A/N: This is not a happy one shot okay, I don't know why I want them in pain. This is my view on the deleted scene that Bryan Fuller keeps teasing us with. Any mistakes are my own. I do not own any of the characters.
It seems impossible. More than impossible actually. She can't believe he is there, standing in front of her in his orange jumpsuit hidden under that navy coat of his. All she wants to do is hold him, run into his arms and never leave, never lose the warmth of his embrace. Because she needs him.
The bark of his dogs snap her back into reality, back to rational thoughts. Will Graham, is at her house. Will Graham who was arrested for murder. The murder of her patient. No. He would never knowingly murder anybody, especially Abigail Hobbs. It seems ridiculous to even contemplate that idea as she watches him with the dogs surrounding him, shadowing him from her view. In that moment the becomes frightened, frightened of the fact that this would be the last time she would see him without a wall of glass between them for who knows how long, however long it takes to set him free.
As he rises his eyes meet hers, blue locked onto blue, both searching for answer neither can give. In this eternal moment they take each other in, memorising each feature the other possesses.
Relief is the first expression Will releases, relief that she is alright, that she was here in this moment when he escaped, having just returned after keeping her promise of picking up his dogs, to keep when until whenever. As he begins to walk towards Alana, her breath quickens; the shock of seeing him still in her eyes. He is standing in front of her, so close she can feel his breath on her face, his smell permeating the air. She can clearly see his face now, the pain of his empathy disappearing with every passing second of looking into her eyes. She savours the moment, wanting to remember him like this, not the Will she is going to see when he is institutionalised, the broken Will.
His voice focuses her, answering the question she hadn't been able to ask. "Yes Alana, I came here for you. Only you. You are the first person I think of from the moment I wake up. I try to find excuses to see you just so I can hear your voice and know that you're still here, still real. You are the only constant in my life, the only one who truly cares for me. Working this job has broken me." The anguish in his face breaks the wall she had been holding, gripping onto it so she didn't crumble yet it came crashing down. She closes the gap between them, flinging her arms around him, clinging onto him, proving that she is there, that she is real so he would never have to doubt himself again. His arms close tightly around, her burying his face in her hair breathing her in. When he finally finds the words to speak, what little hold she had left vanquishes, "When I feel myself slipping, I picture your face. It grounds me, keeps me sane."
A wave of pain, loyalty and love hit Alana square in the chest, her heart races as her mind processes this. She pulls back to stare into his eyes, trying to read what he is thinking but she already knows, because she is staring at a reflection on herself. She knows that this is the first place he came, to make sure that she was safe. The words he spoke hit her again, that she is the only one he needs, the only one that keeps him going, his first priority. And yet, guilt rises from her stomach, guilt that knowing she was first on his mind would make her a distraction, a distraction that could have cost Abigail Hobbs her life.
"Until, I didn't. Until I couldn't keep you grounded, keep the killers thought's out of your head." She's hurt him; she regrets the words as soon as they leave her mouth. Shame fills her face as she tilts it back up to his. His hand lightly caresses her face & pushes her hair behind her ear. Not knowing how to answer he kisses her. She doesn't hesitate, his mouth all too familiar to her now. After years of staring at it, wondering what it would be like, twice she has had the pleasure of kissing Will Graham. His hands worm their way around her back, pulling her closer to him. What started off as slow and passionate becomes raw and intense. The thought of not knowing when she would kiss him again spurs her on, desperation leading her. She doesn't know when it started but she had started to cry, unable to comprehend the thought of dropping by Will's house at night and him not being there. He pulls back and leads her to the table, sitting her on his lap, holding her, whispering words in her ear to calm her down as she clings to him. She doesn't know how long they have been sitting there, entwined with each other but all too soon, Will needs to leave. She knows he has to logically because he is a wanted man but that doesn't stop her from protesting. Will sits her back down and leads Winston to her, the dog lays his head on her lap and he hands find him, barely able to see through the tears Will kisses her one last time, the promise of more on his lips. When she opens her eyes he is gone, and she is sitting at her table with Winston's head on her lap, both of them praying for Will to return.