Fractured (Broken Part 2)

Speak of the Devil

wrapped around my thigh just under my dress

after I noticed that Jonah was no longer on the pew.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know that. But what I don't know is how to fix it. How can I help him, counteract the poison?" Malcolm locked eyes with me again.
"Got it. And what if Lily and I are locked in the room with him?"
Jonah appeared before us almost supernaturally.
Malcolm pushed me behind him as Jonah approached us with a shard of glass in his hand.
"Jonah, it's okay. You're hallucinating. All that old paint. You came into contact with lead." Malcolm explained gently.
"I'm manipulating the paint with my fingers to achieve a classical effect. I made it beautiful." Jonah said, his voice low and dark.
"No. It made you sick. Made you act out what you saw in that book." Malcolm motioned to the book under his other arm.
"No." Jonah growled.
"You think you're possessed, but you're not." I said gently.
"No." Jonah repeated.
"This isn't real." Malcolm breathed.
"Jonah? Listen to me. There's no demon inside of you." Malcolm set his hand on my slightly raised pistol.
"Oh, you're wrong. I am Abaddon!" Jonah screamed at us.
"Okay, what do you recommend?" Malcolm shook slightly in front of me.
"Exorcisms don't work. Possession isn't real." Malcolm shook his head picking up a large candle stick with a lit candle.
"Malcolm..." I said his name urging him gently.
"You made sure of that. Okay. How do I perform an exorcism?"
"Oh, you've got to be kidding." Malcolm sighed.
"Malcolm. It might be our only option. Either that or I have to shoot him."
"Humiliare sub pontente manu De." Malcolm repeated after, I assumed, Friar Pete.
Jonah moaned in pain at the words.
"Da honorem Deo et Patri omnipoténti." Malcolm continued his voice shaking.
Jonah hissed at us. I wrapped my hand around Malcolm's hip still holding my pistol.
"Deus repellit! Deus vincit!"
The flame of the candle bounced as Malcolm's hand shook causing Jonah to laugh.
"Dominus autem misit ad infernu!"
"I see it now. The darkness. The evil. You have it, too." Jonah's dark voice told Malcolm.
"What?" Malcolm's voice shook.
"Malcolm. It's okay." I whispered offering him my strength.
"The power of Christ compels you." Malcolm said his voice small.
"The power of Christ compels you!" I repeated after him firmly reminding Malcolm that I stood behind him.
"The power of Christ compels you!" Malcolm said again.
"The power of Christ compels you!" Malcolm and I repeated together.
"No. No. No, no. No." Jonah fell to the ground.
Then he shot back up towards us causing Malcolm to lash out with the candlestick, striking him in the head.
"Are you okay?" Malcolm asked turning to me.
I nodded.
"Are you?" I asked touching his hips again.
He touched his forehead to mine. I could hear Martin's frantic voice through Malcolm's phone.
"I finished the ritual." Malcolm told his father looking at me.
"My hero." I teased kissing him.
"Lilian. We have a problem." Gil said as the group rushed into the sanctuary.
"What happened?" I asked.
"It's NYPD." JT said hanging his head.
"Ashlyn. Get me the recording from Detective Tarmel's radio from the last half hour." I skipped the pleasantries.
"I have it." She said after a brief moment.
I turned on the speaker phone so we could all hear it.
"Play it."
"This is Detective Tarmel. We need backup at Mott Street." JT's voice said.
He was met with only silence.
"Do you copy? Come in." JT continued.
"Who is this?" A cold male voice finally answered.
"Tarmel, Major Crimes." JT identified himself again.
"This is a police channel. Impersonating a cop is a finable offense, Detective Tarmel." The cold voice said.
My hands shook with anger.
"Thank you, Ashlyn. I'll call you back." I growled before hanging up the phone.
She knew I wasn't angry at her.
"What do we do?" Malcolm asked me.
I looked at Gil.
"I have rank but this is still your unit. What's the move?" I asked.
I sat on the couch across from Gil's desk as he screamed at the officer over the phone.
"When we call for backup, you come."
"You know exactly what I'm talking about. He identified himself!"
"Don't you hide behind that." He slammed the phone down.
"I have an idea." I said motioning for the others to join us.
"I need you on board for this." I looked at JT who nodded.
I stepped onto the stage to rolling cameras and flashing lights.
"I want to start by saying that I will not be taking questions at this time. It has been brought to my attention that there was an incident on the night of November third between a uniformed officer and a detective with the NYPD's Major Crimes Unit that have raised racial concerns for me. Tonight there was an additional incident and it is because of that that I have chosen to open a formal internal affairs investigation into the treatment of this detective. Any and all officers I find to be involved in this after a full investigation will be terminated and prosecuted to the full extent of the law. As officers we are tasked to uphold the law but that does not put us above the law. Thank you." I delivered my address to officially begin my investigation.
I stepped off the stage and directly into Malcolm's arms.
"Are you ready to go home?" I asked.
"We should drop this book off first." Malcolm sighed.
"Ah. My two favorite people." Martin said as Malcolm and I walked into the cell.
"Thanks again for the help." Malcolm sighed.
"I obviously didn't do enough. What bothers you, my boy? Come on, you can tell me anything, my son. Come on. Unburden yourself." Martin glanced at me as he spoke to his son.
"It's just... I'm the one who decided to dispose of Endicott's body. To lie to Ainsley. Cover the whole thing up. That was me."
The truth was it was me. I told him to call Martin but as he'd told me more than once he could have said no.
"Or... maybe it was me." Martin said.
"How's that? You possessed me?" Malcolm joked weakly.
"Well, isn't that what parenting is? Your mother and I, we are the power that compels you. I mean, usually to brush your teeth or pay your bills, but you knew exactly what your sister needed. You knew how to save her. Because of..."
"You. Because you're a part of me." Malcolm sighed again.
"Well, uh, why, yes, I am. You haven't always, uh, appreciated that, but, uh..." Martin stuttered.
"I'm coming to terms with it. And that's a good thing." Malcolm reached for my hand as he turned to knock on the door.
"Son, I'm... Well... I'm speechless."
"It's not a good thing for you, Dr. Whitly." Malcolm turned back to his father and let go of my hand.
"See, I know you're there now. And I can lock you up. Tune you out. Even... leave you behind." Malcolm stood directly in front of his father.
Martin looked at his son with his mouth agape.
"Malcolm. Sweetheart. It's time to go." I said gently.
I caught Martin glaring at me when Malcolm took my hand and walked out of the room with me.