Author's Note: Sanctuary Bino. Having to use . as paragraph break due to FFnet's funky formatting.
Prompt: Hangover

How do you begin to forgive a friend, when they tried to kill you?

This was the question that was currently plaguing Dr. Will Zimmerman, and had been ever since the day his best friend, Henry Foss, had tried to kill him. Unable to talk to either Kate or the Big Guy, given their involvement, and unwilling to talk to Helen Magnus, Will decided the only person he could properly talk to about this was Declan McCrae, head of the UK Sanctuary. So he made a rather lame excuse to Magnus, something about needing to take certain artefacts to the UK Sanctuary and hopped on a plane to London.

.

Will settled into the oversized leather armchair with a satisfied sigh, stretching out the kinks in his neck that a long-haul flight invariably caused. He gratefully took the glass of scotch offered to him by Declan, who set his own drink on a small table and seated himself opposite his friend. They sat in silence for a short while, Declan watching Will, who in turn watched the play of the flames in the fireplace. While he knew something was bothering his friend, Declan was not going to force the issue and was content to wait for Will to put his thoughts into order and start speaking.

"How the hell do you forgive a friend for trying to kill you?" the question, spoken quietly, broke the silence of the room. "I know it wasn't his fault, but still..."

"How do you forgive any friend when they wrong you?" Declan posed the question, wanting to help Will find the balance he'd lost.

"Sometimes you can feel as though the wrong done to you is too much to forgive," Will admitted, sounding like the psychiatrist he was. "How did you forgive me, after the investigation?"

"There was nothing to forgive," the Brit replied, wanting to avoid the subject which still caused him caused him some pain to think about.

"Yeah, there was," Will contradicted, knowing his actions had deeply hurt his friend. "So, how did you forgive me?"

"When you called and said you were sorry, at first I didn't want to believe you," Declan admitted, taking a sip of his drink. "But afterwards, when I really thought about it, I realised that your friendship was more important than what had happened."

"So you just put it behind you?"

"No," the Brit confessed. "It took a long time before I could talk to you without feeling hurt by the way you'd acted. And it's going to take time for you to be able to get back to where you were with Henry before this happened."

"I know," Will agreed, sipping his drink as he gathered his thoughts. "Thing is, Kate and the Big Guy both have the same issues with me. I tried to kill them, but I woke up remembering only that my best friend had tried to kill me."

"And they did the same," Declan pointed out. "Imagine how Henry must have felt when Helen first got home. He's woken up, the whole place is trashed and you guys are missing. He manages to get the surveillance camera footage back and what does he see? Himself, shooting you in the back! How would you have felt, if that had been you?"

"I would have wondered why the hell I was shooting my best friend. And regardless of what anyone told me later, I would always feel guilty about it. I'd feel like I'd betrayed my best friend," Will admitted, with a sigh.

"And that is your answer," Declan told him. "Can you, having put yourself in his shoes, realise that he was not himself and that he deeply regrets his actions? Is his friendship worth enough to you, that you can put aside the anger you feel and understand he's hurting as much as you are?"

"Yeah," Will agreed. "I've been holding a grudge for no reason, other than wounded pride. Henry didn't know what he was doing and I've been punishing him for his actions, knowing full well that he had no control over anything he did." Will raised his glass to his lips once more, feeling the warm burn of the scotch as it slid down his throat. He knew he would have to make amends, soon, and wondered whether Henry would be willing to forgive him for his own actions.

"At least you didn't end up in an awkward situation with someone," Declan joked. "No major 'morning after' scenarios to deal with." They both laughed as images of nights like that came into their heads, and the inevitable morning after excuses.

.

The two men sat in comfortable silence, watching the fire and thinking their own private thoughts. The wood crackled and popped; the only other sounds in the room where the breathing of the two men as they began to drift off to sleep, lulled by the fire and the alcohol in their systems.

"You know, you should become a psychiatrist," Will said suddenly, breaking the silence and starling Declan out of his doze.

"Why on earth would I want to do that? Then I'd have people turning up on my doorstep and pouring their hearts out to me," the Brit joked with a yawn. "Guest rooms are all made up, help yourself," he told his friend, gripping Will's shoulder briefly as he passed him, heading for his room and a good night's sleep. Will watched the fire for a few moments longer, thinking of ways to say sorry to Henry for his recent behaviour. Honesty is the best policy, he told himself and knew the following days would certainly be interesting.