empathicfault | IC Inbox

[ Continued from here ]

[ Daniel’s grip is firm enough in turn, but he’s not stupid enough to judge people based off things as stupid as first impressions and handshakes. There’s more to it, more to Will Graham. It’s blatantly obvious despite the fact that they’ve met, what, only 15 minutes ago?

If that instinct wasn’t enough to go by the phrase ‘former serial killer suspect’ sure is. The only reason Daniel remains completely nonplussed is because of years of experience.

Fuck the other asking him questions. Daniel’s found one hell of a bone to chew on. Probably not appropriate to have this conversation in the library when they just met, but it’s a big ship with a small crew and the urge to figure the other out is almost completely overriding any other thought. ]

Published a memoir, left the vampire part out--people look for the sex and the drugs and the self loathing. Name dropping blood suckers tends to call into question the whole ‘true story’ aspect.

You said you were framed?

[ He’s jumping back to Will, and if he has his way will continue along the line of conversation, tone neutral, as non-judgemental as possible despite his default tone being fairly acerbic. His arms are crossed loosely, right hand itching for a pen to start taking notes. ]

[ Will stares at Daniel, evaluating for a moment. But this is something he can talk (at least somewhat) openly about, now that he's here. It doesn't have to be all vampires and superpowers. ]

Well. It's a long story, but I get the feeling that you like those. But the basic gist of it was that people kept getting murdered in ways that mimicked the cases I was working on for the FBI. They called them the Copycat Killings.

And to ruin the mystery- it was the therapist that had been working with me the whole time, a prolific serial killer that had been named the Chesapeake Ripper. He was supposed to keep me steady, since I have a- [ He looks to the side. ] It's an empathy condition. Let me look into the mind of the killers we were after.

So, drug me up, plant a bunch of evidence, and- viola. I clearly didn't know what I'd been doing all that time. I got too close. I 'lost' myself.

[ That last part is said very flat and sarcastically. He's still a little bitter about how that all went down. ]

Or at least that's how the journalists framed it.

Edited 2023-02-20 00:57 (UTC)

[ Daniel notes it, the look--not hesitation, but something else, something he can’t quite place. It’s not like he’s getting sized up, but Will’s definitely puzzling something out for a brief moment. He supposes it doesn’t matter, because the other’s sharing just a bit, just enough that the urge to write it down is flaring up again.

He’s careful to keep his face neutral at the mention of an empathy condition, schooling his posture appropriately and keeping his shoulders squared and arms crossed but loose, looking open. A natural pose for the older man as Will--not happily, but easily--explains just a little of his back story with what Daniel’s fairly sure is honesty.

The swipe at the journalists makes Daniel smile despite himself, like Will’s just told a joke he already knew the punchline of. Yeah. That sounds like news pundits to him. ]

And how would you frame it?

[ Freddie never let anything go when she was interviewing someone- hell, even when she wasn't. Daniel seems less desperate about it, but Will gets the feeling he's just as focused on his goal.

And it's not like the Tattler exists here, so Will lets his annoyance and lingering bitterness at the situation show through as he responds. ]

It's a story of the people in my life letting me down. How all the protections they wanted to provide me really only amounted to window dressing in the end. Because they either needed what my brain could do, or they pitied me. It was so much easier to believe lies from the reputable, well-liked doctor over the truth from an antisocial mongrel like me. They left me to fend off the monsters by myself.

[ He shrugs. ]

Pretty sure that wouldn't sell as well, though.

Are you kidding? [ Daniel rewards honest with honesty of his own, and despite the slight change in his expression–still studious, though a little less stern and critical–he shrugs slightly. ]

That’d sell just as well, if not more. Especially now. The face of a gaslit underdog.

[ No judgement. No sign he wants to even do it: he’s just telling Will exactly how it is. ]

You’d have a 6 figure documentary deal from Netflix before you could say ‘intellectual property rights.’ And then there's the inevitable backlash, the thinkpieces, the fucking clickbait...

[ Will seems a bit confused. It's not like he doesn't understand what Daniel's saying, it just doesn't fit with what he thinks/knows of the media. And unfortunately, he had to get more acquainted with 'the media' these past few months to draw the dragon out. He does make a face as the journalist goes into all the 'opportunities.' ]

The clickbait was so awful. Can't believe the internet somehow made tabloids even worse...

[ He shakes his head. ]

Well, I don't have your mind for what other people want- as a mass, anyway. I'll defer to your expertise.

It's Ulla. I hope you're alright, after that breach. I just wanted to let you know that I did reach out to your new warden, as we discussed.

Please let me know if there's anything you need while you recover.

Oh. Yeah, I-

Uhm. Har- no. Malcolm. If he's okay, can you- [ cough ] have him come by?

Of course. Where should I send him?

Uh, I'm in my cabin. Level 6. Room 19.

Thanks.

[ He'll have to thank her properly later, but this flat tone is all he's got right now, unfortunately. ]

You're welcome.

You can call me if you need anything else, even if it's only food deliveries.

Not exactly hungry right now.

[ He'd kind of over-eaten during the Breach. ]

-but maybe later...okay.

The offer will stand later. And I'll send Malcolm to you now.

Hey, man. So, uh, normally I'd go the whole nine yards to seem cool and approachable and shit, but I heard you had a rough time during the breach - don't blame you - and I don't think the introduction I usually give is going to help much.

[ His usually is incredibly dramatic, but reeling himself in seems like the better choice here. ]

So I'm just gonna say my name's Eddie, I'm your temp warden for the month. If you need or want anything, all you've gotta do is ask.

Hi, Eddie. [ He sighs lightly. ] I'm...sort of recollecting myself right now, and...sick, since I died.

But if you want to do the whole intro thing later, feel free. Right now, I don't want anything but to forget the past four days. And maybe my dogs. Don't think you can help with either of those, but thanks.

Yeah, I know that feeling, dude. Don't worry, I'm not planning on hovering or anything. Just here to offer my services if needed.

Well--the forgetting? Yeah, probably not. But, uh, how many dogs are we talking?

Oh. Uh...seven.

[ As if that's a natural amount of dogs to have. But it is making him wonder... ]

If...if you could, though. I'd like to have Winston back. Never got enough time with him.

[ And asking for Jackson right now is probably: a) Not possible, and b) Not healthy. ]

[ Eddie leaves the conversation hanging for a couple hours while the Admiral does his job. Unfortunately, he made the mistake of tacking on his own minor request as well, and the Admiral takes it upon himself to drop everything into Eddie's cabin instead.

He flips on the video feature, and there's Winston, settled among a sea of guitars, amps, and lived-in clutter. ]

So, just a guess, but I'm gonna go out on a limb and assume this belongs to you.

[ Will turns his to video, too, immediately. So Eddie can see him sitting in his kind of ratty-looking cabin. The armchair Will is in looks worn but comfortable. Will himself has a huge grin on his face.

Winston, meanwhile, is a little more relaxed. He wags his tail upon seeing Will and tentatively licks Eddie's hand for attention. ]

Winston! Hey- hey, buddy. Sorry, I know this must be pretty confusing.

[ It is to him. He's not going to think about just where or when the dog might have come from, right now.

He finally turns his attention to Eddie again. And while he looks quite ill- death tolling is no fun- he barely seems to notice. ]

Hey, I- thank you. I can come get him? Where are you?

Yeah, don’t mention it.

[ Thanks to Eddie’s spur of the moment craving for soda-flavored chewing gum, Winson’s arrival came as a bit of a surprise, but he’s well behaved and isn’t causing Eddie half as much anxiety as he initially thought. He scratches the dog behind the ears and peers at the screen with a hesitant smile. Yeah, Will, you don’t look so great. ]

Well, uh, I’m on level one in cabin fourteen. You're free to drop by, but--no offense, you kind of look like shit. I can bring him to you if you’d prefer to just…not move.

[ Winston starts panting as Eddie gives him scratches. Please continue, new human, he likes this.

Will seems torn, but eventually nods. ]

No offense taken. I could make it, but- yeah, if you really don't mind. I'm on level six, cabin 19. It's in the back corner. Winston'll probably just follow you, he's a good dog.

[ Will has never met a dog that's not good, of course. ]

Yeah, yeah, of course. Just stay put, man. I’ll head your way with him.

[ Eddie takes off in that direction, and thankfully, Winston does follow. A few minutes later, he finds cabin 19, and he knocks. ]

Hey, uh—dog delivery.

[ Unlike with literally any other knock at his cabin, Will is actually ready to open the door when Eddie gets there. Winston barks excitedly and runs in, wagging his tail so hard it looks like it might fall off. Will slowly crouches down to the floor so Winston can lick at his face and he can hug the dog. ]

Hi. Hi- oh, I missed you. So much.

[ He looks up at Eddie after the greeting and actually looks a little worse off in person? Maybe it was all that moving. But the smile on his face is wide. ]

I owe you, for this. Seriously. Thank you.

Nah, man, you don’t owe me anything. He’s a good dog.

[ It’s hard not to smile at Winston’s reaction to Will and Will’s reaction to Winston, even if he does quite literally look like death. Eddie is glad he opted to come down here instead; he’s guessing that Will doesn’t exactly have the energy to make his way up to the first level. ]

Honestly, I’d have gunned for the other six, but uh, just a guess, but the Admiral probably wouldn’t have been happy with that.

[ Will laughs, and is in the midst of rubbing Winston's belly as Eddie tells him about the other dogs. ]

Yeah, that might've been too much. Good to just start with the one. Since that worked, though- I'm thinking I might ask any other temp wardens I end up with for a dog, too. See how many it takes till the Admiral gets annoyed.

Winston is a good dog, though, I'll give you that.

[ Winston 'ruffs' in response and gets back up to lick Will's face. At least it's helping Will look slightly less sweaty. ]

You alright?

[Sweeney never really was one for segues.]

Edited (Formatting) 2023-03-19 18:11 (UTC)

[ Will almost misses it, when his communicator pings. He's glad he deigns to look. He types out names and deletes them a few times, then fumbles with the rest of the message. ]

I'm alive, and I'm not half-fungus. So I'm better off than I could be.

[ It's not much of an answer, and Harkin'd get on his case about it, so he adds: ]

Still working things out. Probably will be for a while.

You alright?

Not really. Breaches always fuck me up extra. Never died in one before. Fucking sucks.

[Half a minute passes.]

You need anything?

Edited (Formatting) 2023-03-19 18:26 (UTC)

[ Sweeney's doing his best to treat this as something less than existentially nightmarish. While Will appreciates that, it doesn't feel right. ]

Think you could come over? It sounds stupid, but I want to make sure you're not infected.

Ain't stupid. Where?

[Sweeney is very familiar with the need to solidify his reality, and he doesn't fault Will at all. This is existentially nightmarish. It's just also his general constant state.]

Level 6, Room 19. In the corner.

Gonna take me 30 but I'm coming.

[Like he promised when they made their escape.]

------

It takes him a little longer, but the estimate isn't too far off. Sweeney pauses at the door, leaning against its frame as he rests, trying to recover some from the effort. He hadn't managed to get an over-shirt on, but he did get his braces over his shoulders and his boots on his feet. Otherwise, he's a hot mess in a white tank that's seen better days.

He raps three times on the door, waiting only a moment before calling through it as best as he's able. The sound of his own voice makes him wince.

"It's me, Pup. Open up."

There's a bit of a scratching noise at the door before Will opens it. "Okay, okay," he says,as he opens it up to show a midsized brown mutt of a dog wagging his tail at his brother-- not his brother. Uhhh...

Will stares at the man in front of him with a critical eye, but he also looks like he's close to tearing up. "Hey, Hark," he finally says. He backs up to allow entrance and makes a hand gesture that has Winston making room too. "C'mon in, have a seat. I forgot you were going through this, too."

There's certainly enough to be different; Sweeney's a little older, a little more worn. Longer beard, redder hair that's more generous in its crest, but at his core, he's the same enough that he doesn't even question the name.

He brightens instantly at the sight of the unexpected companion, and even though his body is still screaming at the abuse, there's no hesitation before he comes in. He hunches over to greet the dog while still making room for Will to close the door. Once that's accomplished, Sweeney crumples to sitting on the floor to give proper ear scritches. His focus doesn't lift when he speaks.

"You've been holdin' out on me."

The Irish is there, but it's a bit rounder around the edges than when last they spoke.

Well, Will certainly isn't going to tell anyone to not pet the dog. Winston himself wags his tail harder and leans into the scritches. He's a very settled sort of dog, a lot more stable than Will himself feels right now.

"I wasn't, promise," he says, a bit of laughter in his voice. "Eddie's my warden for the moment. He asked me if there was anything I needed...well. The dogs came up. This one's Winston, from the other life I remember."

Will does remember Sweeney, at least a little, when they first met during the flood. It's kind of been overtaken, but he knows the accent was thicker. Will suspects he probably sounds a little different, too- if only due to the way he holds himself. He's got more confidence, in this life. He had to, or he wouldn't have survived.

He realizes how to describe the comparison best, and laughs to himself. "You know, I had a whole pack there? I picked up every stray I found. I'm sure you're surprised."

The word 'warden' makes for a mental stutter, and Sweeney's able to connect to the present more firmly. He wasn't completely gone, but the bleed has been bad since he woke up.

"Completely." It's said so dryly, it's just missing the eye roll to edge on the dramatic familiarity of brotherly affection. Only then does he look back up to Will, though his hands linger on Winston.

"Give it a bit. This shit fades fer most folk." He's trying to offer some comfort.

"B'comes like...a dream or somethin'." Sweeney abandons the thought with a tight shake of his head.

"Ain't like that fer me, but I'm an outlier."

An outlier with a Curse.

Will looks up at Sweeney, staring at him and really trying to see what he's about, what he means about being an outlier. It's too much, still, but he can see Harkin in there. It's a bit of an anchor for him.

Will sits down next to Sweeney, cross-legged, and gives Winston a couple of appreciative pats. "Can you tell me something about it? About your outlier-ness? I know you're- pretty sure you're not human. At least not here."

He'd tried not to pry before, but before Harkin wasn't related. So maybe he's overstepping, but he's not going to feel bad about it now.

Well, it was bound to happen eventually; it's not like Will can read the ledger. Sweeney's not avoiding the rest of the questions. He just needs to get the first answer out of the way, whether it comes with some clever response or plain confusion. He's very straight about it.

"I'm a Leprechaun."

Will frowns and his brows knit. He looks at Sweeney with his mouth open, then frowns again- but more thoughtfully this time. Huh.

"That...actually explains some things," he says, looking a little stricken. "You're a- a legend? Like, in the literal sense?" It's a guess, going off the veritable smear of imagery Will seems to get off of Sweeney. He's not sure how that would work, but it feels like he's on the right track.

"Bells an' whistles," he confirms with a tilt of his head. With a flick of his fingers, he produces an archaic, roughly pressed coin with solar motifs, and offers it to Will for inspection. He remains very casual about the whole thing.

"Legends if ya wanna use that word. I tend ta keep it ta Stories." A corner of his lips curls, but no smile reaches his eyes.

"Makes fer lower expectations." He shrugs a shoulder.

"I've been a lotta things b'fore what I am, and another bunch since bein' here. If it's Believed ta be True, it is. So..." Sweeney looks up, trying to come up with a simpler way to put it.

"Basically, I'm all the things I've been. Which is why I don't get ta have that dream part. Harkin was me, so he is me."

If that makes any fucking sense. It's obvious he's open to questions. It's weird as fuck. Especially for a human. A human that's going through his own shit.

Will takes the coin and looks it over, very interested in the sun motif. He huffs out a bit of a laugh when Sweeney talks about 'Story' versus 'Legend'- yeah, Will could see why he might want to go with that. He holds the coin back out for Sweeney to take.

And that was a lot of sharing, especially for someone who's part-Harkin, so Will decides to take over from there. "So when I was talking to you...before the Breach. I kept thinking my-" Ugh, he never knows what to phrase it as. "-condition was misfiring. Usually, it can be kind of a lot, especially if someone's not very clear with themselves on what they want, but- this was different. Sharp cuts. Different lives...I'm not explaining well." He shakes his head. "What I mean to say is, that makes sense."

He's silent for a moment, and Winston 'ruffs' quietly, politely asking for more pets from the two of them. Will obliges and continues. "I, uh, my condition is kind of that for humans. I tend to tug on other people, hold onto their lives and their selves. So we're not sure how long it might really take to fade. Probably a lot longer. Especially since I...don't want to lose my brother."

He sighs a bit and smiles wanly at Sweeney. "Can I call you Harkin? Is that...overstepping? Do you need the distance?" Because part of Will doesn't want it. He's had to force distance too much in his life.

Sweeney takes the coin, and it promptly vanishes again with a roll of his fingers. He isn't thinking about it, he's listening to Will intently. Nothing about his 'condition' seems cut and dry, but there's enough pieces to make a watercolor. It's not like 'human' has any one meaning here. Some are magicians or afflicted with visions. This isn't that different. The inquiry is met with a shrug of his head.

"Fine by me. Pretty much anythin's better than Sweeney." Except for Shuibhne.

"Ain't like yer gettin' rid'a Pup."

He owns his flaws. And really, he likes the idea of getting to keep a brother. Things were closer with Fitz now, undeniably. But it isn't like that. Of course, Will wasn't his twin either.

Sweeney exhales through his nose, faintly amused.

"Normally it's me that's gettin' the distance requestin'." From Tiffany. He'd learned from his struggle with her, and has been upfront with people since. Of course, he has yet to have had another soulmate written for him. Sweeney shoves away any thought of Dead Wife.

"Ain't gonna bother me, us bein' familiar." Read: yes, that would be nice but there's no fucking way I'm going to say that out loud, even to you.

"But I gotta warn ya; I'm Harkin, but I ain't only him. There's gonna be days when it's harder ta see him in me. An' days I get confused. Shit bleeds. It's a whole thing." He sighs as his eyes slip beneath their lids.

Will had been trying to be somewhat careful with his expressions, but being called Pup again gets a genuine smile of relief out of him. He'd been ready to shut away all of it if he absolutely had to- he knows Malcolm would probably prefer that. But it's not what he wants.

There's enough Harkin in 'aint' gonna bother me' that Will can translate it instantly, and he smirks a bit even as his brother (semi-brother? whatever) tries to warn him off. "Hey, at least whatever bleeds is going to actually be you still. I don't get that most of the time."

He looks far more comfortable now, deciding that they've settled this issue and getting comfortable with the situation. "I've been worried that I'm going to end up as some...messy amalgam of Barge personalities. I've already been having what I assume are other people's nightmares. That's- that's just to say that I think I'll understand. I should, anyway."

He takes a breath, lets it out as if blowing out smoke. "It was Addy that took care of us both, right? I don't...remember a lot at the end, there. I know she found me, though."

'Should' is a welcome idea, but Sweeney isn't going to hold his breath or hold it against Will if he comes up short; there are too many complicating factors here. He's preparing to explain some of the more unpleasant memories and situations that have been forced on him when Will brings up one of the worst of all.

His body tenses instinctively at the thought of Addy, the warmth and companionship there. The trust. And how that instantly overlaps with Dead Wife calling him a bitch and a coward and a whore. About her holding him four feet off the ground by his balls, threatening to shuck them like peas. They ache in the memory.

There's a twitch in his lips, and he licks them to help him focus his answer.

"She did."

Sweeney swallows, knowing he should get ahead of this, because while they can be brothers, they won't be that makeshift family.

"Her an' me, it's complicated."

That's a gross understatement, but by the sound of it, he's already giving Will more that he would to anyone else.

He knew the topic was going to be tough, which is why he wanted to bring it up early and then not think about it afterwards. But there's more going on than just that. He can practically see the warring emotions on Sweeney's face.

"Didn't even know she was on the boat, to be honest," he admits, with a small shrug. "I'll keep that in mind. Good to know what happened, though."

He leans back, using his hands to hold himself up on the floor. Might as well follow up that untouchable topic with something else that's uncomfortable, huh? "Sebastian's here, too. He's...the one that infected me, pretty sure." He doesn't think he'll ever stop feeling sorry about spreading it to Harkin. Even in his deterioration, he held onto the emotion.

"Don't know who that is," he admits frankly.

"Either place."

It's not a big deal; Sweeney isn't one to go out of his way to meet people, and a lot of passengers are the same about that shit. But he understands this dude's important to Will in some capacity, so it matters now.

Will lets out a small, surprised laugh. "From when we were kids. It's okay, I didn't talk about him much. Don't think you liked him. It...probably doesn't matter. Just- I wasn't careful enough and-"

He stops for a moment and rubs his eyes. "You might not need to hear it, but I need to say it. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have talked to him. I should've submitted myself for testing, or quarantined. Something. My stupid mistake got us both killed, and it feels like dumb luck that we're actually here to talk about it."

Sweeney's quiet for a while, his gaze focused on Winston as the wheels turn. He doesn't do great with apologies, though receiving is better than giving, he supposes. At length, he presses his lips and parts them with his tongue.

"Makes fer a better Story."

And at the end of things, that's all breaches are. Fuck, what this whole fucking boat is.

"Adm'ral's gotta thing fer those."

The subtext is simple: It's not your fault. I don't hold it against you.

Edited (Additional text) 2023-03-20 20:13 (UTC)

Will's experience with forgiveness (at least in one of the lives he remembers) is complicated. So he wasn't sure how this would go, and was ready to accept just about anything. This? Yeah, this is a good outcome. And all told, he really did just need to get it out.

The mention of the Admiral has him raising an eyebrow, though. "Does he, now?" It puts to mind some things he should think about for later, maybe ask Shaw about. But for the moment, he looks almost relaxed. "Well, next time I hope I'm a little less incompetent. I already learned the hard way not to let my bleeding heart guide me- really didn't need another lesson."

He looks back over to Sweeney, a small smile on his face as he nods towards both him and the dog. "Winston likes you already, Hark. You don't need it, but- want some jerky for him?" He's already pushing himself up off the floor to get to his jar of 'treats' for the dogs. He's done with difficult topics for now, honest.

[Malcolm knocks on Will's door, but doesn't wait for the answer before he's calling] Will? It's Malcolm.

[ Will is in the middle of his own mind, at the moment. Hannibal pats him lightly on the shoulder and says, "And this is where I must leave you." ]

Must you?

[ "Unfortunately. You must engage with your current therapist, if you are to unknot your mind. Your former therapist will wait." Will frowns, but Hannibal gives him an encouraging smile. And then he's out of Lecter's office and back in his cabin, wrapped in sheets. ]

Coming--

[ He scrambles off his bed and navigates the chairs to get to his front door. He's wearing a blanket as a cloak, and looks hesitant as he glances up at Malcolm. ]

Come in.

[ His expression twitches, as if he has no idea what face to show to the world. He walks to the small sitting area next to the door and flops down into one of the armchairs. ]

I- I was infected. [ That should explain, at least some of this. ] You?

Me? I was okay. I was working for the Underground. I'm sorry you had to go through the infection, though.

[He closes the door behind him and sits in one of the other chairs.]

Did it remind you of... things?

[ He pulls the blanket around his shoulders a little tighter. ]

Let's see...I mean, I ate about four or five people. And yet, somehow, that seems more realistic than my apparently real life where I don't have family and a psychiatrist also fed me people - cooked, this time- and now I'm on a magic spaceship to...to become a better person or something.

[ Is he starting to sound a little hysterical? Maybe a bit. ]

[Malcolm winces when Will explains he ate some people.]

That's... horrific. You were... conscious of what was going on? It wasn't some sort of... hazy, unaware state?

[ Will shakes like he's cold. He's not cold, he just can't stop. He lets out a hitched sigh. ]

No, I wasn't quite feral yet. But I decided to...speed the process along, apparently. I'd been a Guardian, but I never- never wanted...

[ He loses the sentence and gives it up. ]

I saw things, as the mold grew in my head. Hallucinated. But I remember all of it. I thought this was supposed to- to fade. Or something. For breaches.

It does. But it takes a little time. And it might affect you differently. Your… disorder gives you little choice in absorbing states of mind that you’re close to. How long does that usually last after the source leaves?

'Usually'?

[ He looks confused as he tries to think of how to answer that. ]

I don't know. A couple weeks or...months. And it's never been me, before.

[ He shakes his head, and looks back up to Malcolm. ]

How's it feel for you?

It wasn’t really you. It’s just like we possess someone else for a bit. How does what feel for me? The aftermath of the breach?

[ Will's face scrunches up in an annoyed snarl, about to tell Malcolm that he should tell his brain that it wasn't really him. But Malcolm moves onto questions, and Will stutters and lets out a sigh. ]

Yeah. Is it fading? Is it- you remember everything? Growing up?

[ He's just trying to find purchase, something to compare his experience to. ]

I remember everything. Growing up. The choices he made and why. How he felt about his brother. But this is my second breach and it was like that after the first one. It took a few weeks for it to really start to fade. I worked a lot. I always work a lot when I need to get out of my head.

Edited 2023-03-20 14:24 (UTC)

[ Will was planning on arguing, but what Malcolm says makes him take a big, shaky breath in and blow it out. Malcolm's trying his best, too. Will closes his eyes. ]

It feels like one of these lives is a joke- a parody- about the other. The evidence, I know, points a certain way. As far as feeling it, though. I can't tell.

Can you step outside of it? Think of whoever you were there as someone you had to profile? What would you say about him?

[ He gives Malcolm an annoyed look, because he can barely step outside of it when the person is very different from him. But again, the further questions make it clear what he's getting at. Will tries to breath slower, and it evens out a little. He tilts his head back and closes his eyes. ]

Deeply unhappy, motivated entirely by a possibly codependent relationship with brother Harkin. Issues with arrested development, due to early childhood loss of parents. Chronic PTSD from identifying infected individuals for the local law enforcement.

[ He's not finished, but his face scrunches up as he fights tears. ]

I was apparently too sensitive for the work. But they used me, anyway.

He was too sensitive, but I can understand why you identified with him so strongly.

When I was a kid, I wanted to be a doctor like my dad. Help people. Save lives. Like my dad. My first breach, I was a doctor in a futuristic city. Son of a prominent surgeon, providing medical services to the poor for free. Part of me wondered if his life was how I would have felt if he was what I thought he was. Some people I talked to seemed to think that should have given me a sense of relief as opposed to say… grief.

What happened to him? The person you occupied.

[ Will sighs deeply. He can tell Malcolm is pushing him to separate himself into compartments. He doesn't want to. But he can't go on for too long like this, either, with conflicting actions popping up occasionally. ]

He...he got infected. It was-

[ He stops for a second, sits up straighter in his armchair. Frowns. ]

It was Hannibal. Dark hair, but- wait, that's- that's not possible. There's no way he could've been there. Right?

I'm not going to say it's impossible, but I think you know as well as I do that probably your mind is blending the memories.

Yeah. [ He shakes his head, trying to clear it. ] Yeah, has to be.

...is there someone named Sebastian Sims on this ship?

…There’s a Jon Sims. I think I met someone named Sebastien, but I don’t know his last name.

[ Will narrows his eyes as he tries to remember, but there's too many memories to sort through. He'll just have to check up on it later. Someone reminding him of Hannibal so strongly is a bad sign. ]

We'd been friends since we were kids... [ Not right. He's going to get corrected. ] The- the breach me- and him. But Sebastian had never been...normal. Just faked it. Anyway.

That Will- he got infected and. It went fast. It progressed so fast. He bit Harkin the next morning. Started believing he'd been infected for years, decades maybe. Joined up with a group that was just...doing damage. Lost his mind.

[ Okay, now it's a little easier to use the third person. ]

It felt like the encephalitis.

It was a brain infection, essentially. Maybe it basically took hold the same way.

He had your name?

Mmmhmm. Same name and everything. Just a zombie apocalypse and a different mental issue.

[ Will would shrug, but it'd just be an uncomfortable twitch. So instead he just slouches back into his chair. ]

I've never had the same name in a breach, though I remember some people did. I think that would be more unsettling. Harder to separate it from yourself.

Yeah. Definitely.

[ And now he's curious. ]

What name did you have?

This time I was called Noah Walker. Raylan was my older brother Mason. He raised me after our parents were killed by the disease. I've never been the younger brother before. It was an interesting perspective that I'm sure my sister would gloat about.

Oh. I knew Mason. Not well, but- [ He chuckles. ] Our brothers were friends.

I, uh. I never had family like that, before. Harkin took care of me.

I expect you'll gather a Barge family before too long. Maybe we can be that for you. I miss my family back home but... I've been making friends here. Slowly but surely.

[ He looks mildly hopeful and then suddenly frowns. He doesn't voice what just popped into his head. At the very least, his shaking seems to be dying down. ]

Seems like that happens around here, a lot. Maybe it's a case of all the misfits and outcasts being thrown together, finding like minds.

It's not what I expected, considering the inmate and warden dynamic. I thought it'd be a lot more...antagonistic.

Edited 2023-03-20 21:38 (UTC)

[Malcolm breathes out a chuckle and nods.]

It wasn't what I was expecting either. When I agreed to come here, I thought I was taking on another sort of... law enforcement-esque position but. It hasn't really been like that. At first I was a bit horrified that there wasn't even a comprehensive code of conduct or set of rules. Like. Ask two different people and they can't even agree that murder is necessarily wrong. But I guess you learn to work inside this... non-system in time.

I can imagine it's more jarring for the wardens than the inmates. All of us are in dire situations, after all. Almost anything's better than being dead.

[ He coughs a little and wipes his face. It's honestly kind of nice that it's just sweaty and not bloodstained. ]

Maybe the idea is to get more individualized help this way. No system, just people that'll actually help each other in each other's vicinity. It's...chaotic, but I don't hate it.

I don’t hate it either, anymore. Not since I found out it’s more like therapy than law enforcement.

[ That pulls a bit of a wry smile out of him. ]

How was it before you figured that out, though?

Intimidating. I wasn't sure how to fit in or what I was supposed to do here. It didn't help that some people recognized me from some other ship they collided with just before I got here. I don't have any memory of being there, but I'm told I worked there. It was some kind of mental hospital.

[ Will frowns, deeply. ]

Glad I missed that one. I didn't know there were other ships out there.

[ He's about to ask about details when he realizes he's not shaking at all, anymore. He takes a deep breath and it doesn't hitch. ]

Were you distracting me on purpose, or was that just going off on a tangent?

[ He'd believe either, considering the two of them. ]

Started off in column A, but column B got interesting, so I got sucked in too.

[He studies Will for a moment.]

Do you want something to eat? Or drink?

...water's about all I think I can keep down, I think. Between the death toll and...well.

[ It turned out there were worse ways to consume the human animal than through Hannibal's gourmet cooking. ]

How about some herbal tea? Get some warmth and vitamins into that water.

[ Will nods. ]

Think I could do that. Thanks.

[ He doesn't really mean to, but slides further down to rest his head on one of the arms of the chair. Now that he's calmed down, he's pretty exhausted. ]

[Malcolm doesn't disturb him. He slips out of the room, makes the tea, fills a thermos and brings it back to Will's cabin. He pours a cup and puts it within Will's reach. It's hibiscus, cherry and rosehip. It smells like fruit and flowers and is full of vitamin C.]

[ Will is half-asleep by the time Malcolm comes back and slowly blinks his eyes back open when Malcolm returns. He lets the blanket slip from his shoulders as he leans forward to take it. ]

Smells good...thank you.

[ He takes a sip and makes an appreciative 'mmm' noise. ]

This is a ways from the pine tree tea I remember having last.

Doesn’t sound delicious. Does sound nutritious. I always have a selection of herbal teas on hand, if you’re in the mood for one. I only drink caffeine first thing in the morning.

Considering our last session, I'm wondering if I shouldn't have the stimulants and you should go caffeine-free.

[ It's an easy joke. He's pretty sure Malcolm well understands anything he puts in his body. ]

I'm feeling...like I can at least identify some edges, now. Differences to notice, if that makes any sense.

[He’s not offended; he laughs concession.] Now you sound like my doctor.

[The observation sobers his expression again, but he’s pleased.]

That’s good! Do you want to talk through any more of it, or can I offer something in a distraction? For example: both breaches I’ve been someone pretty well adjusted and I felt calmer unmedicated than real me does on a heavy daily dose of sedatives: discuss.

[ That gets a laugh- almost a giggle- out of Will. None of the many psychiatrists he worked with would ever get so blunt. But he really likes it. After all, he knows a lot of the 'tricks of the trade', so to speak. ]

Hmmm...I think if we talk around it some, observe it from the outside, it'll help ground me a bit. So sure.

[ He'd go with the offered topic. ]

I'm assuming, on your end, that both of your breach selves didn't have to deal with any murderous version of your father. If so, the cPTSD is likely gone, and- from what I'd been reading, that changes all sorts of things in the body. So yeah, I'm not surprised.

For me, instead of a semi-neglectful father, I had a protective brother. But I also didn't go through any of the...targeted abuse I had the past five years or so, and mental health care was pretty much nonexistent, so- [ He shrugs. ] It was kind of a wash. I felt...delicate, at the time.

Edited 2023-03-21 12:05 (UTC)

We both got protective older brothers out of this one. Who was your brother? Someone from the ship?

Yeah.

[ His smile is soft and genuine, but he does have to pause for a moment to remember to say the 'right' name. ]

Think you said his name was Sweeney? The one I drank with, during the last flood. Right after I got here.

Giant former Leprechaun king? That’s Sweeney, yeah. Good guy to have protecting you. Mine was Raylan, the US Marshal.

[ Will's face scrunches up at the description in confusion. But the whole 'king' thing- he expressly had envisioned Harkin as a king wearing gold, shining in the sunlight. ]

A- a what now? He was a king?

He doesn’t love talking about it… well, with me. Maybe he will with you. I think he was two different kinds of kings at least. Or maybe one king and one god. Anyway, he’s super ancient.

[ There's a sharp spike of annoyance as Malcolm mentions that- Will is experienced enough to recognize that's (probably) not him. What he's not sure of is if that's from the breach- wanting to protect his brother- or spending that time around Harkin earlier.

He frowns, masking it as headache. It might as well be. He takes another sip of tea. ]

Yeah, I- I got that impression. Good to know I wasn't 'on the fritz', it was just...outside my current realm of knowledge.

I'll have to talk to him, huh? Is there a- an etiquette for this sort of thing?

[Malcolm is pretty sure it is him, actually. Sweeney is pretty upfront with his feelings on psychology and psychologists and on Malcolm, specifically. Will might have more luck, because they have a bond now. Breaches do hand those out sometimes.]

Not really. Just... drop by and say hi, maybe. He frequents the greenhouse. It's sort of his happy place, as far as he has one.

Good to know. [ He heaves a sigh. ]

Don't think either of us are going anywhere for a bit, though. Since I got him killed back there and all. At least- at least that one wasn't intentional.

How was it being the little brother? You fight with Mason on the Guardian issues?

We had some philosophical differences, but he also pulled my ass out if the fire. He was a good big brother.

What do you mean you got him killed?

I got infected and bit him the next morning. It was like I didn't even know what I was doing. It...usually didn't happen that fast. The total loss of control.

[ Will leans his head back and closes his eyes, briefly. ]

He might've had some years left, but you know how Guardians are- were supposed to handle things.

Yeah. The Underground was pretty against it. So they killed you both?

No. Harkin got me out. But then I was seeing things and got away from him. Ended up with the- there was an infected group led by a man named Marcus. Killed and...infected people while invading the city.

[ He stops for a moment, thinks, and then lets the air out of his lungs in a rather more dramatic sigh. ]

One of the Guardians I killed is new around here, so- that's a new type of awkward I'd never expected.

I guess they got the crash course on how things go here. Who was it?

Dimitri. No idea if that's his name here, I've just seen him around. He was my commanding officer in the breach. I didn't like him much.

[ He considers leaving it there, taking a big sip of tea. ]

I ate his heart. It seemed...appropriate, at the time.

I can see that.

There will be more breaches. Do you think dealing with that is going to get easier or harder for you?

[ Will considers this. ]

I think....if the next one has something to do with cannibalism, I'm going to start taking it personally.

Can you tell me more about the previous breach? You said it was futuristic?

Yeah. It was a futuristic city. Some people were bounty hunters and, um, I know Thomas Blanky worked at a bar. And I think Raylan owned one? Pagan was a rich guy that threw fancy parties where I did fundraising for my free clinic. Neal was an artist who just found a patron.

That definitely sounds like more fun.

[ And it is appropriately distracting him away from his recent horrible actions. ]

Neal's your inmate, right? Not a temp one? Is he an artist here, too?

Yeah, he started as my temp and then they put us together permanently. He knows how to paint; he's been giving me lessons, but back home he was consulting on while collar crimes for the FBI as a CI. He was an art thief and forger before that, apparently.

Oh, an art thief. Much less gruesome than what we usually get into, but still exciting. -or at least, that's the little I've heard about it.

Sounds like it was a good breach for him too, if he found a patron in it. Did you help a lot of people, in your clinic?

Completely ungruesome. He was a true cat burglar, apparently.

I treated a ton of people. A lot of children. I also attended one of Pagan’s parties and guilted the rich into donating.

Careful. Around here, people might think you mean a literal cat.

[ He smiles, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. ]

Please tell me you had the opportunity to cause a scene at the party, while you were guilting people.

[Malcolm laughs.]

No, apparently that me was very schmoozy.

Aw. Well, at least that was probably good for your clinic. You could help more people that way.

[ He looks a little wistful. ]

I hope I get something...nice, like that, for a breach. Maybe my brain won't be broken, one of these times, for example. Although coming back would probably be worse...

Edited (fixing sentences) 2023-03-24 01:51 (UTC)

It’s… disorienting, if it’s quiet in there, coming back to the… noise. Someone who… means well, but doesn’t know how brains work suggested I should use those sorts of experiences to show my brain what it’s like to be normal.

[ That gets a bitter laugh out of Will. He's had a lot of 'help' that 'means well.' ]

I'll try to be generous and think that they just meant you should try to...repattern your thoughts the same way or something. Like you could do it if you just had a map of the 'correct' way.

[Malcolm smiles wryly.]

I believe that’s what they meant, yeah. Like if I could feel what a normal brain is like on the inside, I would be able to adjust my brain until it feels that way, too. No luck with that so far, but quiet brain breaks: a double edged sword but enjoyable while they last, is my review.

Yeah, I don't know if that sounds a whole lot better. More convenient for the people around you, maybe. Less of a possibility of you looking rough for tabloid photos, but...harder to come out of when you don't have the experience handling these things?

[ Let him know, Malcolm. He's totally guessing, and that's clear in his tone. ]

It's a let-down. And it's rough, the every day stuff that you were used to before it.

[ He makes a bit of a face, not very pleased to hear about that, and then sighs. ]

Yeah, I imagine that would be quite the loss, once it's gone. Did you mourn it properly? Or was it more of an unwanted gift, doomed to be shoved into a drawer and forgotten?

Maybe somewhere in the middle. I missed it, and I tried not to dwell on it, but I don’t want to forget it, either.

Oh, well. That just sounds healthy.

[ He says it with mock-disappointment, but he does smile a bit. ]

At least you're giving me an example to follow.

I try to be a good friend. [He watches Will for a moment.] How have you been coping with the noise since we talked?

[ Will's smile fades a little, thinking about it. He pauses for longer than one might expect. ]

Two things...It hadn't been getting better, before the Breach. But I was starting to feel more 'settled' with it, if that makes any sense. Like the horrors were at least organized, in my head. Blood goes over here, spiders are over there, eyes go on the walls.

[ He looks a little amused with himself, but continues: ] But- ah. It's not bad, now? I'm sure it won't last, but it all feels...faded. It's not as raw.

[ His eyes flutter shut as he actually opens himself up to his visualization, something he almost never does in front of others. ]

It actually feels like someone else's feelings, for once.

Is this the first time it ever has? Or was there a time when it did before it overwhelmed you?

No...not the first time...

[ He takes in a deep breath and opens his eyes again. He nibbles on his own lip for a moment before shaking his head and shrugging. ]

When I'm on a case, the noise fades. It's just replaced with whoever I'm chasing after, for a time. Their fears, their purpose. This is- it's a little different. I think.

So when you're focused on one person so fiercely, their voice takes over your whole mind?

Yes. -well. Most of it. I've managed to set up routines to try and turn it 'on' and 'off', but they don't always work.

[ He looks down at the floor, a move that, by now, Malcolm should be able to recognize as Will trying to hide his discomfort. ]

At least the nightmares I get during those times are more focused.

Do you collect them? Other people's nightmares? Do they stay with you when those people are gone from your life?

Yes. They'll fade, eventually. But they don't disappear. I tend to wake up very disoriented.

[ He huffs out a sigh as he realizes something. ]

Better get ready for the mushroom ones again. Think those might be out of my diet for awhile.

Yeaaaahh. I have kind of a... delicate stomach. Dead bodies don't make me queasy but most food does. Weird, right?

You know, if Hannibal were here, he'd fix you up something you could handle.

[ Totally serious delivery. ]

My inmate is kind of a chef. And I know what he’s putting in my food.

[ Come on, nothing? Will looks slightly disappointed, but moves along with Malcolm's topic. ]

That would be preferable. But Neal can cook, as well? Sounds like you got lucky with the inmate assignment. I feel sorry for whoever ends up with me.

[Malcolm has disappointed him somehow. He recognizes that he’s more concerned about that than he is with most people.]

I’d feel lucky if I had you as an inmate. But Neal’s great, too. He’s a good person, fundamentally. A little hungry for attention, but that’s normal in cases of childhood neglect.

[ If there's anything that helps Will feel like his non-Breach self, it might be catching onto someone's feelings while they're happening. He stops moving for a moment, his mouth opening a bit as he works through it. He licks his lips and looks up at Malcolm. ]

Maybe I should call that profiler feedback. What's wrong?

I said something wrong. I... don't know exactly what. It happens with me a lot. With a lot of people, I mean. It just... I'm usually fine with it and I don't know why it's bothering me more than usual now. I guess your respect is particularly important to me.

[ Will can't help it- he laughs a little. ]

You want to know what was wrong? I made a dumb, inappropriate joke and you didn't follow me on it like Hannibal would've. I'm just... [ He shakes his head. ] -missing him. It's nothing to do with you.

You do have my respect, you know. I wouldn't have reached out for your help, if you didn't.

Edited 2023-04-08 00:21 (UTC)

[Malcolm smiles at his knees before looking over.]

You guys had banter, huh? I am... not usually included in banter. Bit... unpracticed at it.

It was more like I'd insult him viciously and he'd manage to take it and respond in some irritatingly smug manner, but-

[ Will looks to the side, clearing remembering it fondly. ] I suppose it did turn into banter, the further along we got.

You could always give it a try, sometime. It's more fun than you'd think to intentionally make people uncomfortable, even if they don't go along with it.

[He does usually do it unintentionally.

Bright, you’re doing that thing where you… trail off and make everyone uncomfortable.

He smiles.]

I’ll have to keep an eye out for the opportunity.

[ Will smiles back. He's actually looking fairly steady, if pale. ]

If only we'd worked together. I mean, I doubt it would've lasted long, since you're actually concerned about my well-being. But we could've had a couple of fun cases together.

I know a lot of self-care for the traumatized and self-destructive in dangerous proximity to their psychopathic abusers, so maybe you wouldn’t have been, like… totally destroyed by the work if you worked with me.

[ Will chuckles. ]

Maybe not. It would've been less of a bad idea, anyway.

[ He blinks, and then blinks again. ] Okay, I- I think I might need sleep, soon. I think I could.

[ That's notable, between the two of them. ]

Really? That's great! [He gets up.] If you need anything, just give me a call. Tea, soup, whatever. I'll bring it right by.

Okay.

[ Will closes his eyes, feeling that comfortable sort of exhaustion that sort of slides around you like a pillow. Sleeping tends to hit Will fairly fast, but this is a little exceptional, even so. He'd been holding onto that adrenaline for awhile. ]

I'll remember. Thanks, Malcolm.

[Malcolm tucks his blanket around him a little better, then slips out of the cabin.]

[ Unfortunately for Will, you can't really hole up in your room 24/7 when you have a dog to walk. And double unfortunately for Will, as he's out walking the dog, he's spotted by Dimitri, who's obviously death-tolling (pale, slightly wobbly, doesn't look so hot) and is headed back to his room.

As Dimitri looks at Will, he can't help but snarl. ]

You.

[ And then he walks towards the man, obviously intent on blood, very much looking like he's ready to fight. ]

[ Oh, hey. This is probably not the best situation ever. He was sort of hoping the guy he murdered would be less high-strung on the ship, but he can't say he really expected anything else. Will bends down to Winston, makes a couple of 'chz' sounds and points down the hall. Winston wags his tail and runs that direction, away from Dimitri.

That gives Will just enough time to stand back up and face Dimitri with a fairly blank stare. He's death-tolling, too, looking pale and sweaty. The way his eyebrows knit together indicates that he has a pretty significant headache. But it's almost back to his normal amount of ill-looking, so maybe he's doing a little better? ]

Dimitri? Is that your name here, too?

[ Will's only answer to that question is a snarl before Dimitri scowls, moves his fist back, and immediately tries to punch Will in the face.

If Will is doing a little better, Dimitri would like to make it otherwise. ]

[ Will doesn't put his hands up- hell, he doesn't even close his eyes. He just stands there as it happens, the punch connecting just under his left eye and nose.

He stumbles back and coughs, spitting a little blood on the floor. He supports himself from collapsing with his hands on his knees. Ow. ]

Uch...guess that's fair.

You killed me! [ Dimitri yells. Yes, it wasn't Will. But Dimitri's not really thinking much at the moment. All he knows is that he died, Will killed him, the memory of that man's knife in his back. ]

You monster, [ he snarls. ]

[ Okay, he's not getting hit or stabbed or whatever, so Will slowly stands back up. He continues to face Dimitri with a stoic, blank expression. He's reminded of Frederick Chilton, burned beyond recognition, trying to form words that were very similar.

But this is different. This wasn't righteous. It wasn't interesting. It was just his mind getting twisted up by a disease. He clears his throat and carefully speaks. ]

I don't know you. Not here.

Don't say that, [ he hisses. ] We served together, we—

[ That was a different Will. Dimitri pauses, anger still radiating from his expression, obviously still tense and on edge as he swears, shaking his head. That wasn't Will. He needs to keep reminding himself of this. ]

Damn the Admiral and damn that...whatever it was, [ he grumbles, trying to force his thoughts back in order. And then, saying it like he's trying to convince himself, ] You don't know me. And yet here I am, still suffering for it.

[ Will takes deep, even breaths as Dimitri works through the situation, something that gets a little more difficult as he feels his nose start to swell. It's not like Will doesn't have some of the same feelings. He gets confused often as to what he should be remembering, and probably will for awhile.

But this murderer? It's not a part of himself he wants to hang onto. ]

Yeah. For...what it's worth, I'm sorry for whatever part of me might've influenced that Will. I don't know how this breach stuff works. Or is supposed to work.

I don't know either, [ he admits, ] but what I do know is that it's cheap. The Admiral gives people an entire life's worth of memories and then somehow expect us to go on like nothing has happened?

[ he's still trying to calm himself down, still worked up due to the breach, still very much a powder keg about to go off if tapped at the worst moment. ]

Well, the one thing I have heard is that the memories are supposed to fade over the next couple of weeks. Ideally, it should feel more like a dream soon.

I have my doubts, but I'm guessing our only option is waiting it out.

[ He gets it, even if he's rigged less like a powder keg and more like a supernova about to implode. ]

If that's the case, then that makes breaches even more nonsensical. Why make someone suffer through something if they're just going to forget it in the next few weeks?

I don't know. [ He shakes his head, eyes looking distantly down the hall. ] Wish I did.

I'm going to hope that this one was unusually bad. And that we got particularly unlucky.

Did you- [ He finally looks Dimitri in the eye again. ] Had you heard anything about breaches before this hit? I did, but I had to ask.

[ Dimitri shakes his head. This is why you post to the network, you dingus, and don't just skulk around like a creepy little recluse. ]

I had no idea what was happening until after it happened.

Hmm.

[ He frowns. He's not exactly the most gregarious person, himself, and doesn't think they should be punished for that. ]

There should be an announcement sometime beforehand, for new arrivals. Or something. I can't imagine going into that blind.

[ He'd be far less functional than he currently is, that's for sure. ]

Going into it was easy. Coming out of it was the troublesome part.

True.

[ Maybe an announcement after the fact would be better. For now, they just had to deal with the fallout. ]

Listen...I know this question is- [ He shakes his head. ] But is your name still Dimitri here? I'm still Will Graham, but there are several people who ended up with completely different identities. I've been trying to...sort them out.

[ He nods. ]

Dimitri Blaiddyd. [ And because it's a useful question... ] Do you know who ended up with a different identity? There were a few people who I met in the breach for the first time.

I know a few. My brother, Harkin? He usually goes by Sweeney around here. But he'll answer to Harkin just fine. His old spotter, Addy- Adeline. Her name's Laura.

[ He rubs his chin. Who else? ]

Uh. Sebastian Sims is Sebastian Michaelis, so that's close. Mason Walker is named Raylan, I think? And his brother, Noah Walker is Malcolm Bright. He's a therapist here.

As for the other Guardians, I mostly don't know. Ah- Zhao Yunlan is still the same, though. Pretty sure Trixie's name didn't change, either.

[ Dimitri nods. There's a moment before he lets out an annoyed little sigh. ]

I suppose I should probably make a network post explaining that my name is still the same.

Couldn't hurt anything. Most people probably met you for the first time in the Breach.

[ He shakes his head. ]

And here I thought-- Have you heard of floods? That's another thing that can happen here. Something smaller changes on the Barge. When I arrived, the inmates were classified as wardens and vice versa.

[ Dimitri frowns, obviously listening to Will. There's a confused little expression on his face before, ]

Do those things happen often?

Floods happen about every other month, from what I've heard. Breaches a few times a year. Basically, you can't count on it, but that's usually how it goes. Before the breach, I had a couple of people tell me we were 'due' for one.

[ He rubs his chin, thoughtful. ]

Maybe we should ask, in general, what the floods have been like. I've only been through the one.

A sensible and smart idea. I can ask when I'm inevitably forced into conversation with various other people on this ship.

Yeah, that is unfortunately going to happen. They're big on talking things out around here. Although there is a counselor that likes to fight. Kiryu, I think his name is.

[ They aren't the same people, but he suspects Dimitri is still used to physical confrontations. Will's face hurts. ]

[ Dimitri is used to physical confrontations. At the mention of Kiryu, something close to a smile passes his face. It lasts for a moment before, ]

I've met Kiryu already. I'm certainly going to want to continue my training here—I'll make sure to seek him out again.

[ Will nods, looking at least a little pleased. ]

Figured you might work well together, if you're anything at all like you were back in the breach.

[ And yeah, he should address that: ]

Driven, I mean. I am- hopefully- at least a bit less whiny, myself. Can I ask what you're training for?

Just to train, [ he shrugs. ] I like working out and keeping my body in top form.

Besides, just because I'm dead that doesn't mean I should stop improving myself.

[ Will chuckles lightly. ] Some people would argue with you that that's exactly what that means.

-but I'm not one of them. Honestly, I should probably get into the gym myself, now that I'm not in life-threatening situations constantly. Don't want to get flabby.

Edited 2023-03-28 21:10 (UTC)

If you ever want someone to spot you while training, feel free to ask.

Yeah? Thank you. I might.

[ He gingerly touches his nose, managing to not flinch. Yeah, that's going to look rough in a few hours. ]

I should probably go put some ice on this. ...and make sure my dog's not getting into anything he shouldn't.

If you want an apology, it's not going to happen.

[ just saying! ]

But yes. Ice it up and I suspect we'll see each other again soon.

[ The comment gets a sudden laugh from Will. He smiles, looking a lot more relaxed. ]

I wasn't fishing for anything, I promise. See you later, Dimitri.

[ He turns away. Time to go find Winston. ]

So that's pretty convenient, right?

[ Will had just been about to call her. He sounds amused. ]

Feels like someone's been paying attention on their ship.

It's about time. I've been here two and a half months and you're my first.

See? Just had to find someone that fit with your style of wardening.

Guess I did. So. Let's talk about revenge.

Okay.

Did you know the temp warden system was enacted because of my problem psychiatrist? He... did what he does, when unsupervised.

He was here? When?

About a decade ago, along with Abigail Hobbs. And Alana Bloom. Don't know if I've told you about either of them.

Iris remembered. She was here for it.

Edited 2023-04-16 03:59 (UTC)

You haven't. But, uh-- go for it. I'm listening.

[ She can hear him take a deep breath, in and out, before he starts. ]

Abigail Hobbs was the daughter of the first person I killed, Garret Jacob Hobbs. That was the serial killer that Hannibal and I first investigated, and Hannibal called him beforehand to ensure that our visit to his house would be bloody and violent. I shot him to keep him from murdering Abigail, but he still managed to cut her throat.

I felt responsible for her, so I watched over her in the hospital and tried to help her when she recovered. Hannibal used her ear to frame me for her murder, but she didnt die until- well. [ He sighs. ] Hannibal killed her a few months later.

She came here as an inmate, was here for Hannibal's arrival- he claimed to be her father for three months. She was here the longest, and she graduated. Went to live with a girlfriend she connected with here. I think Iris said her name was Elena.

...I was wanting to get a Deal for her. Eventually. Looks like that's unnecessary now.

[Over on her end of the line, Shaw's jaw works, and when she speaks, her voice is a little tighter than usual.]

Must suck to show up and realize people you know have all this history here. You know what happened to Hannibal?

He didn't graduate, which is not a surprise. He was here about ten months. Fairly quiet, after his three-person sounder. He knew he'd only get one feast.

[ He's quiet on the line for possibly too long. When he speaks again, his breath has the catch of someone who got caught dozing. ]

I held onto the link for his network post when he finally 'revealed' himself, so to speak. If you want to see it.

Yeah, actually, I would.

When did you find all this out?

[ He texts the link over. ]

About a week ago. I'd been looking into the network, curious how far back it went and worried about this- this, exactly. Only got a couple years back before I gave up and talked to Iris.

So it's been a week since you lost a big long-term goal of yours. How've you been doing with that?

I've been better. Iris helped...soften things, some. And then I got drunk with Harkin. Talked to Malcolm some. And now I'm talking to you.

I don't know what I intended to get out of all of that. I hadn't even decided that was what I really wanted to do, get a Deal for Abigail. But it was sort of at the back of my mind. Now there's confirmation that there's nothing I can do to help. This sort of loss, it feels...familiar.

Yeah? Not your first time?

I've watched Abigail get her throat cut twice, now.

This? It's a gentle reminder that I should stop pretending that I could be her Dad.

How old is she?

Nineteen. Old enough to figure herself out on her own.

Still young enough that she shouldn't have had to, though. I don't know when her father started hunting with her- fifteen, sixteen? Probably sometime around there. She often seemed more that age.

All kids fly the nest eventually. Even if she ended up somewhere else - my guess? You weren't nothing to her. What you did for her wasn't nothing.

I-

[ He doesn't want to talk about her. Not anymore. It hurts. He tries his best to picture her, older, talking with another woman. Smiling, happy. And not pierced through with antlers and hung up on a mounted display. That vision is still so strong, even with being a false memory. ]

I think I only made things worse. Or- me and Hannibal- between the two of us. We definitely made things worse. It's just. Sometimes you have to stop trying to fix things.

Especially when she figured it out on her own. I am glad, for that.

Mm, giving a crap always makes a difference.

[She pauses, then clarifies--]

It isn't always enough. It definitely doesn't always fix things. And yeah, sometimes it makes stuff worse. But if there's one thing I've learned from my current job; from my team at home - it still matters when you try.

If you were there, and trying, and she knew it? It meant something.

[Another pause.]

Don't beat yourself up about it, is what I'm saying.

[ He's quiet on the other side of the line for a very long time, just thinking it through, agreeing, and trying to convince the part of him that's not logical of the same thing.

At least he cared. It feels like a pretty shitty consolation prize, if he's honest. But hopefully it meant something to Abigail. ]

Yeah. Okay.

Thanks.

[This message comes relatively early on on the first day of the flood, when Shaw has figured out that something is off, but can't quite pinpoint what, beyond the occasional fake memory that sticks out like a sore thumb.]

Hey. You okay?

Uh...

Yeah. I think so. [ He does not sound sure. ]

Did something happen?

I don't know. Flood, maybe, but--

[She hesitates briefly.]

I'm remembering stuff weird. Anything strange going on with you?

[ 'You have been tampered with, Will.' The voice is right in his ear and he jumps back with an audible gasp. He sees Hannibal standing right next to him, frowning, and he breathes heavily. This is very Not Ideal. ]

Hang on a minute. I- uh. I've got to check something. My- my dreams. Hang on.

[ He mutes the communicator and goes into a mostly pointless and ultimately annoying conversation with his imaginary friend. It does not turn up much. He doesn't take more than 20 seconds before he's on the line again. ]

I- I think I've got some gaps. More gaps than I used to. No idea where, though. And I had nightmares, but that's normal. Nothing unusual, I think...

Yeah, has to be a flood. It's time, right?

[ Please let that be it. ]

The last one was earlier in the month, but, uh-- I guess they're not on any kind of exact schedule.

I'm gonna repeat that question now, though.

[YOU OKAY, BUDDY]

If I'm missing time, then...not doing great, no.

[ And now he's committed to figuring this out. ]

You said you're remembering stuff 'weird'? How so?

Pretty sure I've never teleported into somebody's bedroom because I wanted to take on her sadness. But I... did.

[She remembers that she did. It's so clear in her mind.]

What, uh-- what about you? You said more gaps than you're used to; are you used to some gaps?

[ It takes him a long moment to process that first sentence, because it barely makes sense. Teleported? And by the time he parses it, she's asking him more questions, and-- okay, they'll focus on him for a moment. He breathes out a laugh. ]

Yeah, I- I think I mentioned having encephalitis. There's a lot of lost time during that, and a lot of that time I was with Hannibal. Pretty sure he was messing with me while that happened.

But this is- I don't know where, or when, but there's some parts missing. I'm seeing it as broken pieces missing in a mirror.

[As they chat, she casually peeks at her warden item, checking on where on the ship he is right now.]

What about anything that's there that shouldn't be?

[ He doesn't have an early shift at the kennels today, so he is- thankfully- in his cabin. ]

Uh...[ A pause and a sigh. ] Honestly? It's hard to tell. I've got a lot of shadows in here already, leftovers from people I profiled and bits of people here. Um, let me focus on sense memory-

[ Another pause and then: ]

Well, I've never been to England before, pretty sure. Or fought off tentacle monster aliens...with folk dancing. So I guess that's a yes.

And you haven't been around enough to see more than one breach.

[She murmurs, mulling this over.]

Neither have I. Think we're getting stuff from past breaches that we missed?

Mmmm.

[ He presents himself with that possibility, and starts pacing in his room. It's not the best place to think, but it's probably the best place on the boat. ]

No- no. It doesn't have the right 'flavor' to the emotions. This one wasn't me, not even a different me. Feels more...light. Like a rainbow. Have you- wait, are you getting emotions through yours?

[She pauses before answering - twenty or thirty seconds from her, too.]

Yeah.

[ He waits quietly. All of this internal cataloguing tends to take a while, and he's more aware of that than most. When she confirms it, he blows out his entire breath in a sigh. ]

That's got to be strange, for you. Okay, so they're other people's, probably. So this small-town England one...

[ He trails off, sitting down and absently patting Winston's head as he replays it again. ]

Ah- Iris. It's Iris. Or it was Iris. I ended up testing out her touch telepathy- might be more like a supernatural empathy, actually. She felt like this, then.

Okay...okay.

[ He's trying to reassure himself- they have something here. They can figure it out. ]

Oh, god.

[She groans, kneading her forehead over on her end of the line.]

Fighting aliens with folk dancing - of course that was Iris.

Is it worse literally being in their heads, or doing your empathy thing?

Well. So far, all I've got to compare is Iris, and she's- she's not bad, either way. Her ability is more controlled, but- it's stronger than what I do. More raw, more direct.

[ If she wanted, Iris could do so much damage with it. He doesn't say that. ]

So you're mostly... losing stuff.

I can't really tell what I've lost. There's some gaps, but I don't know how much of that is just-- me.

Not...necessarily. I know how to look for missing memories, but I have so many times I've put myself in someone else's shoes, that have formed memories of their own- it'll take me some time to see if anything's been added.

You should be able to pick out the, uh, emotional memories, a little easier, I'd think. You already had gaps, though?

There was this whole... thing I went through at home. It left a lot of my brain kinda screwy.

[Truthfully, false memories and missing time aren't nearly as big an issue as she worries they might be - but the concern is still there regardless.]

Oh, the...simulations. Damn. Right.

[ Will takes a break to rub his face and sigh, deeply. ]

All right. What can we do? I'd like to know what I've got, so I can have an idea of how different I might be now.

[ Not that it might matter. They might not be able to do anything about it. ]

You think it'll all go back, after the Flood? Don't know if I can just...wait it out. [ But maybe it's an option. ]

You try going through your life, from beginning to end? It's not exactly an efficient method, and you could still miss stuff, but that should help you catch the big things.

Yeah. [ Small sigh. ] It's the big things I'm more worried about. Things that could change who I am. I have enough issues getting 'pieces' of other people, already, I don't need to be...diluted.

But I'll probably work backwards. Maybe...sections of two or three years.

We could try going by topic, too. You remember the encephalitis. You remember Hannibal; you remember that he was using the encephalitis as an excuse to mess with you. What else do you remember about Hannibal messing with you? Is there anything that feels only half-remembered or out of place, like there's a piece missing to the story?

Okay, well-

[ He laughs, and it sounds just a little manic. ]

Hannibal's entire wheelhouse is 'messing with people,' me especially. The only times he wasn't, I was messing with him. I still know that much, at least. But let me think. There was a lot of back and forth...

[ He plays through significant times for them both. He's watching for leaps in emotions, instead of the watercolor-type smear from one to another he's used to. Usually, that's indicative of him glomming onto someone else's feelings, but now there's more to look for. He's quiet for a full minute, and then there's a sharp intake of breath. ]

Oh. Well. That's awkward.

You find something missing?

[ He considers lying, but there's not much point. It's not like anyone's working with a full deck here. He doesn't know what might be important. ]

Yeah, I- [ He breathes out. ] We were working a case. Maulings. One of Hannibal's patients looked like a good fit for it, but- he got through an interview just fine. Once I got home, one of the dogs was crying outside- Buster. I thought there was maybe a coyote, but--

And then I'm setting Hannibal's dead patient on his dining room table. My knuckles are bloody. That was Randall Tier, I think.

How far away is his house from yours?

[It might seem like a meaningless bit of information, but she's trying to narrow down timeframes here, and whether one of the things he's missing is the duration of a five-minute drive versus a two-hour drive makes a big difference.]

[ It's not the question he expects, but he can tell what she's getting at. ]

That's an hour's drive. At least. It was late, so probably not much traffic. But it would've taken me some time to move the body. So probably about an hour and a half, total?

Do you remember if your knuckles hurt? Were they split open?

Oh, yeah. They were a mess. Hannibal bandaged them up for me. I was- I'd been trying to get him to trust me. He's so careful, it was the only way to catch him. So I just...told him we were even. No hard feelings about the attempted murder-by-proxy.

[ He's mildly uncomfortable, saying it. But he's not sure why- he clearly went forward with that plan. ]

Think that's why you brought the perp's body to him?

I'm guessing so, yeah.

-plus, he'd want to cook him.

Would he have been suspicious if you hadn't brought him the body?

Suspicious of what? I mean, I'm pretty sure I killed that guy. Nothing to obfuscate, there. It's what he wanted.

[ He sighs. He's starting to get annoyed. He knows this is an outside effect. But why couldn't he just remember what happened, now that he knows? ]

He might've been disappointed, if I reported it to the police. Called it self-defense, whether it had been or not. So maybe that's what I wanted to avoid.

Suspicious of your intentions, I mean. If you were trying to gain his trust.

[... But.]

Right now, if he were here. Would you worry about disappointing him?

[ Will laughs. It's not even bitter, just amused. ]

I have never- [ Wait, let's amend that. ] I don't remember ever being worried about that.

This time...the only reason to avoid disappointing him would be to foster more of his trust. And yeah, maybe he would've wondered about my intentions if I didn't go all out? It wasn't like we'd get another chance.

So maybe I made the decision on my own, to take the body over there- I probably would've kept Jack informed, at least. He was the only other one in on the plan to catch Hannibal.

Whose idea was it, yours or Jack's? You remember that?

Mine. But I imagine Jack would've floated the idea my way eventually, once he finally believed what I'd been telling him.

Edited 2023-04-21 03:16 (UTC)

It just kinda seems... weird, for the FBI. Don't those guys usually work on bigger teams than one consultant and one-- whatever Jack is?

[ He chuckles. ]

Oh, this wasn't official. We'd tried some official channels- I'd tried all of them, and Hannibal was untouchable. This was very illegal. And personal, for both of us.

Jack was the head of the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI, by the way. A little embarrassing to have one of the most prolific modern serial killers working under you there.

Edited 2023-04-21 17:20 (UTC)

Sure, but he works you to the bone. You're just a weapon to him. And people like me, we can be weapons; it doesn't get to us. But people like you--

[She cuts herself off, frustrated. Frustrated, and not at all realizing that she's talking about things that Will himself has never actually told her.]

People like me break. And we'll never be the same again.

...how do you know what he's like, but you didn't know his position at the BAU?

[ Will can guess, but he's not sure how entrenched whatever memory she has of Jack is going to be. ]

I don't know, I--

[Remember.]

Did you tell me?

This is the first time we've actually talked about him. I think.

Do you remember anything else about him? You know what he looks like?

Doughy black guy, looks like a paper-pusher.

[She pauses as the realization of what this means sinks in.]

Oh, crap.

Yeah. Sounds like you got my emotions leaking in, too.

[ But now that they have this, they can look into it. Maybe they can figure out how the flood works, without having to ask other people. ]

Where do you remember seeing him? Anywhere in particular? What was he talking about?

I don't feel them now, I'm just... remembering how they felt.

[And feeling both annoyed and offended on his behalf.]

I think I am, anyway. It's kind of hard to-- quantify something I've never experienced like this before.

[But, okay. Facts she can focus on.]

You're in a really crappy-looking barn. There's a mutilated corpse hanging from the rafters.

[ Will hums in acknowledgement as Shaw explains the emotions situation. That has to be pretty confusing, but at least there's less of a possibility that emotions she doesn't feel are being forced on her. He's just not sure if it being just the memory of them is all that significant a difference. ]

Uh...hmm. Sorry, you might have to be more specific. Dealt with a lot of mutilated corpses.

A lot of mutilated corpses strung up from the rafters of a barn?

[She can't really judge. She's not really judging. But it sure does speak to the kind of life he lives, and the things that he's subjected to.]

Okay, uh-- the guy did it to himself, somehow. Flayed his back open, strung himself up, turning himself into an angel. Trying to absolve himself of his sins. And I knew what we'd find there when we pulled up.

[She pauses just a little too long here.]

You did, I mean.

[ Will just shrugs at the question. He doesn't remember any barn corpses, but he's still not entirely sure what's happening. He knows he's missing one memory. But beyond that- yes, his life has been full of mutilated corpses.

As Shaw talks, it clears the case up entirely. He doesn't even notice the fact that she's having trouble with her perspective. ]

...Elliot Buddish. The guy with the brain tumor. Right? And Jack was with me.

[ He's not sure, but he knows the case details. ]

You told him you needed to quit, and he guilted you and condescended to you about it.

[a.k.a. yes, Jack was with him.]

I had been doing poorly, especially with this case. Getting into those heads was causing me problems. And I could just see it continuing on forever.

[ He's silent for a moment, feeling something swirling around as he tries to remember it. There wasn't shouting, but Jack lectured him, didn't he? It's fuzzy. ]

What did he say? He brought up...how successful we'd been. That I'd caught three so far. But we hadn't caught Buddish, he'd ended his own life.

Edited 2023-04-23 02:06 (UTC)

He told you that you could quit if you wanted to. But he didn't mean it, and you knew it.

[ You wanna quit? Quit. Will can hear it clearly in his mind. The rest starts to leak back in, then. He closes his eyes and gently encourages it to play out. ]

...yeah. He was always like that. Telling me I had a choice, but- not actually giving me a choice. I actually told him it was bad for me, there, huh?

If I had stopped there...no. I would've had to move to the west coast or something. Hannibal already had me running wounded.

Which Mister Behavioral Analysis should have figured out.

You'd think, huh? I doubt he would've called the unit that, if he had the option.

Well, I've got the memory back now, so I guess we've figured out how this flood works.

You sure? I still remember it.

[Though, now that she thinks of it--]

No, wait.

[She says that, and then she pauses again, trying to tease out exactly what's making her hesitate here. There are multiple things, none of them so immediately obvious as to be recognizable right away.]

I remember it, but I don't remember it as you. Your feelings, the way they work - I don't have them anymore. Not for this.

[Not for this. But, she thinks, maybe for other things.]

[ It's interesting, and he wants to ask her how she feels about it, now that she can look from the outside. But something she says makes him pause. ]

...not for this?

"I think I might have a lot of you," she admits, her brow creasing. "So, uh, sorry about that."

Will scoffs a bit at that. "Nothing to apologize for. It's the way this place is. You...recognize how I feel, now that you have an example? Is that making it easier to identify?"

Edited 2023-04-23 20:51 (UTC)

Easier to identify as belonging to you, sure. Easier to separate out from everything else? Not really. I've worked for the government; I've met assholes like Crawford. It all blends.

Memory is a fragile thing.

Yeah...it is. This is going to be a real pain in the ass. And we have a week to do this? Probably about that long? Or maybe it'll all just return at the end, not that we can count on that.

[ Ugh. He sighs. ]

Still think he's an asshole, though? Even without my personal feelings getting in the way?

No, that opinion was all me. You weren't angry at him, you were... discouraged. Resigned.

[And she's trying not to sound too distracted, because of course he's right: they have absolutely no guarantee that things are going to sort themselves out when the flood ends. This could so easily be a one-shot chance kind of thing.]

Yeah, you're right. I am mad now, though.

He only got worse. Wriggled me around to try and catch Francis Dolarhyde later on, after I'd been out for three goddamned years.

[ He can feel himself getting animated and stops from expounding on that. They don't need to focus on this anymore- he's got the memory. Better to work on what they need to. ]

Okay, so- you have anything else jumping out at you that's mine? I'm trying to tell if maybe the opposite's true.

I've killed a lot of people.

[She says it matter-of-factly; there's no reason to hide it. Hell, the Barge being what it is, trying to hide it would probably backfire spectacularly if the truth ever came out.]

But, uh-- I was always an efficient killer. I found satisfaction in it, but that was because of the goal, not because of the process. But you-- you've killed people too, haven't you? And you... made statements out of the bodies.

[Or maybe just one body, one time. It's not as if she can tell for sure.]

[ Will is quiet for a long moment. It can't be Randall that Shaw's thinking about, right? Will remembers that one. He must've done it some other time. That seems like something he'd notice as missing. ]

That's...really more of Hannibal's thing. The art pieces.

What did I do?

You didn't kill this one.

[She it slowly, unspooling the memory as she goes.]

But you set up the body afterwards. You thought of it as Hannibal's doing, but-- no, it wasn't him. It was a woman. Chiyoh?

Chiyoh.

[ That really clears up when it could've happened. He feels his throat constrict. He's got a bad feeling about this one. ]

That was at his estate. Her prisoner, the- okay, now I'm seeing the gap. I let the prisoner go, I...knew he'd probably come back.

Sounds like he did.

You thought she might do the job herself. You wanted to see if she could. Yeah?

[ It leaks like an ice cube melting, dripping down into his mind. He knows he was curious. He'd gotten so far into Hannibal's head that it was practically a natural action. And she- ]

She blamed me. And she was...right to do so. I forced her to choose, death or murder.

She didn't shoot him. She stabbed him.

[ He's breathing heavily now, too quickly. These memories- the feelings- are not foreign. But for this brief window of time, he's wishing they were. ]

Yeah, you screwed her pretty bad. And I know you said you don't remember caring about pleasing Hannibal, but the more I hear, dude - it kinda sounds like you might.

[She says it matter-of-factly, with no room spared for trying to be gentle about it. But she hears that rapid, heavy breathing, and she takes a peek at her warden item, checking out where he is right now.]

You doing okay?

I- I had to find him so I could cut him out- but I...

[ He is still in his cabin, now on his couch. He hasn't moved, but what he does do is hang up the connection.

It's a panic response. He can feel things growing out of him, spikes and black feathers. But he'd already done this- he's already done this.

He shoves his communicator under a pillow and resolutely ignores it. ]

[And about fifteen minutes later, he gets a knock on the door. It's not hesitant, and it's loud enough to be difficult to ignore, but it's also lighter than her usual business-like rap: she's trying very hard to avoid making it sound angry.]

[ By the time she makes it there, Will has gotten himself a little more together. He's put on pants, too, which is probably appreciated. He opens the door and stares resolutely at their feet. ]

I don't have it all yet, do I? There are still faded parts.

I'm still having trouble separating out what's mine and what's yours. I feel like I worked for the FBI. But this body was arranged with a lot more, uh... reverence than I did with any of my kills, so I'm pretty sure that part isn't me.

[She just stands there, eyes on his face.]

Can I come in.

[ Will doesn't look up, but he does nod, and he backs away from the door.

Winston takes that as a sign that things are okay and walks up to Shaw with a tentative tail-wag and a sniff at her hand. Will lets out a sigh and sits on the couch. ]

I know I've got to get it back. I just- I'm not sure who I'm gonna be after that happens.

[Shaw offers Winston her hand to sniff, then pats him on the head and nudges him in Will's direction. Go hang with your master, buddy; he probably needs it.]

The same person you were before the flood.

[She says, leaning against the wall.]

Whoever that is, it'll be workable.

[ Winston follows the gesture, moving to lean against Will's legs. Will rubs Winston's neck and gets a couple of licks on his arm back. He nods at Shaw's words, but looks unsure. That last part seems fake. ]

I went to that place to try and find out who Hannibal really was. I had him so much on my mind that I thought it was the only way I could...separate out, his thoughts from mine. I'd felt tainted, by him.

So I went there and I 'did what he does'- as Chiyoh said. I didn't have to. I wanted to. I wanted her to be free from what Hannibal had done to her. But-

[ That wasn't all he wanted. He had been curious, too. He looks pained, as he shuts his eyes. ]

You said the kill felt 'reverent.' Like...worshipping a god?

[ He sounds mildly sarcastic about that idea. He's hoping that's not it. ]

Edited 2023-04-24 17:53 (UTC)

I wouldn't go that far. It was more like--

[It comes to her suddenly, and her fingers fly down and press against the inside of her arm.]

I told you about my tattoos.

[She's finished up the rest of them, now: there are the ones she'd showed him earlier, as well as SEND ME above U.S.M.C.. INDIGO FIVE BETA on the inside of the opposite arm. The little outline of a phone booth on her ankle.]

You putting that body up on display? It wasn't bragging, wasn't trophy-collecting, wasn't something for anybody else but you. It felt kinda like how I felt, doing my tattoos.

[ And that he can understand. A respect. An acknowledgment of what had been done there- no, what had been accomplished. Chiyoh knew what she was capable of, then. And so did Will.

He bites his lip, as he remembers the glass, the snails, the trembling orange of the candlelight. The way he chose mostly natural materials, because that's what he likes.

His shoulders slide back and he stops looking like he's expecting to fight an invisible monster. His breathing evens out. ]

I made him into a firefly. To acknowledge what we'd done, together, there. I think, that's when I actually knew.

[ Will looks up at Shaw, finally. ]

I wasn't trying to cut Hannibal out. I was seeking him out. Because I love him.

[... Ah.

Well, whatever she'd expected, it hadn't quite been that; her eyebrows even jump a little at the revelation. But that said, it doesn't not make sense.]

Okay.

[She says, studying him carefully.]

You weren't sure who you were gonna be when you got this back. How're you feeling about that now?

[ It felt strange to say it outright like that, after years of incremental denials, then resigned acceptance, then joyful but silent acceptance. And he realizes that if he ever sees Hannibal again, he's going to have to say it to that smug, infuriating face.

He doesn't exactly smile, but everything in his body language has relaxed. He looks around his cabin as he thinks about just 'how he is feeling'. He scritches Winston behind the ears, and the dog's tail thumps against the couch. ]

I feel like things make more sense, now. There's 'losing myself', and then there's 'not wanting to acknowledge what I already am'. I was doing the latter.

Okay. And what are you, besides a man who's in love with Hannibal?

I am unconstrained.

[She just raises an eyebrow expectantly, waiting for more. Come on, Will; "unconstrained" can mean a lot of things. Details.]

[ He stares back at her for a moment, then sighs a bit. ]

If I ask you what you are, how do you respond? With your jobs? Your condition? Your moral code?

Sure, all of the above. Me, I'd pick that kind of thing over an adjective.

How did you get all of those? How did you choose your jobs, how did you choose the code you live by?

Influence from my parents. A desire to help people and make society better.

[That eyebrow is only arching higher.]

You finding your way to a point?

I'm trying.

[ His mouth pulls back into a line, almost an apologetic smile. He knows that this is annoying, but it's what he's got.

He decides to swerve a bit for something most people find more straight-forward. Not any less honest but focused more specifically on him. ]

Me, it was all my condition. All doctors and what I can handle and what I couldn't. It ruined my father's life, it ruined my life. I struggled under it, until I finally found something I could do for work. Then I only had that for a couple of years until someone-- Jack- found a way to exploit it. And then it ruined me all over again. And took a bunch of people with it, this time.

But in that ruination, I found a way to struggle free. It doesn't have to be something that only hurts, me and others. I can tame it, I can aim it. It's mine.

So now- I can do what I want. I finally have some agency in my life...now that I'm dead.

[I'm trying just gets a small nod, and plenty of time to get his words out. She knows patience isn't exactly one of her strong suits, but, well. She can try, too.]

It sucks that it had to come to that. You got any idea what you want to do, now that you're out from under Jack and Hannibal's thumbs?

[ And this is harder to answer. He blows out a breath in a sigh. ]

I'm working on that. I'd been focused on Abigail, but that's done, now. Something that utilizes my...ability, the way I want. Probably.

[ More quietly: ] I have a lot to re-evaluate. It would probably help if my mind didn't feel like gumbo.

[... Well. There is one obvious thing.]

You think you're gonna have any use for a magic deal after you graduate, Will?

[ He chuckles quietly. ]

Uh...well. I don't think bringing Hannibal back is gonna be on the table, so- not really?

But it's not like everyone is here for a deal. Maybe.

[There's the soft sound of a chair scraping back on hard flooring, and footsteps as she gets up to pace.]

This is a crappy place to make a life long-term, Will. Use it for what it's good for, then figure something else out. You can help people at home, too.

I'd give you a job. I ever tell you about the kind of work I do?

[She knows she hasn't. She also knows that he could possibly have picked up on a few things.]

[ Is it a bad place to live? Iris seems happy here. Maybe it just takes a certain type of person. Will puts that elsewhere to think about later. ]

You haven't, but- federal. Not FBI, though. Black ops? CIA?

Not anymore, I'm with a freelance team now. Small, under the table, off the books - completely, not just officially. My boss is-- he's a good guy.

We save people by trying to stop violent crimes while they're still in the planning stages.

I can appreciate a rogue group. How do you stop violent crimes before they happen, though? That's...you can't be sure they'll go through with something. Right?

Mm, we keep an eye on things and do pretty extensive recon. We're not... preemptively taking people out or imprisoning them based on hunches or thought crimes, if that's what you're worried about. Boss'd throw a fit.

[ Will smiles a bit at that. ]

Glad to hear it. Better than the things Jack would start yelling about, anyway.

[ He sort of distractedly pets Winston as he thinks, imagines what it would be like to be in that sort of situation. A separate group, on their own, doing what they think is right. ]

I'm guessing I don't have to go into how badly I usually work with a team.

However bad you are, there's no way you're worse than Root.

[She sits down finally, cross-legged on the floor instead of taking a chair (... or dog bed) .]

When I got back from that whole captivity thing, they needed back-up; we couldn't really afford for me to take time off. They all made me sit out a week anyway, to make sure I rested and recovered or whatever. That whole thing with Jack? Wouldn't've happened to you with us, or any solid team.

[OOC: just noticed that five-ish tags up I forgot this was action now and switched back to audio formatting; I am so sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me this week!]

[ Winston can't help it- someone is on the floor. And Will seems- well, more normal-ish, as much as he ever is. So Winston trots over to request some pets from Shaw.

Will, meanwhile, nods appreciatively at Shaw's description of an enforced recuperation from work. She's not the type to lie, but it still feels weird to him, the idea that even a bunch of rogues would take care of each other better. Having faith that someone would at least try to back you up when you needed help-- wait, he had that once before, didn't he?

He narrows his eyes and then sighs, as he realizes it's not his memory. It's brief, though. He rubs his eyes and then looks to Shaw. ]

Uh- think I just remembered something of yours. Did your group work with something called The Machine?

[Shaw doesn't know if she'll ever stop feeling a sharp, sudden burst of suspicion when people on the Barge ask questions like this. Honestly, she hopes she never does stop. When it comes to graduating an inmate and working towards a deal, it's best to assume that the Barge is real and act accordingly - but when it comes to talking about home, and to sharing information that Decima and Sameritan would be all too happy to get their hands on, she can't lose sight of the fact that this could all be an elaborate ploy to get her to let her guard down and give away more than she should.]

Yeah.

[She says guardedly, rubbing a hand over Winston's back and letting him flop down in her lap.]

What do you remember?

[ He can feel the suspicion spike, bursting in his ears briefly like radio static. But that makes sense, and he's certainly not going to take offense at it. He'll talk to her about it, see how long it takes for her to get the rest. Because he knows how off-putting this is, and it sounds like sensitive information.

Although, as he starts, he laughs a little. ]

I think it's Root. Did she tase you and drug you and zip-tie you to a steering wheel? [ That might not be helpful, if Shaw doesn't have it, so he continues on. ] Uh, wavy brown hair, brown eyes, black leather jacket, about my height probably...pretty flippant about kidnapping.

[ He raises an eyebrow at Shaw. Does that sound right? ]

[Whoopsie-daisy, is she about to be called out for thinking Hannibal is clearly bad news while she has Root lurking in her history? The fact that she doesn't look remotely surprised upon hearing this story is probably telling, but she at least has the grace to look mildly sheepish about it.]

Yeah, she, uh-- she got better about that. Mostly.

[But not until well after Shaw started sleeping with her, so really, feel free to judge away, Will.]

She zip-tied me to a steering wheel? Not a chair?

[ The slight amusement is as far as Will intends to judge, promise. Because while Root might enjoy a little kidnapping and tasering, Will is pretty sure she's not an unrepentant cannibal. (although hey, who knows?) ]

No, it was definitely a steering wheel. I think Root just wanted you to listen for a bit. She kept calling the Machine 'she', and said that it needed her help. That the first part of that was getting your help.

You were, understandably, pretty mad about the whole thing. Apparently, the Machine talking to Root was unusual? You didn't expect it.

Edited 2023-04-26 19:27 (UTC)

So really early days, then.

[Shaw murmurs, half to herself.]

She say anything about us keeping her locked up?

No...

[ And he was going to continue on, but as he processes that, he has to raise an eyebrow. ]

You kept her locked up?

To be fair to us, the drugging and kidnapping and tasering habit wasn't a one-time thing.

[The locking up is something that Shaw doesn't particularly regret, though she feels more conflicted about the involuntary commitment to a mental hospital than about the extra-judicial imprisonment at their home base. Purposefully keeping her in places where she was cut off from the Machine, though, is something she wishes they'd done differently.]

I decided to go with her, didn't I. She convinced me.

[ Will just nods in acknowledgement at the reasoning. He knows it's something he's particularly sensitive about, but he doesn't know all the details. He's not going to judge. ]

You did. She said something about your father. Gave you a date. Pissed you off, but I think it convinced you that The Machine trusted her. And that she wasn't lying about trying to save people. Or- no. Save The Machine, but that would save people.

Smug little asshole.

[Shaw murmurs, closing her eyes as the memory starts to leak its way back into her.]

Yeah, that was a couple years ago. We went on a quest to save this guy who ended up joining her nerd squad and being pretty useful to us later on, so. Things turned out okay.

[ Will smiles slightly as Shaw clearly starts to remember. Okay, they're really getting the hang of how this works. ]

Had a feeling. And yeah- she clearly didn't care about you holding a knife up to her throat. Was that the first time you met?

Second. Or, third, depending on how loosely we wanna define "met".

[Does Shaw shooting her in the shoulder and then holding her at gunpoint after she'd kidnapped and traumatized Finch count? A question for the ages.]

It was the first time we worked on the same side, though. And--

[Huh. She's never really thought about this in context before, but now that she is--]

I'm pretty sure it was when she decided that I was someone worth knowing.

[She remembers the look on Root's face when she'd gone back to make sure she got out of her end of their caper okay (a wise decision, considering she'd found Root facing down the enemy with a bulletless gun). In retrospect, the big, genuine smile Root had given her had been telling.]

[ Will can tell the feelings are sort of fading- which is nice, because it allows room for him to look back at it with almost an outsider's fondness, as a fun story. ]

Yeah? Figured it out pretty quick, then.

Did she join the rest of your team, later on, or did she mostly stick with her...uh, 'nerd squad'?

[Shaw, on the other hand, is perturbed by the process of the memory returning. She wants it back, of course, but feeling it fill out the empty space it had left behind is weird, almost as if she's experiencing it again for the first time. It's disorienting how the annoyance and frustration of that day in the car feels every bit as current and fresh as the dull thudding she's starting to recognize as her version of grief, and the warm oozing sensation she's starting to recognize as her version of love.]

No...

[She says slowly, trying to use the question as a way to reorder her thoughts.]

No, she was dangerous. To us, I mean. And Finch thought she might be dangerous to the Machine.

[The fact that she hasn't explained the Machine to Will doesn't ping her radar; she's half-talking to herself here, anyway.]

He locked her up in a room at the library. She wanted to help, but he didn't trust her yet.

[ Will gives her time, because- yeah. It's been rough getting the memories back on his end anyway, and it's probably worse for her. He'll let her talk it out. ]

That's understandable. But from what I'm remembering, Root was anthropomorphizing the Machine. She clearly felt strongly for it.

I mean, that doesn't mean she wasn't dangerous to it. But it helps. How long was she locked up?

Yeah. Finch was wrong.

[Shaw leans back against the wall, slouching, letting Winston flop onto her more fully.]

We kept her in the library for a few months. She wanted to help us out because that's what the Machine wanted her to do, but, uh-- trust has to be earned, you know? Eventually we cut her loose. She mostly did her own thing for a while, showing back up if she needed us for something or if we needed her. She was always jetting around the world, doing crazy stuff.

[Her voice grows quieter. Fonder.]

She didn't get hired on the way the rest of us did; there was no one conversation or decision or turning point. It just... happened gradually. But it did happen. She became one of us.

[ Will smiles slightly, hearing all that. He doesn't need his condition to tell how important Root is to Shaw. How unique she was. ]

Your team is so important to you.

[ An obvious statement, but it sheds new light on her telling Will that she'd hire him. He will have to add weight to his consideration. ]

Glad she was a part of it, too. Even if it was in an unconventional way.

Yeah.

[She doesn't try to deny it - she has no desire to. Emotion-based words are something she struggles with, leaving her never quite sure when and where she should apply them; if he'd said you love your team, she'd have hesitated, no matter how true it is in her own way. But whether or not something - or someone - is important to her is an easy judgement for her to make, and there's no question of how high her team ranks.]

Teams in general are important to me, but... I've never had anything quite like them.

[A pause.]

And neither had she.

[It's no surprise that she'd been willing to die for Finch.]

[ All right. Now that she's talking them up so much, he kind of has to ask. He looks almost confused. ]

...and you were saying you'd hire me on?

Well, Finch is the boss, not me. But he'd like you a lot.

[She glances over at Will, wondering if he'll be skeptical of this judgement.]

Taking in people from shitty circumstances and giving them a new purpose is... kind of what he does, and I guarantee you're not the worst case he's seen. So, yeah, we'd want you. Whether you would want us when we're dealing with a stupid war between robot overlords might be another story.

[ There is skepticism, but not directed at her. Instead, he looks down at his hands, frowning thoughtfully.

That breaks up into some quiet laughter as she starts talking about 'robot overlords,' though. ]

Is that The Machine, and whatever you're fighting? It helped you stop the violent crimes before they happen...maybe someone else didn't care for that?

Someone wanted to take the same idea and go further with it. Control society way beyond what we do. And Finch already has enough personal crises about what we do to begin with, so, obviously he's not on board with that.

Ah...and there's the thought crimes. And/or Illuminati situation.

[ Will nods, feeling like he understands. ]

Well, that's definitely something to consider. Maybe I can meet Finch after I graduate- if we haven't been jumbled around too many times by then. Do you think me coming from a completely different universe would confuse the robot overlords?

[ He smiles, a little spark of interest in his eye. He could really use a good fight. ]

[That is... a very good question. Would Samaritan and the Machine even know? The Machine would surely at least know that something was up if one of its new agents appeared out of thin air.]

Uh-- it'd be a big advantage when it came to hiding you from the enemy. The rest of us had to get fake identities. We'd probably have to prove the existence of the... multiverse or whatever to the rest of the team, though.

[ Will's smile widens. ]

Yeah. That's going to be interesting, wherever I end up. Although most places I probably wouldn't try to explain. Can't imagine that'd fly with what your team's up to, though.

Well. Something to consider while we're here. I'm sure we could figure something out.

You intrigue me. The way you see things is different. You make me want to tell you things I have never told anyone.

[Their beads click as they rest their hands on their desk.]

You remind me of someone. I want to learn more about you.

Edited 2023-04-24 02:08 (UTC)

[ Hmm. Interesting. Well, he'd wanted to learn more about Avalon, himself. ]

Yeah? Who do I remind you of?

[The friend.]

The person [if he was actually a human] who is the reason that I lost a victim.

The one who came into your space?

Yes. You have the same…desperate energy.

Hmmm. Thanks, I guess. I have been through quite a few desperate situations, so that makes sense.

[ He considers why someone like Avalon would want to know more about him. Then he decides- let's not look into that too hard, just now. ]

Well, I've been a pretty open book around here, so if you have any questions- feel free to ask.

[They are regretting their half-made decision already. But they need closure, even if it comes in an indirect form.]

I may take you up on that.

Yeah. You have any questions right now?

Not right now. But thank you.

[This form is unlike anything Avalon has ever used before. They let their antlers scrape the ceiling as they stalk down the Level 6 hallway. As they pass Will’s door, they make note of where his cabin is, but do nothing else for now. Their other ideas can wait.]

[ In his cabin, Will stops reading for a moment and goes entirely still. He listens to sounds that are all too familiar. He feels a pang of concern, but it fades as the sound does.

Letting a sigh escape him, he returns to his reading. ]

[They knock on Will’s door.]

Will.

Edited 2023-05-02 14:27 (UTC)

[ Will looks up at the knock, away from the lure he'd been working on as a way to settle his mind. His heart leaps in his chest, but- well, this happens sometimes. And it hasn't been that long since he saw Ilde's post. His strong association of her with Abigail is not a mystery.

Why she'd be here, though, is. He swallows as he stands. ]

Yeah, I'm here. Hang on-

[ He holds his breath as he opens the door. ]

I thought I’d come visit, [Avalon says quietly.] May I come in?

[ Will blinks, and then blinks again. He's not able to banish the image of Abigail from his mind. He doesn't see Ilde under it. He's- he doesn't have control. He's hallucinating. His face pales as he takes in a deep breath, lets it out. ]

...Abigail. Of course.

[ He doesn't know if he's even moving as he backs up and Winston comes over to sniff at her, his tail wagging. Will could just be lying on the bed right now and he wouldn't know. ]

Are you really here? You can't be. I've been- I've been missing you.

[They were not expecting the dog. Quietly, they bend down and stroke Winston’s head. They let their bracelet be absorbed into their body when they took this form, and his fur feels strange on their bare wrist.]

I’m here.

[They wonder if they should embrace him, but decide against it. Their hand wanders down Winston’s back.]

All right. Just checking.

[ Winston seems okay with this new person, even if it doesn't smell like Abigail- it's been a long time since then. He wags his tail and licks at her hand, just a bit.

Will looks deeply conflicted as he watches them interact- he probably wouldn't imagine that, right? It's very specific. But...okay, they're in his cabin, no one sees it, and he can just let this play out. And if she's really here, then no harm. No foul.

After all, he doesn't want to scare her, like he did when he was sick. (Is he sick again?) ]

Did you hear I finally made it to the Barge? Inmate, of course. At least I don't have to wear a uniform this time.

[ God, he's terrible at starting a proper conversation. He just wants to know one thing, anyway: ]

Are you okay? Where you're living now? I...heard you graduated.

[The forms of the Wendigo and the stag in Will’s memories float in Avalon’s mind. They could gore him right now and he would never see it coming. They want to. The more they interact with him, the more they associate him with the friend.]

I…yes, I’m okay. And I did graduate. I’m living with my girlfriend.

[ Will breathes out in staccato, not quite able to hold in the mixed emotions he's feeling. But even though tears are coming to his eyes, and he suspects that this is his brain trying to give him some closure, he still smiles at her.

Whether it's real or not, his defenses are entirely down. Abigail might be the only one who could've done that. This form is a good choice. ]

That's wonderful. Really, Abigail. I'm so glad.

I'm s- I was never able to keep you safe. I'm sorry. I'm glad...you had help here.

[They smile, albeit somewhat tightly. They step forward as if to embrace Will. As they reach for him, they let the Wendigo’s form spill from their mind and settle over their body.]

[ Abigail's smiles were frequently tight around him, so he doesn't think anything of it. He's moving to open his own arms for a hug, but- she changes. She covers with black, thinning out, and Will already knows where this is going.

Eyes widening with fear, his legs give out and he falls backward onto the floor. This monster had practically been an old friend to him, lately, but he'd always had control of it. Abigail turning into this doesn't make sense. None of this makes sense, but Will knows his mind doesn't always make sense. Unfortunately, he's still trapped in this.

So he just does what he can. He kicks himself backwards until he hits his back against his bedframe. ]

No, I- stop. Whoever- whatever this is- stop.

[ He feels like he's lying to himself, pretending that it's not just him. He shuts his eyes tight. He wills them to show him something real. ]

...stop.

[Will’s fear stops them in their tracks. Behind their eyes, Will’s face morphs into his eyes in the mirror, the friend’s eyes seeing them, his form materializing across from them in the Rift—No one asked your opinion!

Avalon freezes, momentarily unable to separate Will from the man who took their missing bead.

They are reminded of the pendulum from Will’s Flood memory, and they call the image to their mind, trying to pull themself back to the present moment, force themself to see Will rather than the friend.

They reach out impulsively, dragging their claws across Will’s arm, then leave his cabin.]

This needs to end, [they whisper, almost to themself.] This needs to end soon.

[ Will cries out as the claws scratch him, but he doesn't open his eyes- instead he shuts them harder. Hannibal is not here, he can't be. There's no flood and nothing else going on. He just has to let things settle.

So he starts counting his breaths- or he tries to, anyway. By the time he stops hyperventilating, he finally opens his eyes to see...nothing. It's gone. Winston whimpers at him.

Will brings his hand up and curls his fingers in, noting that the deep scratches might've been his own nails. He sighs and smacks the floor with one hand in frustration. ]

Sorry, Winston. I know. It's...it's okay now. C'mere.

[ He's going to be on the floor for awhile. ]

[Avalon stands in front of Will’s door, the Wendigo’s claws in place of their own hands.]

This needs to end.

[But Will could be the key to learning why they lost a bead. Even without the Rift, he feels exactly the same as the friend. He could be the answer they have been wanting.

They rake their claws down his door.]

Be done with this now, [they whisper as they force themself to walk away. Soon. They will finish this soon.]

[ Will frowns at the marks when he sees them, but then closes his eyes and just pushes open the door. He knew that last hallucination wasn't going to be the last- they hit like shockwaves.

Still, when he looks in the morning and the marks are still there, his eyes narrow. He puts his hand over it, feels the change in texture of the wood. He brings out a small screwdriver and chips off shavings and brings them into his desk. He separates them into pieces, he wets them down. They're real.

And when he's done with that, he retrieves one of the two switchblades he has. He opens it, sharpens it a little with a stone, then flicks it shut and puts it in his pocket.

He can be the lure again. That's fine. He will take care of this himself. ]

You talk to all the therapists here yet, or just Bright?

[If her voice sounds muffled, it may or may not be because she has Winston lying across her chest.]

Well, hello to you, too.

Uh...I mean, I've talked briefly with Kiryu and more extensively with Sheehan. Sheehan in particular got a nasty memory from me this last flood. Why do you ask?

Just thinking some actual therapy would probably do you some good, especially since your warden is, uh, me. And the more the merrier, right? So that's your homework: try it out with Kiryu too and see how it goes.

[ Oh. Well...he's not much a fan of this. Kiryu might be okay, but there's a reason he took the term 'talk to' so literally. He doesn't want therapy, actual or otherwise. ]

Reading my file, what makes you think that I would take a 'the more the merrier' approach to therapists?

Good therapists. If he sucks, don't stick with it.

Uh-huh. Hannibal was a 'good' therapist, you know. Highly acclaimed, well-liked. Everyone agreed. Chilton had accolades, even if they weren't the ones he wanted. Alana--

[ He's not being fair. He cuts himself off and sighs. ]

I'll give it a try. Just don't expect a lot. And you get to tell Malcolm.

You know I can practically hear the airquotes when you say "good" there, right? You need experience with therapists who don't have any crappy ulterior motives.

Is Malcolm gonna be upset about you talking to his coworkers or something?

[ Will's scoff is audible when Shaw mentions ulterior motives. They all have them. But he'll otherwise move on to answering her questions. ]

Therapists are not usually herd animals, you know. If more than one's working on a patient, it's usually as a team. Better to keep from stepping on each other's modalities that way. But that's not what we've got at the counseling office.

...and also, Malcolm's a little possessive. [ He says this fondly. ]

... You know, Malcolm's a fine guy and he's not gonna goad you into cannibalism or anything, but if a therapist is possessive of you, that's probably a sign of one of those ulterior motives.

You really think there's a therapist out there that doesn't have ulterior motives, Shaw? At least in Malcolm's case, I understand what they are and where they come from. I know that he wants to help me. And I also know he's not going to give up on me.

If he wants to help you, he'll get why talking to other people too could be a good thing. If he doesn't get that, then his ulterior motive is stroking his own ego.

Possessiveness is a red flag when it comes to this stuff.

[ Will groans with annoyance. ]

You know that was a joke, right? Most therapists are a little extra protective of their patients.

So he's not actually gonna be weird about you talking to Kiryu and Sheehan? Good. Malcolm thought he could treat me and date me at the same time; his heart's in the right place, but he's not exactly professional.

What, he wanted to d-?

[ Will huffs out a breath. It doesn't matter. But seriously, Malcolm? ]

It's because Malcolm's not exactly a professional therapist. He's a profiler. But Kiryu's not, either. Apparently, his therapy involves fighting? Or punching, or something. I'm not against it, honestly. Maybe I'd actually be surprised for once.

But no, Malcolm should be okay. I know he and Sheehan don't exactly get along, but I'm not sure why. Probably a generational issue, if I had to guess.

He's getting over it. Or he's looking at me with goo-goo eyes less often, at least; I dunno. But, yeah, I get that Sheehan's the only licensed guy in there. Still good to have some variety.

[A pause.]

Kiryu can do talking or punching stuff, for the record.

Yeah, you're probably right.

[ Will thinks he's sufficiently backpedaled so he won't be forbidden from chats with Malcolm, at least (Malcolm is not the only possessive one here). But that was sloppy, and Will's going to have to be more careful with how he approaches Shaw on these topics in the future.

Will's tone is more relaxed now, even if he still hates this new development. ]

Oh, Kiryu does? You've talked to him more than me, sounds like.

Every week. Not for real therapy or for too long, but I check in. He's the strong, silent type.

He sure is. Probably makes him good for listening, if that's one's brand of therapy.

So you'll give it a shot?

Yeah. Sure. I'll head in and talk to him, see what he offers.

[It is, perhaps, a little too easy - but Shaw isn't typically one to overthink things, and as long as he's at least willing to give it a shot, why should it matter if he was reluctant at first?]

Cool.

So can I keep Winston for the night?

[ Will breaks into a happy laugh. ]

Yeah, sounds like you're both comfortable already.

If he fusses at all, just let me know and I'll come get him. Pretty sure he doesn't think you're trying to dognap him, though.

Busted.

[She murmurs into Winston's ear, quietly enough that it was possibly not meant to be audible on the other end of the line. They are comfortable, as a matter of fact.]

Sure, if he wants to go I won't make him stay. Been a while since I had a canine guest, that's all.

Yeah, well. I trust him with you. Clearly, he does, too.

-you know, Alana picked them up and took care of them, while I was incarcerated. Winston kept running away, the miles and miles back to my house.

[ Will chuckles. ] He kept breaking in, thank goodness. It was the winter. He was just sure he'd find me there one day.

[ When Will says Winston's a good dog, he means the Goodest of Dogs. But that story is also why he mentioned the possible 'fussing.' ]

[There's a shifting sound as she sits up a little.]

You think I should bring him back just to be safe?

No, no. I think he wants to be there with you. That was more to tell you that you'd know it, if he wanted to leave.

You have a nice night with him. He's a polite sleeper. Not like Chloe, she always took up half the bed. I never understood how such a tiny little thing could stretch herself out so far.

... Do you sleep with all of them on the bed?

It's whatever the dogs want to do for the night. Although I do run hot sometimes, and then I'll make them stay on the floor. But there was usually at least a couple of them that'd make it up on the bed to sleep.

Edited 2023-05-08 01:35 (UTC)

How often do you have a fight over real estate?

Not as often as you might think. 'cause if it happens, no one's allowed up.

I'm thinking a two-dog limit in my cabin.

[Please note that she will almost certainly break this at some point.]

I think anyone reasonable would. Well, unless you have one of those warden cabins that's a full house or something.

Still just my studio. I asked the Admiral to make it smaller, too.

Yeah, I'd feel weird if my cabin was too much bigger than it is now, if I'm honest. Although I do miss the woods.

You know a couple people have the outside as part of their cabin? It's weird.

Oh. Yeah? Didn't expect that. Maybe I should've. Is it, like, Enclosure-sized or just the yard or something?

[ Very weird. Probably useful? But weird. ]

Just a yard, but I don't know if that's because something like the Enclosure is impossible or not; you'd have to ask Kiryu. Could be that inmates can't have it either way, though.

Oh, no. I'm sure we can't. That seems like it'd be warden-only.

But what you're saying is you want Jet too some night, huh?

[ That is how he interprets a two-dog limit. ]

I'm not gonna take them both from you. You need one, right?

Hey, I managed to survive here without Winston for a whole month, somehow. I think I can handle not having them around some nights.

How about if you want a break, you let me know.

[ He smiles on his end of the line. ]

Sounds like a plan.

[Shortly after this:]

Hey, Will. Sameen got herself into some trouble and asked me to make sure you were all right until she's back on her feet. So if you need anything, you can let me know.

[He's not intentionally trying to be vague, just tactful?]

Honestly, I had been meaning to ask if you wanted to do a little spelunking, anyway - I hope you can believe me. I like spending time with you.

[ It doesn't take a lot of thinking to figure out what had happened. He's frowning a bit- right up until that last bit. That makes him snort in amusement. ]

I believe you, Steve. That's...really, that's not a problem.

All right, let's head out for a bit, if there's nothing else to be done for Shaw. Probably better to have something to distract us than just sitting around waiting for her to come back to life, anyway. Let's not go too deep, though, if you're all right with that.

[ He doesn't want to meet the same fate as Sheehan and Shaw. ]

Meet you on the deck?

A man after my own heart. Distraction sounds good. And yeah - B and I found some pretty amazing crystals, not too far in, if you wanna see.

The deck is perfect. I'll meet you there.

[He'll even show up with a backpack full of supplies - like snacks and a first-aid kit, just in case.]

[ Will has his own pack, but he hadn't thought of snacks. He'll be very pleased about that one. He nods at Steve when he sees him. ]

Hey.

Been a rough couple of days for people I like. At least Shaw will probably be fine when she's back up.

[Steve gets hungry a lot. And while he can certainly go without food for a long time, it's not pleasant. So, he figures whether they're out for a little while or something happens (though hopefully it won't), it's best to have some food with them.

He offers Will a rueful smile and heads toward the gangplank.] She will be. She's tough. Whatever got her must've caught them by surprise.

We'll be careful.

[He's not normally a careful guy, but he doesn't want to get someone else hurt, of course.]

Meet me at the greenhouse.

[Yes, she's still death-tolling; no, she will not be taking constructive criticism at this time.]

All right. Be there in five.

[ He's at a good stopping point, and he's not going to ask. He'll appear near the greenhouse in the time it takes him to get up there on deck. ]

Hey.

[Shaw is still very visibly under the weather (and she notably arrives a few minutes after Will), but she's up and on her feet, which is, as far as she's concerned, the most important thing.]

You wanna brainstorm about what we're going to do about Avalon, or you wanna go surveil Lestat?

[ Will doesn't comment on her illness- he knew she'd be up and moving around before she was fully recovered. He wondered how the hell her team back home kept her from rejoining work for a couple weeks. ]

Well, we could do both. I don't- honestly, I don't know what there is to do about Avalon, at this point. Other than keep an eye out.

[Root stapled her to the safehouse bed, probably.]

Honestly? Keeping an eye out's my favorite method. But like I said, I'm open to other options. Some other options.

[She jerks her chin towards the art gazebo, where Lestat hangs out.]

Shall we?

[ The fact that Shaw's still bringing this up makes Will smile slightly. He didn't figure it was said to placate him, necessarily. But that she's still committed to helping him seek justice is good to hear.

He tilts his head and holds his hand out in a 'go ahead' way when she looks in the direction of the art gazebo. Apparently, they shall. ]

I- as long as I know they're staying in their corner, I can stay in mine. I accomplished what I wanted to.

An inmate lost all his memories in one fell swoop; that sound like something Avalon could do to you?

Not that I know of. I'm pretty sure they were only capable of reading my mind, not manipulating it. But I could be wrong on that front. Trying to understand them is like speaking to a mobius strip.

Which inma- oh, Neal? Damn.

You know him?

That's Malcolm's inmate. Haven't talked to him much, but I'd been planning on seeing him for some art lessons. Got caught up in the last flood and the port and...everything with Avalon, in between.

He's a good guy. Whoever did this, we're gonna fix it.

[There's a pause, and then--]

Huh.

We will. Malcolm will probably be ahead of us, but we can help.

What is it?

[There's a few minutes' pause before she answers.]

Apparently, this is just a... Barge thing that happens sometimes.

It is?

....I'm coming over. I'll bring Jet and Winston.

Is something wrong?

[Besides her, obviously, but that's a given!]

Yeah. Do you have anything cold to drink?

Beer, Coke. Milk.

Edited 2023-05-25 15:02 (UTC)

Pour us both a glass of coke? With ice, if you've got it.

[She doesn't respond. But she gives herself to the count of three, then pulls herself off of her mattress and does as requested, leaving the glasses of iced Coke on the counter before going to unlock the door. When he arrives, he'll find her collapsed on the bed again, face-down, fully dressed with her boots still on.]

[ Will speeds up a little at the lack of verbal response, only leashing Jet this time and heading quickly to her cabin. The dogs catch onto the energy and get a little excited, and since Will is keeping the audio connected, Shaw will hear some woofs on his way over.

He opens the door and lets the dogs in, first. Jet races to Shaw and jumps on the bed to sniff at her face on the pillow. Winston doesn't jump up, but puts his paws up so he can lick her hand. Will makes his way over to the counter for the Cokes. ]

Yep, you're doing about as well as I thought.

[Shaw wiggles her fingers, lightly rubbing Winston's nose; she also turns her head to the side to try to avoid any face-licks from Jet, though he gets a nice ear-scratch for his troubles. There is, again, a noticeable pause before she responds to Will.]

I'm fine, it's just... this place. Probably better for you not to see me like this, actually.

[She's not quite telling him to leave, but she's concerned all the same. She knows that if danger hit she'd be able to force herself out of this and concentrate on the matter at hand, and that too much downtime and space to think is her biggest enemy here - but she figures that it would be all too easy for someone else to look at her right now and see her as too broken to warden effectively. She needs Will's respect, she thinks, not his pity.]

I've been worse. You're responding, that's more than I expected.

[ He's not leaving, not unless she orders him to. For Will, his respect isn't earned through seeming put-together, not even through not falling apart. His respect is earned with cleverness and kindness and determination, and Shaw's had it for a while now.

He brings both glasses over to her bed and sits on the floor, cross-legged next to Winston. ]

Let me know when you can sit up. The dogs'll get out of your way.

Graham--

[There's a warning edge to her tone, though still based on concern for him, not anger towards him. But then she isn't sure how to follow that up, so she just sighs heavily and hauls herself into a half-seated position, her eyes glassy and focused on the floor rather than on him.]

You were concerned about Neal. Do you want to see...?

[She gestures vaguely at her communicator, lying on the mattress near her elbow and open to the post in question.]

Will raises his eyebrows at her tone, but it's questioning rather than challenging. She doesn't say anything beyond that, though, and he nods when she offers to let him see. He takes the tablet, but before he starts reading, he holds out one of the glasses. ]

Thanks. Hold this? Just...to feel the cold and condensation. Maybe drink some if you can.

[ He might be pushing too hard, but it helps him when he's drifting. Regardless how she reacts (he'll accept whatever), he'll start reading, and snickers at the term 'free-range assholes'. ]

This place is a mess.

[Is her sum-up of the memory situation. She takes the glass, staring into it listlessly. ]

He might be okay, though. You know how Malcolm's taking it?

[ Yeah, reading further into the post gives Will the needed context on just how bad the situation is. Sometimes people just lose all memory of this place, huh? Awesome. Great. He lets out a small sigh. ]

No. I haven't tried to contact him yet. I'm sure he's still in the middle of trying to handle it. Neal sounded...almost aggressive, in his post. Some time had passed, I think.

[ Will takes a sip of his own drink and rubs his chin, reading through the rest. ]

-wait, people are still missing memories from the flood?

Guess so.

[She feels the anxiety as a sharp ache in her stomach, and she takes a little sip of her own Coke, then sets the cup on the floor. Settling back down on her mattress, she curls onto her side, idly stroking whichever dog is nearest to hand.]

You think you're missing anything still?

I-

[ He swallows his own anxiety down, realizing suddenly that he's really not helping right now. He shakes his head. ]

If I do, I don't think it's anything important. There's no noticeable gaps, no changes in behavior. So- probably just whatever Hannibal smudged out of my brain.

[ The dogs, at least, are doing their part. Winston has gotten up on the bed to settle next to Shaw, being the Dog to Pet for the moment. Jet looks happy enough to lean against her leg. ]

You okay.

[She asks it dully, but she rolls over a little so that she can scan her eyes over his face.]

I'm okay.

[ He looks her in the eye, letting her scan him. He doesn't want to make it harder on her to do her job, especially while she's rather disconnected. He really is all right, just mildly concerned. ]

Just...surprised. Afte all the times I'd heard that floods set everything right when they were done...

[ He rolls his eyes. ]

Makes me glad I went through so much effort to sort it out, though.

Everybody does say floods are supposed to do that. Kinda makes me wonder if someone's messing with this guy and using the flood as a smokescreen. To be honest--

[She pauses, flexing her fingers.]

I'd prefer that to the alternative.

The first alternative is that our fellow shipmates don't know what they're talking about. And floods are mechanically different than they expected.

[ He sighs a little. ]

But yeah, I'd prefer it to the other one, too.

Nobody here knows what they're talking about.

[She mutters it under her breath, turning her face to press it into the pillow again, her Coke still sitting forgotten next to the mattress.]

Look, I want you to know, I can still-- I'm not going to let this stop me from doing my job. Any of this. Okay?

Of course not.

[ It's not even a question in his mind. He smiles a bit. Even with being in such bad shape, she's worried about him. And her job, yes, but her job is also him. ]

You'd have to be dead. Or stay dead, I suppose. Listen- this whole thing is nuts, I know that we're fighting confusing odds. But I also know how stubborn you are.

But...take a break. You seem like you need it. Me and Winston and Jet'll be here when you get back. I'll let you know if anything else tilts reality while you're gone.

[ The dogs are already arranging themselves around her, getting settled in for some sleep. Will sips at his own Coke. ]

Simulations make me tired. Even if it's just the idea of them.

[And the jury's still out on if that's what's going on here. Closing her eyes, she drapes her arm around the nearest dog, letting her fingers sink into fur.]

Thanks.

No problem.

[ Will gets himself comfortable, leaning against the wall on the floor. And he'll let himself drift, too- not enough to really be out of it, but enough to go fishing a bit. He doesn't know if his presence will help when she's up again, but he doesn't think it'd hurt. Besides, he can do this for hours.

So he'll be in much the same position when she wakes up, most likely. ]

[Shaw doesn't sleep deeply: it's not that kind of tiredness. Her body doesn't need rest, but her mind needs to escape for a while; needs to leave the Barge and go somewhere else, if only in her imagination. Still, there's a part of her that's always aware of where she really is, and what's going on around her - and that part of her knows that for the hours that she drifts, Will stays put. She doesn't even hear his communicator being pulled out.]

What do you do?

[She croaks out, speaking for the first time in three hours.]

[ He usually closes his eyes- he doesn't this time. He figures Shaw probably won't be as creeped out as most. And she still has to deal with him, even if she is. But it helps snap him out of it faster. He still only catches about half of the sentence, with it being so sudden. ]

I went fishing. I might've mentioned, but I have a pretty good imagination. I can keep myself occupied.

[ The dogs have stayed put, too, but they're currently snoozing. ]

Me, too.

[She whispers, flexing her fingers lightly in Jet's fur.]

Was it nice? You catch anything?

A largemouth bass and a couple of rainbow trout. And I saw a few deer.

[ It was a nice scenario he set up for himself, surprisingly unspoiled by anything darker today. It happens occasionally. ]

Are you always alone?

[If she had to guess, she'd guess that he would be - that or, maybe, he'd imagine himself with people, but with his own mind quiet and unaffected by their bleedover.]

Sometimes I bring the dogs with me. But they usually scare away the fish, so that's more if I feel like walking through the woods.

[ So yes, alone enough. ]

I told you about the playground from when I was a kid, right? The one with the merry-go-round where I tried to train myself out of motion sickness? I go there a lot. When I was in captivity, it was a good reminder to be, uh...

[She swallows, shrugging a shoulder.]

A reminder that I could stick with it, I guess. Not give up.

Yeah.

[ A vague smile appears on his face. ]

Sounds like a good place to center yourself...remind you what you're about.

It was the first time the tactic actually worked.

[She admits quietly, twisting her fingers into her pillowcase.]

Where'd you pick it up? Is it self-taught?

[Malcolm sounds almost breathless as he comes on the line, a broad, excited smile on his face.]

Will, do you want to go sailing? Like. Not at the marina with Muffy and Binxter or anything, but on a real Victorian sailing vessel on the high seas! My friend Francis was a sea captain in his world and he said he'd take me for a trip on his ship in the Enclosure and he said I could bring someone if I want.

[ Since it's video, Malcolm will see Will stifle a chuckle when the words "Muffy and Binxter" comes up. But Malcolm looks so excited, that Will's smiling rather than smirking by the end of the offer. ]

I haven't been on a real boat in ages, much less a Victorian sailing vessel. Count me in.

I'm so excited! [Exclaimed a little too loud, considering the microphone is plenty close enough to hear him perfectly well.] Francis said to bring a warm coat. Maybe we should bring a blanket too. I'll bring a blanket; I have a blanket. Francis said to meet him outside the Enclosure after the lunch shift.

Sounds like a plan. I'll make sure to wear something warm- it's been a while since we've had to be concerned about weather, hasn't it?

[ He's starting to pick up on Malcolm's excitement, practically grinning himself. ]

I just realized people always make it pleasant in the Enclosure. I liked your beach. Snowy and uninviting.

[ Will smiles, looking down as if shy. ]

That was honestly far more comfortable for me. I'm not used to tropical places...or places I've been invited either, I suppose. Touristy environments.

In the Enclosure, that sort of place feels doubly fake. Probably the lack of people.

[Malcolm grins again, this time because he made Will smile.]

We should walk in New York sleet some time. Or visit the Atlantic ocean in the winter.

Might be nice. Hey, I might even like New York if all the people are taken out of it.

[ He smirks at the camera- he knows that's Malcolm's home. ]

[Malcolm laughs, then gives him a schemey look.]

I'm going to take you to a crime scene there. It's my turn next!

Well, now we're talking.

[ Will's grin breaks into a chuckle. ]

That definitely jumps it up a few notches.

Maybe people won't show up all over it this time. Not that I don't enjoy talking crimes, but... maybe I don't want to share it with them every time.

It was more popular than I expected. Which...maybe we should invite some other people to do that again. [ He suddenly laughs, at the both of them. ] But I think we both agree, some crime scenes should be just for the two of us.

...and Shaw, I suppose. Feels like we've got a Victorian-era chaperone, a bit.

Well, it’s her responsibility to make sure I don’t break you. [He’s joking, but then he looks almost coy.] i actually really wanted to kiss you in the crime lab, but it didn’t seem appropriate. Not because it was a crime lab; that was the best gift. It was just… all the audience.

I know.

[ His smile indicates he felt completely the same way. ]

And I think she's trying to make sure I don't break you, too. I can't blame her for being cautious, when we're dancing around the topic of things I might be sensitive to.

Break me?

[Hi, Will! Here comes your warden, using her item to track you down while you're out on deck.]

Hey. Let's do a debrief on your crime scene thing. How'd it go? Resounding success?

[She'd been there for the whole thing, of course, but like hell she has any idea what a resounding success for a fake crime scene investigation looks like.]

[ Will is a little quicker to smile lately, even around Shaw. He gives her a brief one, then looks thoughtful. ]

Resounding success, yes. At least as far as I'm concerned. Malcolm had a good time, other people didn't seem to mind, and you seem like you're doing all right. I think.

[ She is always a little harder to read than most, and he knows he's biased in favor of the whole thing. ]

You have any thoughts on it?

I'm fine.

[And she does at least look it, though her working definition of "fine" leans more towards functionality rather than good mental health.]

I wanna hear you talk about what it was like doing that with Malcolm versus what it was like doing it with Hannibal.

[ Yeah, that tells him actually nothing. Sorry, Shaw. But she does seem functional, at least. Will is about to note this when Shaw hits him with the sudden comparison. He gasps out a breath. ]

Uh, I've been trying not to think about Hannibal, for a bit.

Oh, yeah? Why?

[If it's a good answer, she'll even acquiesce!]

Because being fixated on someone else isn't exactly conducive to a new relationship. And I didn't want Malcolm to think I was...comparing them.

[ Oh look, there's the floor! Time to stare at it for a minute. ]

[Aha. Not a good answer, as far as Shaw is concerned; if he happens to glance up, he'll catch her raising an eyebrow.]

How about an answer that has to do with you instead of one that has to do with Malcolm?

[ Yeah, that's about what he figured. ]

I mean, I could try to come up with something. But you asked about my reason, and that was it.

We can talk, about the Enclosure. I just wasn't ready for...that.

I gathered as much.

[A beat.]

I do wanna make it clear before it gets built up into a whole "us against the world"... thing. I don't have any issues with you dating Malcolm. Honestly? I'm relieved. From what I've seen and heard, he's probably a way better boyfriend than he was a therapist for you.

[She drops herself onto a bench, stretching out her legs and folding her arms over her chest.]

But I still want to hear how that compared to what you did with Hannibal.

[ He's a little conflicted, because Will thought he was a better therapist than any of the other ones he'd come across- a low bar, but an important one to cross. Still, her well-wishes and lack of problems with them dating is far more important to him. Ultimately, his mouth pulls back into a line that's not a frown or a smile. ]

Thanks.

Uh...it's hard to compare. I picked that case because Hannibal wasn't on it, in it, anywhere near it. I didn't want to invite any problems- and that's with myself or my emotions, not with what Malcolm would think.

With the case already being solved, nobody's life actually at stake, it was a little different. I was more of a 'guide' than a 'traveler'. It wasn't an equal dynamic. When I was solving cases with Hannibal, we had what I thought was an equal dynamic.

Okay.

[Seems straight-forward enough.]

Did it feel weird, being in the, uh... the "Hannibal position", here?

...maybe if you say it like that.

[ He chuckles, but it's a little nervous. ]

Malcolm was so enthusiastic. It felt more like we'd gone to a particularly good amusement park, rather than something I've spent the past few years trying to avoid. So yeah, it felt...not like I expected, being the guide. I'm not sure there's any part of the scenario we set up that wasn't weird.

Mm. So, you get why that's the kind of thing I wanna talk about and make sure we keep a handle on, right.

[ Will nods, but it's more tired and less controlled than his usual movement. He rubs at his eyes, then moves onto the rest of his face. ]

I talked to Malcolm about that, you know. Before we got together. That I was worried I was going to manipulate him or...well, 'do what Hannibal does'.

So, I've put that out there, at least.

I don't think you're like Hannibal.

[That she wants to make clear, before anything else.]

You don't?

[ That should be relieving. He's not sure how to feel about it. ]

[It's interesting that it's not visibly relieving, which of course means that she's just going to double down on the sentiment.]

Nope. Don't get me wrong, you got plenty of your own bullshit going on, but you're not like him.

[ Will nods. ]

Yeah. Yes, I certainly do.

So- why bring it up? Did I misread your concern?

Because I am worried about you manipulating him, even though I don't think you'd intend to harm him. Saying that without the qualifier that I think you're better than Hannibal would be pretty shitty.

Ah. Okay, I see what you mean, now.

[ He shuts his eyes, briefly. Then he leans back against the railing, facing Shaw on her bench. ]

I don't want to hurt him. I'm...glad you recognize that.

Yeah. But do you get why it's important to keep an eye out for old patterns?

In case I start 'nudging' him in...unfortunate directions? The ways I want him to be, or think he should be? He'd absolutely try to change himself if I approached the idea in a particular way.

[ Or Malcolm might surprise him, but Will is rather focused on his worries at the moment. ]

Will has no doubt sensed the disquiet in Malcolm since Neal’s return and the way he iced them out in art class. He thought he could handle it, though. He thought he had the tools to get through to his inmate if he kept at it, so he didn’t talk about their work. But he doesn’t have the tools.

When Malcolm knocks at Will’s door, it’s late. Later than usual. He’d been in the library finding a good resource and left it for Neal and walked around thinking about what happened, how it all went so badly wrong, how it crashed and burned all over him.

Before Will even gets to the door, he shouts “Will? It’s Malcolm! Can I come in?”

Will can probably sense more than disquiet now, without even opening the door.

Instead of sleeping, Will had been messing with another lure. He could feel the tension that Malcolm was dealing with. And he had his own concerns as well, now that things have been so good for far too long. It doesn't bode well for his own sleep.

He doesn't jump when the door knocks and the dogs both spring up, but it's a close thing. He's gotten good at staying his reactions if there's something sharp in his hands. He sets the lure down and gets up...and Malcolm shouts. Wills' response is to rush a little faster to the door.

As soon as he opens it, he's looking over Malcolm with worried eyes. Winston and Jet 'mob' him, Jet trying to lick Malcolm's fingers. "What do you need?" Will asks, plainly.

“I don’t know,” Malcolm says, drawing a shaky breath. “I think I ruined everything,” he whispers.

Will steps forward to put an arm around Malcolm's shoulders and lean his head against Malcolm's. "Come in, okay? What happened?" His voice is quiet and already wracked with the weight of Malcolm's pain. He'll gently tug Malcolm into his cabin and- if allowed- onto the couch.

Like he’s in a daze, he’ll go where he’s led. He still feels fur nudge at his fingertips while they walk there. He gives it a little scritch.

“I confronted Neal after art class. He’d been avoiding our counseling sessions and then he ignored us in art class and I just didn’t know what to do with his… pissy, snotty attitude. He wouldn’t talk to me, just kept pushing. I thought maybe I could get his attention if I pushed back. He does this thing… he… puts on a pleasant expression like a mask but… you know when you can, like, see the twisted angry face underneath it? Like. You… you can see the ugly, angry true emotion under the pretend nice face? And when we were arguing it just… slipped out. I told him he didn’t used to be ugly inside. And I didn’t mean… Well, it’s not like I could even begin to explain what that was about when he didn’t want to hear it to start with and most people don’t experience things that way. He really latched onto it, though. And it went way, way downhill from there and he hates me. Like, he really does actually hate me. He said it twice.”

That's a lot, and Will keeps his hand on Malcolm's back through the whole explanation. Will's also working with so much bias and such a small sketch of Neal (admittedly, he'd tried to keep it that way), he's not sure he can actually help with this.

"That's...never easy to hear. I'm sorry," Will says, kissing Malcolm's temple gently. He tugs on the blanket already on the back of the couch and expertly puts it around Malcolm's shoulders before hugging him close again. "And sometimes it turns out to be true and sometimes it's not. Things might not be fully broken with him, yet."

Malcolm leans into him, breathing in that affection like air.

"He made some points that other people have made about me. Things I've struggled with myself. I think... I think I'm going to quit the counseling office. I'm not cut out for it. It's not what I do. Caring isn't enough to turn what I do into that. I'm not helping."

Will frowns, due to a couple of things about that. "Can you take a break? A few weeks off? I know it's not exactly conventional, but you need some mental health time, too. I don't-" He fidget slightly, not sure how to put this. "I don't know what Neal said, but- what you do is cut through to what people don't want to hear. And that's helpful, for those of us that normal therapy doesn't reach. At that point, it's what we need to hear. So, I can't think that you're not helping anyone."

Malcolm gives him a weak smile. He was the one who suggested Malcolm really helped him. But he’s a profiler too.

“Your warden fired me from you,” he points out with a self effacing laugh. “…Not that I’m complaining, because being with you is way better but. It did cut at the time.”

"She didn't," Will refutes. "She wanted me to see the other therapists too. But I- I know that's not the issue. She didn't trust you to be able to handle it by yourself. I don't think she's right about that."

But Will knows that his opinion only counts so far when it's about him. "I think," he continues. "-that there are those people who only you can get through to. And in order to find them, you might have confrontations with others...or even those you do help. Your way is blunt and volatile. But it's the truth, and so many people here need that truth."

He frowns a bit, this time at himself. "I don't want you to be unhappy. Or beat your head against what seems like a brick wall. But I don't want you to lose something that's...fulfilling to you, either."

Malcolm thinks about that.

“Last time I had… concerns about… whether I was doing any good, Kiryu suggested that the doubts themselves would undermine the faith people might have in my abilities. He said I should get a tattoo that reminds me of why I do it. He showed me his. It’s a magnificent full back tattoo, though he didn’t think I needed anything that… big. He even offered to take me to the master in Japan that did his. But… it’s not even about not really helping this time. I did harm to Neal. And he’s not the first. Roman. Shaw. Florian. Sweeney. There’s a list of people I just made things worse with. I don’t want to be the guy that hurts people.”

"Hey, hey. Hold on. You're catastrophizing," Will says plainly, rubbing Malcolm's back. "Kiryu has your number, you know. It's your trust in yourself that you need to build here. Shaw hasn't thought you've done harm to her. Hark- Sweeney, you're making progress with." Harkin grunts less loudly when Will brings Malcolm up now. Will still thinks that should count. "And Florian just got here. Calm down, breathe, and tell me one person that you think got at least one piece of good advice from you. I know there's at least one."

He's right, he's right, Will's right. Malcolm takes a breath, however shaky, in through his nose and out through his mouth, then another, slower, a little more steady.

"Okay. Um." He can do this. One person that got help from his advice. "...Kikimora?" He suggests. "...Maybe Johann, but I don't know if that's going to stick now. I'm not sure it's a good thing for him that Florian is here." He pauses. "Um. I was helping Neal for a little while. But in retrospect, I'm not sure it was working because he liked my methods. I think it was working because he liked me. ...Francis. I helped Francis quit drinking again. He asked me to."

Will is so glad that Malcolm will take advice from him- he knows it's because Malcolm's has been through so much therapy, but as the saying goes- 'doctors make the worst patients.' And Malcolm's been in that role for a while now.

He didn't expect to hear more than one name, either, so the list is encouraging. "He asked you to, huh? And you got through to Kikimora, really? I gave up on her after one conversation." And maybe that wasn't entirely fair, but that's why Will would never be interested in anything near this type of job.

Malcolm smiles down at Will's knee and somehow manages to snuggle a little closer.

"It only took about six tries, but I got her to even come in the office and talk over a cup of coffee." He tilts his head to look at Will. "She's not graduating any time soon."

Will smiles a little too. "No, didn't figure she would be. That's a good list, though."

He could keep breaking down the others listed, be very reasonable and methodical about it, but Will takes this less-panicked time to kiss Malcolm gently on the side of the head and continue rubbing his back. Will can't tell him it'll all be okay- that's a platitude that hasn't worked with him for years.

But what he can do is be here, a warm presence that Malcolm can take some solace in. In order to accommodate that, Will shifts around a bit and then manages to pull the edge of the warm blanket over his shoulders as well. His arm carefully finds its way around Malcolm's back, just under the blanket now. They can sit under here for a while. "I'll get you some tea in a little bit," he promises.

It’s so warm and he feels… loved and this is the only sanctuary on the whole ship.

Malcolm curls up against his side, his head on Will’s shoulder. He traces a pattern on Will’s leg.

“Can I just… stay here tonight? I’m not going to sleep.” He quickly adds “You can sleep! I just. Already know I won’t. So maybe I can just stay here. If that’s okay.”

"Of course. And odds are 50/50 that I won't sleep, either, so it'd be nice to have the company." His arm squeezes Malcolm closer, just a bit. Maybe it's a little bit possessive...but Will doesn't want Malcolm going anywhere.

As if to help out, Winston lays his head on Malcolm's feet. Will notices and chuckles. "Looks like the dogs agree." Jet is in the process of trying to 'sneak' onto the open spot on the couch, next to Malcolm- as if Will has ever restricted couch access to any dog before.

I'm coming to you, but I'm not close; are you safe?

[ It takes a couple moments for Will's end to click on. Once it does, there's the sound of distant gunshots and screeching. He had the misfortune of being on the Deck when the bats and vines started to appear.

Will's voice, when he speaks, is low and close. ]

Not particularly. But I'm not hurt. Where are you?

Level 8; I'm getting there as fast as I can, but, uh-- it might take a while.

Okay. I'm trying to get off the Deck. Was going to see if I could meet up at Malcolm's cabin on 3. How's Level 8 looking?

As bad as the deck sounds. Malcolm doing okay?

He's all right. He was in the library- it's not safe, either. Gotta give him a key to my cabin when this is over.

Damn- [ There's some muffled shuffling noises as the microphone is brushed against. ] You know what this is yet? Kinda early for a flood.

I don't know what else it would be. Smuggled creatures from the port that just got out?

I didn't see anything like this.

Guess it doesn't matter. Just got to survive it, for now.

I should make you give me a key to your cabin after this too, you know.

Sure. Kind of surprised you don't have access already.

Kinda figured the Admiral would say no if I asked it.

Oh, well--

[ One of the screeches gets louder and it's followed by a sudden crack of a gun being fired and the pounding of footsteps. ]

I guess a key works just as well. I've got a couple extra.

Graham? What's happening?

Bat found me. I'm fine. I'm getting away from the dead monsters as soon as I can- I think the others notice.

If you get killed before I get to you, I'm kicking your ass.

[This is Worry.]

Thanks.

[ Yeah, he knows what that means. ]

I'm being as safe as I can be, I promise.

Good. See you soon.

Um, hey. That fencing guy. Gaius. He told me Shaw asked him to contact me about getting healed by him any time I get hurt and... Well, he wouldn't tell me who else Shaw put on that list, but there's no way she'd ask for it for me and not you unless it was... bad. Has he approached you about it?

Actually, she had me go talk to him. After consideration and probably too many questions, I've accepted the offer.

I didn't know she'd asked about you, too. You sound like you're thinking about it.

It seems ungrateful to just turn it down. I was surprised she asked for me. I'm not... someone she generally worries about. I was curious what it entails, though, and he went on about needing permission. I kind of meant physically, but I'm not sure he knows. Anyway, I thought I should ask someone who has probably had a chance to think about it. You're doing it? [That's a pretty compelling endorsement.]

As far as that's concerned, it's already done. I've given him my permission. I can take it away at any time.

And I can see why that'd be important to him. He's- he had vastly more power back home. So the physical process of providing this as a service is hardly even a drop in the bucket of effort for him. From what he told me, he can tell the different 'states' of people on the ship- if he's got consent, I believe. And he can know what's broken and how and fix it back the way it's supposed to be. Some control over the aspects of life and death. So it's definitely not the sort of energy we're used to, but he has mastery of it.

Also- Shaw does worry about you. She wouldn't put it that way, but you're on her list of people to watch out for...probably moreso now.

Because it would hurt you if I got killed?

Obviously.

I think we're both extremely hard to kill anyway, honestly. But I also think we're both prone to attracting trouble. So maybe it's not a terrible idea to have the extra protection. Help balance things in our favor.

[Caring about him second hand is the most she's cared about him. He feels stupid about how much it pleases him.]

I'll call Gaius back and take it.

[Honestly, if Gaius had told him 'Will Graham is signed up', he probably would have signed right up then.]

Okay.

[ His voice is warm. It sounds like Malcolm doesn't have entirely the same concerns he did, but- that's okay. Will would like Malcolm to be capable of getting in and out of more trouble, if he's honest. ]

[After this.]

Hey, Will. Can you let me know where you're at and what the hell is goin' on?

Raylan? Sure. Malcolm asked Lestat about Neal, got insulted and his throat punctured for the trouble.

I'm at the infirmary right now, and Shaw is watching me like a hawk, in case you are also worried I'm going to do something about it.

You got no idea how much a relief it is to get the facts without havin' to meander towards it.

Are you going to do something about it? Because a smart man wouldn't be jumping the gun when everyone's eyes on you, and I know you're not a stupid one.

Yeah, no. Nothing to be done now. Reid's going to have us wait until the flood's over and then talk it over.

[ He sighs, deeply. It's definitely not the outcome he'd prefer, but he was far too open about his feelings on the network. ]

Glad I can get you the facts, at least, although it makes me wonder who thinks you'd rather meander than get to it.

Malcolm, for one, but he tends to be a verbal dancer anyway. [Raylan accepted it as a simple fact at this point and didn't hold it against Malcolm.]

Asked me to check up on you and I'm aware of how.. Impassioned shit like this can make a person.

Oh, Malcolm. Of course. [ He sounds fond. ]

Yes, I'm currently doing my best to not be an idiot about this. It's pretty damn difficult with these bugs around, you know?

But so far, so good. The vampire who could probably break me in half is being protected by his warden and I just get to sit here and watch Malcolm struggle to sit up.

[ Yep, really good.... ]

Unfortunately, we let everyone do free for all murders, my gun would be gettin' a lot more work and we're lookin' to bring that kinda shit down here.

Focus on helpin' Malcolm get back to 100%. The Wardens are on it, somethin'll get worked out. I hope, anyway. Been a while since this much smoke went up about one person.

I am focusing on Malcolm, because apparently that keeps me from walking out and finding some weapons. I'm less confident that something will get worked out...haven't exactly had great experiences with groups of people in positions of power. Hopefully, you'll understand.

But distracting myself? That I can do. And Malcolm needs support.

I do.

But good, let's keep it that way. Let me know if you need anythin' in the meantime.

Will do. Let me know if you need any more summaries of what's going on.

Or want updates on Malcolm. It's looking like he'll heal this up pretty quickly, thankfully. The cut was deep but not wide.

Both, if you're willin'. Whatever insight I can get into the situation here. [Otherwise he would learn about it on the other side, but he'd rather hear it straight from one of the sources, in the moment.]

You happen to know what Malcolm asked Lestat? About Neal?

I don't, actually. I plan on asking when Malcolm's in a better state. I'm assuming it was something innocuous but taken the wrong way- as everyone seems to do with the way Malcolm says things. Sometimes I understand why, and sometimes it's a mystery to me.

Anyway, Neal's been having a rough time lately, so I wouldn't be surprised if Malcolm asked Lestat how he's doing.

I've suffered it myself, The Way he says Things. [Especially on the Clipper but plenty on the Barge. That didn't stop him being protective and loving Malcolm anyway. His position had evolved.]

That mean that Neal's been hangin' out with Lestat? [The surprise was clear in the question.]

I think they're friends? I don't know. I try not to get too involved with Neal, considering how touchy things've been between us.

I hope you haven't suffered too much, with the way Malcolm says things. Did being his brother for the last Breach make it more or less tough?

Less tough. He was my warden when the Barge got taken over and separated out, even though he doesn't remember it. I didn't take to being an inmate well. Started a Riot and held him hostage. Being his brother definitely helped things along.

Touchy because you're with Malcolm now? Touchy because he's not?

Right, you mentioned that at that Meet and Greet thing. That ship you were taken to, where I almost certainly would've joined you in your riot. Or I would've been drugged within an inch of my life. I'm...glad he doesn't remember that, if I'm honest.

Ah, yeah. I didn't know Neal was interested. Malcolm didn't know, but he's...unkind with himself, most of the time. I had to lay it out for him pretty plainly.

I figured that would be the case. I'm glad anyone who could miss it did.

He is. I knew when Neal kissed him that that was the case, but- [he was a little more Worldly than Malcolm in that way.] I'll check in with Neal, see how he's doing. Malcolm.. mentioned Neal and Norton feelin' some kind of way. I told him it didn't matter; they'll sort themselves out.

[And he's repeating it for Will's benefit - Raylan supported attempts at happiness, for all the struggle that came with them here.]

They will. They already have, mostly. Neal's issue has more to do with him gaining time back home, I suspect. We talked things out, a little.

And- I don't know if either of them would've wanted to take things at the speed Malcolm and I are comfortable with. I fully intend to stick with him here and follow him home...help him through whatever he needs there, too.

I hope that's the case...

.. I don't mean to give you the shovel talk here Will, but I do happen to have a very specific set of skills and it's not a jump to wonder if Malcolm's world is the same as my own. Or yours but that's beside the point. With the Admiral around, ya know... Where there's a will, there's a way.

He told me a bit about y'alls plans when he came to check up on me. I think it's a good one, generally.

You don't have to worry...although I'm glad Malcolm's got people who will. I just want him to be happy. [ Will chuckles, remembering his last conversation like this. ] Neal gave me the Talk, too. Promised to make me miserable if I hurt him, which is fair.

Malcolm talked about future plans with you, though? The traveling idea? [ Will's eyes light up. ] I didn't expect him to be that excited.

He's behind me in line. But that's good, that sentiment. [Anything other than Happy and Shotgun conversations would happen. Scarier than shovel talks, in Raylan's opinion.]

He seemed to have a worry that if you guys visited before you graduated that you might not ever want to come back to finish the job. I think any fraction of a happy, quasi-normal life is exciting for him. Which is a good thing. Guy deserves a little of that for himself. You do too, even if I'm not familiar with your story.

[ Ah, so Malcolm hasn't told Raylan- probably very few people, then- about the real reason he's here. What he's avoiding back home, even if it's temporary. Well, Will certainly isn't going to out him right now. ]

I don't think we'll ever hit 'normal,' but quasi-normal honestly sounds perfect. Maybe I'll even manage to teach him how to fish, one of these days.

And- you ever want my story, I'll tell you. Over whisky, though, because we'd both need at least one drink to get through that. Roman kept refilling my glass when I went into more detail.

He might take some pleasure in guttin' 'em. Not a bad idea.

And I would like to hear it. Your story. Once shit's settled down though, once everyone's recovered. Couple of different places to do it too, dependin' on what you're feelin'. I'm partial to porches in fields myself, but that's bias.

Porches in fields...that's my favorite place to chat. And drink. Just add some dogs, and it might as well be heaven.

Just let me know when you'd like to talk. I haven't been here long enough to know what's 'settled down'- other than people I know being out of the infirmary, I suppose.

It is the prime spot for lazy dog days.

I can reach out in a couple days? Maybe four or five, give Malcolm time to recoup, let you leave without worry.

Sure, I appreciate that. Just let me know. And no rush- I'm aware there's constantly a new crisis around here.

Yeah if somethin' comes up, let me know. I'm tryin' to stay out of them, myself. Anyway, soon enough.

Thanks.

u ok

I came out of this better than most, which seems to be a trend with me.

How about you? You okay? You're going to be the Tattooed Lady for a while.

[She loves your optimism about her future chances of survival, buddy.]

kind of tired

[And feeling dead inside!]

going to bug reid about that meeting soon

[ Yeah, he feels you, Shaw. ]

Good luck. I don't expect I'll be invited. I'm not an 'aggrieved party,' after all.

Edited (random 'k', better than special k) 2023-06-21 16:33 (UTC)

bullshit you're not

you're invited, i'm inviting you

I doubt that's how that'll work, but okay.

hold on

[There's a few minutes' pause.]

reid wants to do it in one of the library rooms. i don't think he's going to object to you being there but i'll kick the door down to get you in if i have to.

Don't kick the door down, please. But if there's no objections, I'd like to be there.

[Another pause!]

no, you're right, the asshole's giving me shit about it

[ Yeah, he figured- considering how he'd acted over the Network, it made sense. ]

Don't die on that hill, Shaw. I'll hear about the meeting, either way. It's all right.

no, i think this is definitely the hill i'm going to die on

[ Ugh Shaw, why. ]

I won't go, so don't argue for me. Okay? I don't want to be allowed in on some sort of pity argument. I wasn't physically or mentally attacked. I just know Malcolm doesn't mind getting stabbed as much as I mind him getting stabbed.

And he's getting Gaius' healing service anyway, so it's not going to matter in the future.

you deserve better than this, and i'm supposed to just not give a crap about that? you anticipating this and being used to it is why i can't just let it slide. this place is filled to the brim with the kind of corruption where who you know matters more than what you do, and like hell i'm going to let you or de lioncourt's next victims get thrown under the bus for it without a fight.

[ His reply comes a couple minutes later- he appreciates this, but also...he doesn't see a way to make it better. Not without going way outside the lines. ]

Shaw, everyone had lost their minds with those bugs around. Seeing the favoritism and the evils of humanity- or sapience- is not anything new to me. Me being at that meeting is not going to change whatever of that still remains under our now more-presentable outer shells.

All that will happen is my presence will be used to make both you and me the bad guy here. Inmate and warden flavors. I don't mind, but I don't want it to be for bureaucratic reasons. They'll say you're the one that's corrupt.

So to make it truly fair, so Lestat doesn't have more seats for his pity party, I shouldn't be there. Tell me about it afterwards. Record it, even.

And maybe they'll surprise us. I actually think Reid's usually pretty reasonable. But please don't make me get dragged through something like this again. I don't want this sort of attention. I've played the scapegoat far too often, and I hated it every time.

[She doesn't answer immediately, but she does check her warden item to see where he is.]

[ He's on the Deck right now, taking a break from walking his dogs. They lounge at his feet as he sits on a bench. ]

[And a few minutes later, she shows up without warning, dropping down next to him.]

Okay.

[She hates this so much! But okay.]

[ He hates it, too! But there's still a more preferred and less preferred option. And it seems like he might be getting his way here? ]

Okay?

...thank you.

[ Jet's the first to reach her, rubbing his nose under her hands like he's trying to show her how to pet him. ]

The hell are you thanking me for?

[She asks, reaching down to rub Jet's face with both hands. Despite her words, her tone is surprised and a little confused, not aggressive; she has, by her count, failed him miserably over the past few days.]

For leaving things alone when I asked you to?

[ He's pretty sure he didn't read that wrong. ]

I haven't protected you, Will.

[ Will considers that, eyes looking skyward for a moment. ]

You listened to what I was asking and decided to let me make the choice. Not even Alana Bloom could manage that, in all the time I knew her.

I think that counts for more than you realize.

[She's quiet for a moment. Then she gives him a quick nod.]

[ And the tension drains from his face. He actually smiles a little as he reaches down to pet Winston. ]

I don't know what we do next, though.

[She admits, curling her fingers lightly into Jet's fur.]

This place is such bullshit.

[ He hums thoughtfully. ] Less so than where I came from, so I suppose I'm biased.

Next, though- it's not like everything's over. The meeting might go somewhere. Reid's got Lestat's file, so he should know what he's capable of. You can bring your grievances, a nice big list of 'em.

[ He scrutinizes her. ]

Why are you so frustrated? Because I was upset in the infirmary?

Because this is wrong. Because our job is to help people, protect people, and redeem people, but all most wardens care about is enabling people and making themselves look good. Because not enough people care that de Lioncourt hurts people, and not enough people care about trying to keep it from happening again.

[She lifts her head, meeting Will's gaze.]

You want me to bug the meeting for you?

[ Will laughs, and looks at her with a raised eyebrow. It is a little tempting. ]

No. But if you record it openly, I wouldn't mind. Might be a good idea, just in case people remember some things differently, too.

[ He bites his lip as he thinks for a moment. ]

This place, it houses the worst of the worst....and a few people like Neal. Part of what it tries to focus on is individuals, and what they need. So I don't blame some wardens for taking different approaches. Trying to tie down Lestat is probably going to make him worse. If you really want to redeem him, a warden would have to take a different approach.

-which unfortunately means that the 'wrong' is bound to happen. Maybe that's why we come back from the dead so easily...

"Yeah," she says bitterly, thunking her head against the side of the ship. "Gotta keep the cannon fodder around for the supervillains to play with, because god forbid they be kept on a leash."

[Shaw sends over a photo of Reid's meeting invitation.]

This is the most pretentious thing I've ever seen. If he's going to be this up his own ass the entire time, maybe you're lucky you're missing it.

He's from Victorian times, isn't he? Everything was far more formal then.

Although those are almost as fancy as Hannibal's dinner invitations, so maybe you have a point there.

At least there's one or two things we probably don't have to worry about here.

got another question for you, actually.

Yeah? What's that?

Caffrey says a lot of inmates are furious because of some stuff I said on the warden filter, about the speakeasy. I guess it got leaked out. You want me to try to do damage control or whatever? You made a good point about you getting blowback for being paired with me. I don't want that.

It did get leaked. But it was also something that's been brewing awhile, mixed up with discussions about the power dynamic between warden and inmate, as well as anger over wardens not getting demoted when they apparently really should have.

So far, I haven't gotten any blowback there. As far as I can tell, I haven't been blocked out of anything. And that was before we all regained our reasoning. So thanks for asking, but I don't think it's necessary for me.

Besides, I'm not the best judge of 'damage control' and I'm guessing you aren't either.

Not even a little bit.

[But she'd give it a go if he wanted her to. Still, him not seeing it as necessary is a big relief.]

So Reid is a sanctimonious dick.

Did you listen until they made me turn it off?

I did. Although I didn't expect you to livestream it. I would've been fine with an audio recording.

How'd the rest of it go?

I... don't know. Could've been worse, I guess. You want a full run-down?

[ And this is why Will asked. Because being mad at Reid isn't being mad at the whole meeting. ]

I would. 'Could've been worse,' is better than I expected, at least.

Most people wanted to talk punishment - consequences, repercussions, not letting de Lioncourt "get away" with bad behavior, that kinda thing. There was argument about if enough had been done to punish him in the past, and if his victims had been well-informed about those punishments, which still doesn't seem like the most important issue to me, but whatever. We talked about the flood, and whether it's right to hold people fully accountable for their actions during it. We debated about whether or not sitting in the greenhouse and keeping an eye on de Lioncourt is "stalking". We talked about de Lioncourt having sit-downs with his victims in an attempt to get him to see them as people. Pretty much everybody thought that was worth giving a shot; it was the one thing there was widespread agreement on.

[ Will's quiet for awhile, digesting the information. ]

Well. At least they agreed on that. Reid talked to me privately earlier, by the way- I explained why I was so bothered by the issue. I mentioned how I spent a lot of my time back home watching people get hurt, and it's terrible for me. He seemed to understand and offered to let me talk to Lestat- supervised, of course. If you're okay with it.

Sounds like that's the general consensus for the direct victims, too. Any talk about prevention, before he starts- hopefully- regaining a sense of basic decency?

[She makes a small, disgruntled noise in the back of his throat.]

Reid was very insistent that any kind of oversight just "makes him worse".

[ Will groans, sounding annoyed- but probably not for the same reasons as Shaw. ]

Damn it. I'd have to know more, but...Reid might be right about that. Some personality disorders respond very poorly to being 'managed,' controlled, or watched. Him being a vampire just means that there's hundreds of years of that to undo rather than just a couple of decades.

Was there any talk about what to do if floods mess him up again? He's only gotten violent during those, hasn't he? Although that first one wasn't a mind-affecting flood.

Bright brought it up. It immediately turned into a big argument about how much he should be blamed versus how much the flood should be blamed.

[This is punctuated with a heavy roll of her eyes.]

So basically, no, not really.

[ Deep, annoyed sigh. ]

Great.

Listen- I'll tell you now. If there's ever a flood where I have advantage over Lestat, I'll probably hurt him. Might be the flood affecting me, might just be that I'm frustrated. And then we can see how much people's minds change about what should be done.

Mm, depends on with who, probably. I don't think you'd get the majority of the Barge clamoring for anything any more than de Lioncourt or Avalon or Creel did.

Eh, maybe not.

[ More sighing. That's not really the response he'd want- not that he might care in the event of a flood, anyway. ]

Well, that's partially why I took that offer from Gaius, anyway. If other people aren't going to try and stop these things, I might as well try for protection. Thanks for pointing me that way.

You still hanging onto that gun and knife?

I am. Since Henry brought all those monsters back with them, I'm consistent about having them with me when I'm out of the cabin.

Good.

I'll still jump between you and anyone; you know that, right?

I know.

I assume that goes for if I'm trying to attack someone else, as well?

Yup. But I'm not-- that won't mean I'm looking to tell you to just let go, or forgive and forget.

I know that, too. And I appreciate it. I know you're just as frustrated as me.

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