He felt the bullet pierce his cheek and briefly wondered whether there existed a plastic surgeon good enough the world over to hide the scar it would undoubtedly leave.
He hadn't thought that this was it, he was actually going to die, because that was ridiculous. He was going to be in a nicely secure facility safe from Hannibal while he convinced everyone he was innocent. Of course he's innocent. He literally can't digest meat. They can't actually suspect him, and he isn't going to die here, being shot through glass that really should have been bulletproof.
The force of the bullet knocks his body back and his arm lurches in its socket where his hands are constrained and he is dimly away of searing pain but he can't open his eyes and wow, he's actually dead.
He's dead and everyone is going to think he murdered people. The last time he used a gun he almost shot himself in the foot. He doesn't have the capacity for the intricacies of Hannibal's work. For God's sake, he feels sick at the sight of blood!
Will Graham is going to think he's being lying to him. He might start trusting Hannibal. Hannibal and Will Graham would make such a marvellous pair of murders that they could never be caught and Jack goddamn Crawford would probably think he'd cheated death somehow and was committing everything himself. No.
He angrily wrenches one eye open, wincing at the bright light being shone into it.
"He's alive." A voice says. It sounds disappointed. How flattering.
"Thought so. He's a stubborn son of a bitch." This voice is a little more familiar, but the air seems to be buzzing and all he can see is white. He blinks a few times and the room starts to come into focus.
"Sure I can't just kill him?" The first voice asks. He feels a hand cover his mouth. He wants to bite it angrily, like a pissed off puppy, but doubts that would help his Not-A-Cannibal thing if he could muster the strength the do so anyway.
"No. He didn't do anything." It's Will Graham. Will Graham is here. He believes him. Oh thank god. It's testament to how weird things have become that Will Graham's opinion is important. Even weirder that being with him makes him feel safe.
The original speaker moves into his line of vision. It's that forensic guy, the younger one. What's his name? Zeller? Whatever-his-name-is looks disbelieving and sort of like he still wants to kill him. He reaches up an arm to cover his head to protect himself from any wayward fists thrown in his direction, but the guy looks like he's considering something.
"Okay," Possibly-Zeller speaks "But if we're not actually going to kill him, then what are we going to do?"
His head feels heavy. He moves to stand up, but finds his hands are still cuffed to the table. He may be a murder suspect, but wow, he expected a little more consideration for someone who has just been shot. Oh god, he's been shot?! Why aren't they taking him to the hospital? There's a lot of blood on his shirt, and ow, he should not have moved his neck to look down.
Will Graham seems to notice how confused he is.
"Jimmy stopped the bleeding," the one he assumes must be Jimmy does a little wave at that. The Zeller guy looks at him with something akin to betrayal. Will continues "It was a through-and-through. Missed every major artery, you'll be fine. We just need to keep you away from Hannibal, and get him to admit that he did all this. Zeller doesn't believe he did, but Jack finally does. He's just seeing Alana home, making sure she's aware that you're dead. Hannibal will be told the same, as will basically everyone. We'll sneak you into the hospital under an assumed identity and move you around until we can prove your innocence. Okay?"
He takes a second to process everything and then manages a half smile before speaking.
"He had this… Hannibal was wearing this clear plastic suit to keep the blood off. I don't think I've ever seen anything so creepy."
Will's eyes flash with recognition and then go dark with anger.
"I think I'm going to need to resume my therapy."