Mal was so surprised at being manhandled that he complied. Norms didn’t touch Mal. Not ever. He unnerved people too much for them to even consider it, and this kid kept doing it.
The kid joined Mal and closed the panel behind them. “Follow me,” they whispered, slowly navigating the narrow space between walls.
Norm buildings didn’t generally have spaces between walls of this nature. The only places Mal knew of with spaces like this belonged to old mansions and buildings with a resident brownie.
Wait.
Brownie.
Dryer sheets.
Oh, for fuck’s sake. Mal should have realized as soon as he smelled the kid.
Why would he, though? It didn’t make any sense for the kid to be a brownie. They didn’t give off any sense of Other, not even the spark of flavor most norms with latent ability radiated. The nervous teen gave off nothing but a sticky-sweet flavor Mal wouldn’t eat if he was starving.
Which he was edging close to, so it wasn’t hyperbole.
“What are you, kid?” Mal asked, as he trailed after them. He lacked a better option to get out of the airport unless he wanted to kill his way out.
“A sociopath.”
Mal snorted. “No, you really aren’t.”
“Don’t judge me by my size. I might surprise you.”
“I highly doubt you’re a sociopath, kid.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“I mean, I suppose you could be, but what are the odds of both of us turning out to be one?” Mal was just fucking with the kid now. Partly because it was fun, and partly because he wanted to see if his theory about them was true.
The kid froze and turned around slowly. “You—you’re?—”
Mal smiled down at the kid who was working themself up to looking at him. When they finally met his gaze, all color leached from their skin.
“A monster?” Mal asked. “Yes. Absolutely.”
“Are you really a sociopath?” The teen cocked their head to the side and frowned.
“That’s not really a thing, you know. Just ask Doctor Google.”
“Well, no, obviously, but everyone knows what you mean when you say it. So are you?”
Mal snorted instead of answering.
“Are you?” The kid insisted. When Mal gave them his best dead-eyed expression, they said, “No, really. I need to know. Everyone says I am. My foster family, the school, the doctors they send me to… everyone. But I don’t know. How do you know if you really are the monster everyone makes you out to be?”
“Kid…”
Something in the kid seemed to snap, and they hissed, “Holly. My name is Holly. Fucking use it.” The kid’s face went cold and empty until they saw that Mal had no reaction to their rudeness. Then they softened a little and asked, “What’s yours?”
“None of your business.” Mal decided to let Holly see firsthand why he wasn’t bothered by rudeness. Manners? Who’s that? Mal didn’t know her.
“Fine! If even the monsters don’t want me, I guess I’ll just go fuck myself and let everyone else be happy without me around.” Holly looked exhausted, like they’d been scared and angry for far too long.
Oh, for the gods’ sake. Mal wasn’t even getting paid for this shit. What the fuck ever.
“It’s Mal,” he said gruffly.
