empathicfault | IC Inbox

Malcolm's expression, starting to brighten, creases in concern when it starts. He recognizes what it is to see a horror movie in your head that you can't stop. Intimately. He sprays his hand on Will's chest.

"You have a unique ability to connect to people. To anyone. To understand them. Some people where you came from... they wanted to use it. So they used you. And you got hurt. But you're not going back there anymore. You're staying with me. I won't let them hurt you again."

He looks up at Will's face, determination in his features, but also a little shame: he hadn't protected Will from Justine's little game.

"You're staying with me now." He takes off his ring and holds it up for Will to look at. "Do you remember this?"

Will's eyes look around, even as they partially squint due to the the oncoming headache. He worries his lip with his teeth at hearing he can connect with people, but- oh yes. He was very useful. Jack's bloodhound. The FBI's mad dog. Takes one to catch one.

He can feel his mind spiraling around various awhile truths, and he almost clutches at his head. But Malcolm's question distracts him from the slide and he looks up with wide, vulnerable eyes that make him look almost a decade younger. They focus on the ring, then on his ring. "Something about broken...ceramics. And the cracks."

He says it uncertainly. It's a bit of hope in this ocean of painful interactions he's suddenly finding himself in.

Malcolm watches his face carefully.

"Do you remember giving it to me?"

He squeezes his eyes shut as he tries to summon the memory. He's close, he knows it, but he feels like he's trying to swim through a heavy current. Too slow. And there are too many things trying to pull him in different directions.

"No one's born broken..." is what he murmurs after a moment.

"Someone breaks us," Malcolm whispers. "Let's..." He glances around. "Do you think it would help to go to our cabin?" he asks. "Do you think... seeing your things and.... and your art would help?"

Will sniffs, and the tears that he sheds upon opening his eyes are his own. He knows who broke him now. He knows there are others that made it worse. He's scared to look any further, but it'll probably still come.

But for now, he looks at Malcolm and nods and hugs him tight. "If it's both of ours. I want to be...safe. My head hurts." He breathes out a deep but shaky sigh. "...can you help me there?"

Malcolm nods, stepping out of Will's embrace just enough to take his hand and hold it tight, staying shoulder to shoulder with him as he starts them towards the stairs. He's concerned. He's very concerned. He doubts she thought to test this drug on werewolves. What if it doesn't work like it's supposed to? What if he has holes afterwards, like Malcolm does, except the holes are his time on the Barge. His time with Malcolm. He tries not to catastrophize, but his stomach is churning. He takes a deep breath through his nose and pushes it out through his mouth as they walk. He can't have a panic attack right now; Will needs him.

"I can show you some pictures when we get there. Maybe... maybe they'll help you remember. Maybe they'll trigger your memory of those times."

Will snorts, shakes his head- and immediately regrets doing that. "It's coming back, but it's...a lot. The- the actions I've taken and things I only saw. Feelings I've felt."

He puts his arm around Malcolm's shoulders, leaning fully on him. "You're the only part that isn't...sour in some way. And I had to leave my whole world behind before I met you."

Malcolm manages a weak smile at that. And at Will wrapping an arm around him. He’s a genius even without all his memories. He slides his own arm around Will’s waist. Extra support. For at least one of them.

“We’re all from different world’s here. You and me… we decided not to live in yours or mine. Do… do…” he looks up sidelong at Will, trying to make himself form the prompt, but this is so part of their heart… it takes him a second to make the words come out. “Do you remember where we decided to go?”

He squints a moment, then relaxes a bit. "Our own place. Away from everything...but only if we want that. A ship. We want to travel, and help people. I want to destroy the bad ones."

He's not surprised by that, but it does make him frown again. He knows the last bit, but he doesn't feel it yet.

Malcolm can see that it's more like watching something on TV than something that's happened to him, but it's a start. And if he keeps him talking about his time here, maybe it will distract him from the details of Hannibal flooding back.

"Do you remember the day we met?"

Will's still leaning on him, but this question gets an easy smile. Apparently, distracting him is working well. He doesn't even have to mentally reach for this one.

"Mmmhmm. It was the second day I was here. I was sure people were going to shove me into Counseling right away, so I...I wanted to see what I had to contend with. Didn't expect to find someone who'd see me so well. We talked, for hours. It was an instant connection."

That warms Malcolm’s smile a little as they near their door.

“I didn’t realize you were… attracted to me,” he says. “I was just happy that you seemed like you wanted to be friends. You had to come over here…” He unlocks the door with his free hand and pushes it open. “And… tell me…” He steers Will through the door without letting him go, giving Winston room to get in before kicking it shut. Buster runs over in the meantime, sniffing eagerly at Will. “Do you remember that night?” Malcolm asks hopefully. “It was hands down one of the best nights of my whole life.”

Now that they're not on the stairs, Will's feeling a little steadier. He still leans on Malcolm, though, not feeling at all like letting go.

This doesn't become a problem until they're inside they're cabin, where everything feels and looks and smells right, and Will nearly instinctively crouches down to pet Buster as he wags and ruffs at him. "Hey, Buster. I'm home," he says quietly (but with emphasis) as he rubs the dog's back.

Malcolm's words finally click with him as he remembers everything that was said and done that night, and his face flushes a bright red. No need to wonder if actually remembers. "I- yeah. Pretty sure it was one of mine, too. I was fully expecting you to tell me it wouldn't work for some reason, but I had to say something..."

Malcolm smiles when Will blushes.

"I'm glad you did. My quality of life is vastly improved. Do you want tea? I can make the peach and ginger one?" he offers. "Or peppermint?"

"Peppermint," he replies with confidence. "I'm rather nauseous. I'll...go sit on the couch?" The dogs already seem to be trying to lead him there. He looks a bit torn, though. He doesn't want to leave Malcolm's side. The man's pretty much anchoring him to reality right now.

“I’ll just put the kettle on really fast and I’ll come with you?” Malcolm suggests, hurrying to do it before Will gets too far, then he runs ahead to get the blankets ready, their blanket poised to wrap around their shoulders once they settle in. He snuggles up against Will’s side, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

“Does this feel familiar?” he asks, once they’re all wrapped up.

Will allows himself to be wrapped up, leaning against Malcolm as soon as he's able. "It does," he murmurs. "It feels right."

The soft flutter of confusion is slowly easing out of his voice, being slowly replaced by a measure of control. He licks his lips as he sits there, pets his dogs and leans against his fiancé, and he lets himself breathe. A stopgap before what comes next.

"There's something...else. A part of my world that I...I don't want to touch it. But, it's-" He shifts his head a little to look Malcolm in the eyes. "It's going to come back anyway, isn't it?"

Malcolm presses his lips together.

He wishes he could say 'no', but...

"Stuff from before the Barge?" Malcolm clarifies. "I.... I've been told it will all come back." He pauses. "Well. That it's all supposed to come back. I'm sorry."

Will nods, looking somewhat resigned. He leans his head against Malcolm's.

"And you love me anyway," he adds, as if daring Malcolm to say otherwise. He's clinging to a world he has the barest details on.

“…Anyway?” Malcolm snuggles closer. “I don’t have any highground on the horrors, Wiil,” he says. “I don’t have any love you, though. All of you. Everything about you.”

That settles him, at least for the moment. He rumbles out a content 'hmmm' and hugs Malcolm tight.

And then he stills, hugs Malcolm more tightly, and then he starts shaking. He finally gave up on Not Looking, so- you donn't have to look alone- it's all- I AM alone!- tumbling out. Like his sanity in a brain fever or his mind spraying into the droplets of blood on the air.

He grips Malcolm tight, groaning at the weight of it all. The 'horrors'- that's not an exaggeration. He remembers the induced seizures, the gutting, the people who died under his watch. He remembers-

"Hannibal." It's the barest whisper.

[ooc: that was I DO LOVE YOU, THOUGH. Fucking predictive text on my phone changing it after I typed it properly.]

Malcolm's brow creases at that whisper.

"...Yeah. The void could have kept him," he concedes. No love lost between him and his ostensible rival, though he doesn't feel in any danger of losing Will to him these days. He presses a kiss to Will's temple, fingers fidgeting with the hem of Will's shirt. "Do you remember your Becoming?" he asks softly. It's one thing he knows is particularly meaningful for Will from that time. The before him time.

[ooc: I figured it was something like that!]

"My..." He heaves a breath, in and out. Because he does, he just has to reach for it. "Blood...and breath..." His voice is shaking. He clears his throat. "They are elements to fuel my radiance."

His shaking slows and he looks up, looks Malcolm in the eyes. "Just as the source of a fire is burning. He...said that to me. And I said it to Francis to entice him. We baited the hook."

“And then killed him,” Malcolm fills in, because he knows this story. “But that stuff… it’s not what makes you radiant.” He takes Will’s hand and lifts it so Will can see the ring on his own finger. “The radiance comes from inside you. Like me. You can tell because it shines through the cracks.” He pauses, holding Will’s gaze for a moment. “We’re the same,” he says soberly.

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Re: Right after Jedao reports Justine's Amnesia Attack on Will

Re: Right after Jedao reports Justine's Amnesia Attack on Will

Re: Right after Jedao reports Justine's Amnesia Attack on Will

Re: Right after Jedao reports Justine's Amnesia Attack on Will

Re: Right after Jedao reports Justine's Amnesia Attack on Will

Re: Right after Jedao reports Justine's Amnesia Attack on Will

Re: Right after Jedao reports Justine's Amnesia Attack on Will

Re: Right after Jedao reports Justine's Amnesia Attack on Will

Re: Right after Jedao reports Justine's Amnesia Attack on Will

Re: Right after Jedao reports Justine's Amnesia Attack on Will

Re: Right after Jedao reports Justine's Amnesia Attack on Will

Re: Right after Jedao reports Justine's Amnesia Attack on Will

Re: Right after Jedao reports Justine's Amnesia Attack on Will

Re: Right after Jedao reports Justine's Amnesia Attack on Will

Re: Right after Jedao reports Justine's Amnesia Attack on Will

Re: Right after Jedao reports Justine's Amnesia Attack on Will

Re: Right after Jedao reports Justine's Amnesia Attack on Will

Re: Right after Jedao reports Justine's Amnesia Attack on Will

Re: Right after Jedao reports Justine's Amnesia Attack on Will

Re: Right after Jedao reports Justine's Amnesia Attack on Will

Re: Right after Jedao reports Justine's Amnesia Attack on Will

Re: Right after Jedao reports Justine's Amnesia Attack on Will

Re: Right after Jedao reports Justine's Amnesia Attack on Will

Re: Right after Jedao reports Justine's Amnesia Attack on Will