The Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane set Will on edge. Anyone and anything involving psychology had a habit of setting him on edge. He worried that he would be examined, poked and prodded, have his brain exposed for the world to see. He steered clear when he could, but if Jack needed him, he could hardly say no. So, as he walked the halls to meet the man in charge of the place, he kept his eyes down, using his glasses as a shield between him and the facility.

After a quick once over as Chilton invited them inside the room, he could tell that the man lived under a blanket of false pride and self-confidence. He liked to think that he was better than everyone he came into contact with. Will saw arrogance, envy, ambition, and self-loathing. He instantly disliked him but almost wanted to feel bad for him if it weren't for all of his terrible personality flaws.

Once they were in the room with the door closed, Dr. Chilton turned to Will with curiosity in his eyes as he held out his hand. "Dr. Bloom just called me about you, Mr. Graham," he began as Will accepted his offer of a handshake. Once their hands touched, Will felt a mild burning sensation on his palm. Based on Chilton's expression and the wavering way he finished his sentence, Will could tell he felt it too. "Or should I call you… Dr.… Graham?"

"I'm, um, not a doctor," Will said as he quickly withdrew his hand.

In unison, they both stared down at their palms to see a pair of interlocking circles branded onto their flesh. Will stepped back looking from his hand to the man before him and he slowly shook his head. Dr. Frederick Chilton, however, seemed transfixed by the mark on his hand, his face entirely unreadable. Will might've thought he was in shock if he hadn't been working through the denial that screamed in his head.

"Well, this is… awkward," Frederick said evenly.

"No. No, this is. No," Will said, looking at a bewildered Jack as if he could do something to reverse it.

Jack knew exactly what it meant as he had the mark on his own hand because it had appeared after meeting his wife Bella. Soul mates. The process starts with a brand and then a bond is formed, connecting their minds, allowing them to sense each other's emotions. As soul mates get to know each other, the bond deepens, allowing them to see and feel more about the other person. And the brands are binding, tying the victims to their intended forever, or at least that's how Will saw it. He saw himself as a victim.

Will closed his hand into a fist and looked up at Frederick Chilton, internally blaming him for what happened. Frederick stared back at him, bemused and intrigued. Will clenched his teeth and shook his head.

"Let's get this over with and get out," he said, turning his attention to Jack as if he could ignore Frederick all together.

Jack looked between Will and Frederick and chose not to say a word, which Will appreciated. Instead, they both stood by the door until Frederick finally understood and wordlessly led them out to the crime scene. After Will viewed the body and stated his deductions, he rushed to leave the building. Even Frederick, who Will imagined would've been trying to make his case for Gideon as the Ripper the whole time, hadn't said much of anything. He had taken to staring at Will oddly while Will actively avoided looking him in the eye.

Once they were nearly outside, Frederick tried to stop Will. "Mr. Graham! Will!"

Will felt a strong but brief pang of interest and desperation causing him to want to turn around but he ignored it. He shook the feelings from his head and left the building with Jack in tow and didn't stop until they reached Jack's car. He leaned on the passenger's side door and opened up the hand he'd been keeping clenched into a fist, staring at the design on his palm. He thought about Frederick, how much he wanted nothing to do with him, and was seized with involuntary sadness. Rather than deal with it, he pushed it away and climbed into the car, slamming the door behind him.

Jack joined him soon after, sitting for a moment rather than starting the car. "I don't particularly want anything to do with your love life—"

"Good, then you should probably stop there," Will interjected, but Jack continued anyway.

"—but don't you think you were a little harsh?"

"Just drive," Will snapped, keeping his gaze out of the window. He spotted Frederick in his office window, sitting at his desk appearing dejected as he stared at his hand, and he immediately chose to stare straight ahead when the engine roared to life.

Once back at home, the first thing Will did was wash his hands. He scrubbed that palm of his right hand until the skin turned red and stung but it did nothing to the black mark burned there. After a few minutes he gave up and retired to his living room where he laid down on his bed with the dogs. Buster nudged his head under Will's hand and he absently pet him feeling a sense of serene contentment and he wondered if Frederick could feel it too.

A part of him hoped that he did because he seemed like it was a feeling he needed, but another part of him felt like it was an intrusion. He had another person in his head, sensing his private emotions. He stopped petting Buster and looked at the mark again, curious as to if he could cut it away with his hunting knife before actually considering the consequences of that act. He sighed heavily and dropped his arm down onto the bed. He'd never wanted to find his soul mate. He didn't want to deal with it and he'd been perfectly fine on his own with the dogs.

On top of everything, he didn't even know much about Dr. Chilton other than the few things Jack told him and what he gleaned through his empathy. He rubbed his eyes, trying to quell the headache forming there. He felt a pang of sympathy, not his own feelings but a response to them. Will groaned, radiating irritation as he shoved a pillow over his face, wishing he could turn it all off. The idea that even his home life was no longer sacred made him feel angry and miserable.

Will removed the pillow and looked down at the dog at his side. "What do you think, Buster? Should I go check this guy out tomorrow?"

Buster perked his ears up and whined, prompting Will to nod his head as if he knew what that meant.

"Yeah, I might as well. If he's going to be in my head for… god, forever, I should know more about him."

Will rubbed at his eyes again, choosing to go to bed and hoping that the unconsciousness of sleep would block Frederick out. He also resolved to call Alana the next day to find out what she knew about the man.

The next morning, Will woke up feeling refreshed from a dreamless sleep. He rolled out of bed, showered, and dressed in order to get ready for a day at the Quantico FBI Academy and it was all so peaceful that he nearly forgot about the soul mate business. However, as he was making breakfast for himself, he felt stress that didn't belong to him. Luckily, it faded after a few minutes but the experience toppled his previously good mood.

After eating a light breakfast of toast, eggs, and coffee, Will headed out, arriving at the Academy just in time for his first lecture. Throughout it, he made a point of keeping his right hand in his pocket or flat on his desk so that his students wouldn't notice the mark. It managed to go by smoothly without interruption and once the class left, he found himself with a mostly free hour. He headed to his office but kept the lights off so he wouldn't be interrupted by inquiring students and called Alana.

"Will, hello," Alana said, sounding surprised as she picked up on the second ring.

"Hi, I hope I'm not interrupting anything," Will said, leaning back in his desk chair.

"Not at the moment. What's going on?" she said, curiosity seeping into her tone.

Will frowned, briefly wondering if Frederick would be able to tell what he was doing based on his emotions alone. "I was just wondering what you know about Dr. Chilton."

"I take it you had an interesting experience with him yesterday," Alana said, sounding amused.

"Interesting is one word for it," he said before swapping the phone to his left hand so he could look at his palm.

"Well, he's not the worst person in the field. He's keeping the hospital going," Alana said in a way that Will could sense the smile in her tone.

"That's reassuring," Will sighed, dropping his hand onto the desk. He couldn't say he was surprised that he wasn't particularly respected.

"Why? Are you planning on changing therapists?" Alana said, suddenly sounding concerned.

"No, no. Just curious," Will said, wondering if Hannibal knew anything about him.

"To be honest, he's a bit of a joke to a lot of people in the field. I don't think he's as bad as everyone says, but he earned himself a bit of a reputation after he left the medical field to avoid embarrassment. Let's just say he's a better psychiatrist than a doctor."

"Do you know anything else?" Will said, wanting to know more about his personal life than his professional one.

"I'm afraid not. I don't know anyone who's that close with him," Alana said, starting to sound rushed. "Listen, Will, I have to head out for an appointment. I'll talk to you soon?"

"Yeah, okay. Thanks."

"You're welcome. Sorry I didn't have more for you. Bye."

"Bye."

Will returned his cell phone to his pocket, left mostly alone with his thoughts with the exception of the knot of stress at the back of his mind that had been building throughout the day. Will knew Frederick had a lot to deal with in regards to the Abel Gideon case and he felt a little pity for him, even if Will slightly blamed him for the lax security that resulted in the nurse's death. He tried to put it all out of his mind as he turned on the light in his office and sat back down to grade some papers.

At the end of the day, he headed to Baltimore for his weekly appointment with Hannibal, leaving a little early just to be sure that he'd be on time. He stood in the waiting room for a few minutes until Hannibal finally opened the door, allowing him inside. After over a month of attending sessions with Hannibal, the novelty of the lavish room had worn off and he hardly saw all of the priceless trinkets and artwork around the room. All he really noticed was Hannibal and the two chairs they sat down in.

"Will, it's good to see you," Hannibal said as he shut the door behind Will. "Please, sit down."

Will nodded and complied, sitting down in one of the black chairs. Hannibal joined him by sitting in the one across from him. Will hardly noticed as he was looking down at his hand, tracing the mark with his thumb. He didn't notice Hannibal staring at him, examining him with mild irritation in his eyes.

"Something on your mind, Will?" Hannibal said, disturbing the silence.

"Hm?" Will said, snapping out of his reverie. "No, nothing…"

Hannibal frowned just enough for it to be noticeable. "Did something happen that you don't wish to discuss?"

Will glanced down at his hand again before he sighed. "Yeah, something did."

"We don't have to talk about it but it might be good for you if you did," Hannibal said, his expression always unreadable unless he wanted it to be read. Will had noticed that about him.

Will glanced down at his hand and up at Hannibal before he held it out for him to see. Hannibal's eyes widened fractionally as shifted to the very edge of his seat and reached out, gently holding Will's hand in his own. He tilted it down for a better look and his expression hardened as his eyes traced the brand. Will frowned, confused as Hannibal seemed to hold onto his hand for a little longer than necessary. Hannibal seemed to realize it too as he abruptly let go and sat back, trying to distance himself.

"So, you found your soul mate," Hannibal said a little coldly.

"Yeah, unfortunately," Will said, bringing his hand back to his body, keeping it palm down on his stomach.

"You feel negatively about it?" Hannibal said, though Will could tell he knew the answer.

"I certainly don't feel good. I… ugh, I just never wanted this. I didn't want to fall prey to this trap. I don't need complications like this in my life," Will said, feeling all of his emotions and complaints he kept down bubble up.

"I'm sorry you feel that way, Will. Would you like to talk about your problems with this person?" Hannibal said, sitting forward in his chair again.

Will stared down at the hands in his lap, thinking about Frederick when he suddenly felt worried for no reason. He shook it off, feeling bitter once again about the intrusion to his mind. "What do you know about Dr. Frederick Chilton?"

Hannibal stiffened, the muscles in his jaw working. "Dr. Chilton? He's who you're bound to?"

"That's him. You know him?"

"I know a little," Hannibal said, still frozen in place. He sat back a moment later, relaxing as he made eye contact with Will. "He runs the Baltimore State Hospital, yes?"

Will nodded. "It's where we met. Working this Abel Gideon case. Chilton thinks Gideon is the Ripper, but he isn't. It's obvious."

The edges of Hannibal's lips turned up slightly for a moment. "You don't seem like a very good fit, I wonder why the two of you were bonded."

"Yeah, I've been wondering that myself. He's in my head all the time and I hate it." Will's irritation flared up and he felt a timid, apologetic reply. He dropped his head into his hands, guilt striking him hard.

"What is it, Will?" Hannibal said, the sound of his voice barely reaching his ears.

"Nothing, I just keep blaming him but it's not his fault. It's not really anyone's fault, I guess," Will said, bringing his head back up so he could see Hannibal as he spoke to him.

"No, it is just how the world works," Hannibal agreed. "If you like, I could look into him for you. I have more connections in the psychological community, I can gather a basic profile."

Will smiled briefly. "Thank you, Hannibal, but no. Maybe I should just talk to him myself. Face the music, as it were."

"If you think that's best," Hannibal said.

"I have no idea, but it seems the most direct route," Will sighed. "I'll let you know how it goes."

Hannibal nodded before changing the subject back to the case Will was currently working on. The rest of their session passed by in a blur and soon Will was back in his car, on his way home. He felt exhausted as he parked and greeted his dogs at the door, letting them out since they'd been cooped up inside all day. He grabbed a beer from his fridge and sat out on the porch to keep an eye on them as the moon light and porch light lit up his yard.

He tried to relax and unwind, but after about ten minutes of sitting outside, he felt a trickle of emotions leak into his head. Sadness, self-hatred, anxiety. It started off slow and faint but it quickly turned up until he felt it all so strongly that he wasn't entirely sure what feelings were and weren't his. After a few minutes his head started to hurt from the assault and it took him a while to realize that Frederick was drunk and not in control of what he felt.

Will laughed at the realization and held up his half empty beer in a toast before he drained the rest of it and stood up to grab another. He stopped trying to block out Frederick's emotions and just let them in, let them wash over him. They almost felt like a drug as he felt things he never let himself feel. He joined Frederick, drinking a few more beers until he was sure Frederick was experiencing the same barrage. Eventually, Frederick's emotions turned around, hopeful feelings that filled Will with warmth.

After an hour or so of drinking, Will called the dogs back and they all retired inside. He changed out of his clothes and lay down in his bed as he closed his eyes. He decided that, in that moment, he liked the feeling of another person inside his head. He'd been drunk enough times to know that it felt better when he wasn't drunk alone and he could tell that Frederick felt the same. He fell into a deep, drunken sleep not long after, a mix of emotions swirling around that were and weren't from his own mind.

The next day was a day off for him, no classes, no calls from Jack as of yet. The morning passed into noon with an air of peace as he chose to spend his free time working on a broken boat engine for an acquaintance at the Academy. All the while, he felt a dull throb of anxiety just under the surface of his peace but he was starting to get used to the intrusion of Frederick's emotions. They became a low buzz of background noise in his head.

When he was nearly done with the engine, the nervous energy at the back of his mind erupted into a flood until he could feel his own heart pounding hard against his ribs. Will dropped his tools and pressed a hand to his chest, breathing a little too hard as a wave of nausea swept over him. He couldn't help but wonder what the hell Frederick was doing to make him feel so terrible. Will sat up, his back leaning against the end of his bed, curled up with his knees to his chest, hoping the feeling would pass soon.

Before it had the chance, his dogs suddenly became alert, barking at seemingly nothing as they gathered around the door. Will strained to hear what they were hearing but didn't understand until someone rang his doorbell. He struggled to his feet, the nervousness in his mind hitting its peak as he walked over and threw the door open to see Frederick standing there.

He was dressed in an expensive-looking dark blue suit, his hair perfectly combed, with small bouquet of assorted flowers strangled in the tight grip of his right hand. It was such an amusing sight that he forgot all of the transferred anxiety and cracked a smile. He quickly covered it up with his right hand as he leaned against the doorway, drinking the sight in until the dogs realized the door was open and bounded out to greet the new, interesting person.

Frederick jumped back a little as the pack of dogs ran out to greet him. They looked ready to jump on him but Will quelled that urge with a single noise command after seeing the worry in Frederick's eyes. Instead, they calmly sniffed him, curious of the new scents, and nipped a little at the flowers. Frederick moved the flowers out of their reach but a few of them had already lost a good number of petals.

"I'm sorry," Frederick said, looking down at the pathetic display as if he just realized what he was holding. "I don't know what I'm doing."

He turned away to leave and Will could feel his embarrassment. "Frederick, wait. Why don't you come inside? I've been meaning to call you."

Frederick paused and turned back, staring hard at Will as if trying to read his intentions. He frowned and conceded, walking back across the porch and through the open doorway. Will beckoned the dogs back in and shut the door, turning around to see Frederick surveying his surroundings. Will watched as he looked over the dog beds, the chairs, the books, and Will's own bed all set up in the living room. He seemed to forget himself until Winston snatched the flowers from his hand. He panicked, trying to grab them back, but Winston dodged him.

"Hey, Winston," Will scolded, calling the dog to him. Winston dropped the flowers into Will's hand and Will looked them over. Roses, carnations, baby's breath. Will found it endearing. "Thank you for these."

Frederick glanced down at his feet for a moment before straightening his posture. He tried to recover an air of confidence. "You're welcome."

"Um, have a seat anywhere. Do you want anything to drink?" Will said, remembering his manners.

"No, thank you," Frederick said, finding a chair to sit in and unbuttoning his jacket.

Will set down the flowers, cleaned up his scattered tools, and moved his toolbox and nearly finished engine to one of the kitchen counters, the dogs following him all the while. When he returned to the living room, he sat in a chair across from Frederick, feeling unsure and awkward. Silence hung over the two of them for a moment, neither of them knowing how to break it.

"I'm sorry about what happened the other day," Will began, finding his courage first. "I didn't handle myself very well and I blamed you for something that wasn't your fault."

Frederick nodded, glancing down at his right palm. "It's… it's okay. I never expected to find my soul mate either and while I didn't anticipate such a vehement rejection, I can't say I blame you."

Will frowned, feeling Frederick's sadness and his own guilt. "I wouldn't call it a rejection. I was… surprised."

"And disappointed," Frederick said. A statement because he knew it as fact. He'd felt it.

"Disappointed because I prefer my solitude, not because of you. I'm sorry," Will said, sitting forward with his forearms resting on his knees.

"It's okay, Will. To be fair, if you'd known what I was thinking about you before all of this occurred, I wouldn't have been too pleased to be bonded with me either," Frederick said sheepishly.

Will's worry and curiosity rose. "What were you thinking?"

"That you'd be an interesting subject of study," Frederick replied, being compliant and forthcoming. "What you do, it would make for quite the piece in psychological journals."

Will tensed and frowned, reexamining Frederick. "I'd rather not be the subject of any study while I'm still around to know about it."

"I have no such intentions now," Frederick said, quick to make amends. "Though, I am admittedly still curious, it's a professional curiosity that I have put far away. I don't want to make things between us any worse."

Will nodded and stood up, crossing the floor until he stood at a half-way point. He held out his branded hand to Frederick. "Let's try this again."

Frederick hesitated but stood up to meet him, clasping Will's hand in his.

"It's nice to meet you. I'm Will Graham. Professor at the FBI Academy in Quantico and occasional boat mechanic," he said, shaking his hand.

"I'm Dr. Frederick Chilton. Head of the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane and part time wine enthusiast," he replied with a smirk. "It's good to meet you too."

Will smiled at him, holding onto his hand for a moment or two longer than necessary. Soon he let go, dropping his hand back to his side, feeling awkward again but for a different reason. The man before him was his soul mate. The implications of that hadn't quite hit him until that moment. For some reason, the universe decided that he and Frederick were made to be together and he was in the process of figuring out why.

"Are you hungry? I haven't stopped to have lunch yet if you wanted to get something," Will offered, rubbing the back of his neck as he did so.

Frederick looked and felt surprised at the offer. "Oh, thank you. But I should be getting back. There's a lot of work to be done."

Will nodded and flashed a smile. "I understand."

"But I'll take a rain check. Maybe dinner sometime this week?" Frederick said eagerly.

"Yeah, sure. I'll give you my number."

Frederick pulled out his light blue iPhone from his jacket pocket and handed it to Will who input his number. Their fingers brushed when he handed it back but they both pretended not to notice. They said their goodbyes and Will showed Frederick out, watching from the window as he pulled out of the driveway in his shiny, vintage car. Once he was out of sight, Will turned to his dogs.

"What do you guys think?"

They all barked at him in response and he nodded.

"Yeah, I think so too."