Chapter Text
Will laid on his bed, he remained completely and utterly still. He had a feeling he was being watched constantly, unable to escape his thoughts. Slowly, his head turned to the side to question the dripping and melting clock that resided on his bedside table. This wasn’t like his normal hallucinatory thinking, he could move more freely. Water poured out of the clock and he remained with a blank expression just staring at it.
His dogs were all snoring and he could just about see Buster looking at him from the corner of his eye, questioning him, interrogating him though nonverbal. Buster cared about him, more than most of the other dogs. The other dogs were just happy to have a home and food, being cared for after being abandoned on the side of the long expanse of road that was just outside of his house.
During his dissociation episodes, he found himself escaping his house, walking down that lonely and endless road holding infinite possibilities and memories. Were they even memories?
Time seemed to warp and stretch for Will. Days blending into nights without distinction. He longed to reconnect with the warmth of human connection, to feel something other than this hollow emptiness gnawing at his soul.
But the harder he tried to grasp onto reality, the further it slipped from his grasp. Each passing moment felt like a lifetime, yet also fleeting, like grains of sand slipping through his fingers. In the depths of his dissociation, Will yearned for a lifeline, a beacon to guide him back to himself. But for now, he remained adrift in the vast expanse of his own mind, a solitary voyager in an ocean of detachment.
Knees creaking and cracking, he sat up and shakily started to stand up. A low and long exhale was released with a staggering breath, tears began to prick at the corners of his eyes yet sadness was not what he had felt. He had not felt this feeling in a while so why would it all be coming back to him now?
A wet, rough yet somewhat smooth nose brushed against his hand, before a tongue lapped at the sweat that must of built up on the teacher. Numb thoughts plagued his mind as he kneeled down to Buster and hugged him, seeking comfort even though all he got back was whimpers and the occasional pant that made his hairs on the back of his neck stand. Looking back at the clock, confusion started to wander into the room.
An hour had passed.
Two calloused palms came up to his eye sockets and rubbed deep, massaging and grounding himself to keep what he fears may happen when he opens his eyes again at bay. That, of course, cannot be controlled and the inevitable occurs.
The next thing he knows, Will is standing just outside of Hannibal’s office. His watch reads ‘4:17’. Not his appointment time but knowing Hannibal’s schedule back to front, he understood that while the older man was in the office, he was not having a patient in until 6:30.
He quietly opened the door, and was greeted with the doctor already about to walk out for something. Will submissively looked up at Hannibal.
“Ha-Hannibal-“ Suddenly, Will collapsed forwards and into the stronger man’s arms.
He breathed heavily as his frail and shaky body was scooped up with ease and cradled as the pair both sat on the couch. Hannibal gazed at Will and hesitantly placed the younger man’s body on the pillow before covering him with his jacket. It covered his whole body as Will was now in a crouched position, closing in on himself. It took a lot for Hannibal not to completely take advantage of this but no, Will needed rest in a desperate way.
Just as Hannibal was about to pull away and start sketching again, a small tug was felt on his shirt. Similar to that of a child in need of protecting. Hannibal’s mind went back to his younger sister, those freezing winter nights in Lithuania and being forced to…never mind. He shouldn’t think about that while in the presence who clearly needed him right now.
“Don’t go…” Will mumbled, almost inaudible but Hannibal could hear his plea.
“As you wish, my dear Will” he responded, smiling and stroking his hair, individually playing with the strands of hair before snapping out of his trance and sitting down just beside Will.
Will felt the dip in the couch and Hannibal gripped his torso and pulled him into his lap. A whine was let out from Will in what could have been rejection from the sudden embrace but he made no attempt to stop it from happening. His legs remained on each side of Hannibal, and his legs were now in a ‘M’ form. It couldn’t have been comfortable but at that point Will showed no care in the pain he should have felt.
Hannibal did.
His hand took to Wills calves and moved his legs to fit behind Hannibal’s back, now they were both comfortable. Being on Hannibal’s lap, his psychiatrists lap surely didn’t feel right. Something felt like he wasn’t supposed to be doing this, he would get in trouble with his dad. He waited and waited for his dad to barge into the room and yell at him again for kissing his best friend from when he was 14. No, no he can’t go back to those thoughts. Will gripped looser on Hannibal and tried to move away but the psychiatrist held harder and more tighter, pulling him in like some kind of constricting snake about to kill its mongoose. Yet, he felt safe.
Wills mind floated back to his childhood and his father. Not much of a father to be honest.