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[ 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.

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STILL NETWORK, STILL AUDIO, ignore my fuckup in the last tag too

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