empathicfault | IC Inbox

[ 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?

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