You see, the killer was facing Tatiana when they crushed her esophagus that forced her eyes open. She had to look at him while he strangled her to death. Who did this Rodger? Who killed her?"

Theodora's eyes widened, snatching the paper away and crumbling it into a ball. "What is wrong with you! Don't show him that! Where did you even get this information?"

"Edrisa. The autopsy came back, I read it in Gil's office."

Rodger shook his head wildly, "I know what you're trying to do. It's not going to work... and you can rot in hell."

The man continued on his way, but this time Malcolm did not follow. He looked at the ground before glancing back, watching the distance grow. Theodora was quick to whack his arm again, "Why in the world did you think that would work!"

"He said he loved her—"

"Exactly! He loved her, Malcolm. And you're showing him a picture of her dead body. He's scared of something, maybe it's Axel, who knows but if the killer could do that to her what does that mean for him if he tells us?" Theodora huffed, "He's afraid for his life. This is about love, but she's gone now. There's nothing he can do expect try to keep breathing himself and move on."

Malcolm frowned, pulling out his phone. "I need to call Gil."

She rolled her eyes, turning and walking towards Rodger who was about to cross at the intersection when tires squealed on the tar. A slick black car came speeding down the road, headlights freezing Rodger in his path as the car made a sharp turn and barrelled into the man. Theodora shrieked and scrambled back, eyes wide as Rodger flew off the hood of the car and onto the ground unmoving.

She ran up to his side, falling onto her knees. "Malcolm!" She yelled looking to him, he was running towards her with the same spooked expression. "Call an ambulance!"

"Gil, I need an ambulance. Rodger's been hit by a car!"

Theodora pressed two fingers to his throat, "There's a pulse but it's faint."

"Ambulance should be here any minute. Gil's on his way, too."

"I don't give a damn about Gil." She snapped, trying to see anymore outside damage. He wasn't bleeding, so that was good thing, right? "He cannot die."

"Stop grabbing at him."

"He cannot—"

Malcolm grabbed ahold of her and yanked her up, staring down. "You can't help him right now, Theo. Take deep breaths—"

"Don't say that."

"Say what?"

Theodora blinked slowly, memories she thought had been buried long ago resurfacing.

She was in a white room, a line of metal sections built into the four walls. One had been pulled out, a male figure laid out on it. Her father had looked so young lying on that table, it had almost made her sick looking at him. Theodora had cried, refusing to believe that it was him. She had held onto his body, swearing to never leave it. This had to be a mistake.

"You can't help him anymore." The doctor had said, "He's in a better place now."

But she hadn't cared, she was now alone. The only other person who had ever cared for her was gone, lost to the world just as her mother was.

You can't help him.

"Theo?"

She blinked, "Huh?"

Malcolm was staring down at her, wiping away tears off her cheek with a thumb. Lights flashed brightly, and shouting voices echoed into the night. "Hey, hey, are you okay? What's wrong?"

"Yeah." She stepped away, rubbing her eyes with an arm. "I'm good, sorry."

He frowned, "Theo—"

"We need to get to the hospital and see if he's okay. He needs to start to telling the truth and we can't get to that point if he dies." She turned, storming back towards the bar they had been at earlier, to where his car was parked nearby.

"Theo!" He raced after her, "What's—"

"You wanted answers, let's go get them. Please, if we can stop talking about me. I don't want to get into it, it doesn't matter anyways."

"Yes it does—"

"Please." She stopped, looking up at him. "Please, don't bring it up."

His eyes softened, and eventually there was a nod. Malcolm stepped around her, leading the way back to the car.

They drove to the hospital in silence.