Notes:

WELP

I thought about this for a while and took the plunge to do it. Some music has inspired me, so you might see some of that incorporated later on. Also: Langley says "duddn't" because he has a Southern accent. It's not a typo! I wouldn't lie to you. I don't have the face for it. Thanks to the folks who read this first part for me and gave me suggestions. Though it has not been traditionally beta read, I did most all of the editing myself (not gloating at all...it's just a warning XD)

I hear Hannibal's voice in the well of my mind. I hear him saying words that he's never said to me. It isn't my imagination. It's something else.

Will sat at the edge of the bed in his cell, idly cracking his knuckles in the darkness. A tray of processed Salisbury steak withered peas, and instant potatoes sat on the floor. Will began chewing at his bottom lip when his knuckles had all been cracked, and stared at the ceiling. He'd attempted sleep an hour ahead of time and it didn't work. He looked at the bars in front of him, at the yellow light from windows watching him. Thoughts passed in front of him like shadows. Shadows turned into more defined and sharp shapes, multiplied into forms of people scurrying about that he couldn't see above the floor.

A voice in his head. "I wondered when you would find me," it said.

Will did not hear his own voice, but felt his mouth form the shape of words. "Same here."

There was a dripping sound that echoed down the long dank hallway and seemed to creep it's way closer to him. He got up and stepped close to the bars, and peered through them. The human shapes still scurried against the cold floor.

He pressed his head against the opening of the bars, as far as it would go. The only thing he saw was a dark hole, where the hallway would lead. No more cells, no doors or windows. As he began to turn he noticed that there was water seeping under his shoes.

All he needed at this point was a leak from some toilet (his luck it'd be the one Chilton used) dripping down into his cell as he slept.

There were a number of voices that began to swarm around in Will's head, none of them sounded like the one he was used to. There was a mixture of women and men, and they all meshed together like drones in a bee hive.

The water splashed against Wills feet, startling him. He watched its stream rise from the floor, and begin spreading itself out along the ceiling and against the walls like clinging, liquid arms. Will froze; his legs no longer worked nor could he feel them. Yet, he felt a rush of air being pushed into his lungs and he arched his back and gasped his belly filling up with more oxygen. His body was tossed to the floor, and the cell began looking like a monsoon. Will gasped against the floor; his lungs were filling with air but it felt as though something else was doing the work for him.

The water made a whirlpool above him and soon distant sounds of mechanic humming, clicking and buzzing grew very loud in his ear. He could only manage a tiny whine to come out, before the water stung his eyes and his vision became covered with a thicket of blur.

A woman's voice emerged. It was close; right above him. It was warm and alive. "Alright, open the hatch."

Will jerked in a transparent tube, filled with blue liquid that had an icy crust and slush as it melted. He opened his eyes and they were covered with sheet of glass that retracted automatically.

"Count of three," said the voice. One, two, three."

A thick rush of suction came from underneath him, as all the liquid drained out with a whoosh. There was a mask, covering his nose and mouth, an instrument made entirely of steel, supported by a coil that served to feed air to his lungs. His eyes stung from the little bit of cold liquid that did manage to get through. He shivered and goose pimples rose on his skin.

A hand covered in a thin transparent glove reached into the chamber and pulled off Will's breathing apparatus. Will felt another pair of hands on his sides, guiding him to help him sit up. The women their kept faces emotionless, actions carried in a manner well practiced.

"What time is it?", Will asked. That was a common question. Will supposed it was appropriate then, to ask it, and managed to make his voice sound tired while he did.

The brunette nurse, holding his breathing mask, barely made any reaction to his question, and answered in a slightly exasperated tone. "The year is 2360, you've just woken up from frozen sleep. you've been asleep for two years, your name is Will Graham. So how do you feel?"

Will threw a robe on with little tubes of heat that was used to raise the body temperature up.

"I'm fine," he said, and then lifted his hand to gesture towards his throat. All around him people emerged, all in various degrees of grogginess from waking, wearing only their underwear, some of them huddled in groups laughing and talking about breakfast; some with blankets wrapped around them in kind.

The brunette woman nodded.

"Grab him some water, Beth,"

Both woman were medical staff, and wore slacks and jackets that were light blue and square shaped, and their hair was wrapped in tight, chaste little buns.

Metallic tools hung on the opposite wall some of them appeared long and sharp; they were all meant for brain surgery on the spot should anything go wrong with a thawing. Will had seen at least one person have to be subjected to it. Thankfully, it was rare that it happened. Will stood beside a window looking into a deep, indigo void. The void was speckled with bright white stars and a few floating orbs; planets tinged in moonlight. Will supposed they must have been about twenty to thirty light years away from Earth at this point.

The other nurse, a short red headed woman, removed one of the tools from it's clear case, and pressed the cup shaped end of it to Will's forehead. Will took a big gulp of water from his cup, as he heard a click and felt a tiny metallic sting pierce a layer of skin; to collect data on his blood flow and brain waves at once. There were tiny beeps and blips and green lights from the device, each signaling in a numbered sequence. Testing his cognitive functions. They did this the first time he had awoken from frozen sleep, a night that to him stayed fresh in his mind.

He had collapsed on a wet parking lot, behind an apartment complex in Los Angeles. It had been the first time his body felt real- that he remembered even having a body- in a long time. He was unclothed, head down as he staggered about, saw his feet move across the ground and mud collect in between his toes and that feeling alone had overwhelmed him. He was flesh again, and every small sensation-like the feeling of his feet against wet gravel- bit into him, and sent waves throughout his body.

He'd spent a long time floating through space an anomaly. He hadn't remembered much from before he crashed through the atmosphere, and landed in his old home. Except for all those things that he couldn't bury; like fire and bright glowing red memories of violence that stayed in his mind.

"I think we'll keep him," Cathleen Pierce had said. "We could use a Dead Walker in our ranks."

Over time, Will became slightly annoyed by it the test instruments being pressed to his head. It was only because he knew he didn't need it; His brain checked out fine every time.

Nothing there out of the ordinary that a machine could detect at least. But Will moved to rub his head, out of habit.

"All fine," said Beth, a red headed nurse.

All fine. Of course.

Human instruments where for human minds.

Both of the women walked away from Will, without caring to engage in conversation. Not that he would mind very much. He preferred most days to be quiet anyway. On rare occasions when it had been still inside his head, he enjoyed listening to the low humming of the ships engine, the sound of air sliding against it's outer walls and distant, busy footsteps.

The ship had many narrow nooks and crannys inside, though it was a dark cluster of a thing.

Will walked along away from the chamber room and down the long gray corridor that would lead to living quarters, where he would spend the duration of his trip. He really did hate them, but they served their function. He heard a voice call over the intercom trailing along the coolly lit ceilings. It was a sterile voice with no inflections and was clearly patterned to sound female. It didn't come from his head.

Will rubbed his temples. He blinked, and as he did a flash of eyes entered his vision. They were like that of deep red gemstone brushed by candlelight. He acknowledged it; blinked again to cast it away.

He arrived at two large white steel doors. There was a thin blue glowing seam running down their middle, where they parted. There was a hologram white numbers on the door's surface reading "23."

Will flicked his wrist -another habit- and placed the palm of his hand against the right door. Waves of light spread out from under it, forming a glowing blue net. It indicated his palm print was being read, and the doors slid open with barely a sound.

The cabin, small and circular held all of his belongings, some old enough that he'd kept them hidden away in boxes and drawers. A few mementos here and there. Cool dim light haloed at center of the ceiling, casting down on Will as he walked inside. It's luminescence soothed him, made his body feel cool and his nerves settle, so he kept it on a low setting all the time. Furniture was minimalist, with accents of chrome table feet and handles, the table surfaces transparent and speckled with electric dots that blinked in and out, and reminded Will of his thoughts.

A large clear sheet extended from the wall, It illuminated itself with the sounds and images of channel forty-two, and a re-run broadcast of Ultimate Master of Warriors Deluxe, a fighting tournament.

Will didn't generally watch it, but he kept pretty much anything on in his room for sound. Reaching for a cup in the small Lucite cupboard, he poured some water and looked down into his cup momentarily, and let his gaze settle there. His mind again wandered back in memory, back to the one voice he had heard before waking. Will drunk deep from the cup and swallowed hard as if to cast the memory away.

Truth be told he slept in the tube to humor people; he could make them feel as though he was like them, and the wouldn't know what he was in reality.

Perhaps to make himself feel the same. He was never clear on which.

He felt tiny tremors through his body as if his skin was on the verge of giving way to something crawling underneath. It was with him everyday, and he repressed it by scratching his arms or hugging himself, or taking a hot shower. Often he wasn't sure how much he could contain. Then the sensation would crawl away from under his skin and reach the inside of his skull where it fought to break away and gave him headaches.

A light ringing sound at the door brought Will away from his thoughts, and tremors He lifted his head up sharply to look. "Who is it?," There was an edge to his voice that he didn't mean to creep in.

"Room service," a voice said. This made Will grin and forget being uncomfortable. He could tell by the voice on the other side of the doors that she was smiling. "Not hungry," he said flatly but made sure to smile as he was saying it.

"Please?," she said. "Look, you probably haven't eaten since you woke up. I know how you are. Open up I have tea!"

Will shook his head but the grin stayed on his face.

"Authorize."

At that command the doors slid open, revealing a woman with short blond hair and a rather goofy smile holding a tray of sandwiches and a pitcher of tea.

She walked in striding as the doors closed behind her. "Good morning sir."

"Morning Cathleen," Will said smiling wryly. Cathleen set the tray down and removed two cups from it, pouring the golden-green tea into each one, letting sprinkles of mint leaves slide with it.

She knew that Will didn't care much about tea but nevertheless she thought it best that he have some to help him relax. And she enjoyed his company.

She was at least an inch taller than Will, which was more noticeable when then stood close. Her hair was long enough that she had to keep it in a ponytail most of the time, and only in appearance did she look to be a few years older than him; about in her mid to late forties.

Will lifted the cup to his lips and took a feeble sip of tea. "It's nice. Minty."

Cathleen nodded in thankful gesture. "So I hear," she began with a sigh, "that you had a little trouble waking up today." She drank. "By the way, you really need to turn some more lights on in here."

Will snorted. He took another sip of tea even though he didn't want it. He made his eyebrows wrinkle so that Cathleen would see it. "Who said that? I wake up, I get dressed, you know. I do what I do like everybody else." He disregarded her remark about lights.

"Yeah, but you're having trouble with it. Ten second delay is normal for most people but it's as if you can't come out of it you go longer. Longer than normal. The nurses told me you should be fine. But I question their judgment at times...," she trailed off, noting the expression on Will's face. Was it irritation? With her? Maybe it was something else, not related to her. She knew that she often worried of what he though of her for nothing.

"You seem to be prone to these, these long wakings, and I just wanna make sure you're OK. I know the sleep can be rough, especially in the type of work we do. What we have to face every time we wake. When people seem that they don't wanna wake, they sometimes don't wake at all...it's a mechanism. I just...I'd thought I'd check on you that's all." Cathleen could feel her cheeks get hot and she felt as though she was rambling. She felt a bit silly. Perhaps she was worrying too much.

Maybe Cathleen was right about something, but Will wouldn't let her know it. He knew that he could not sleep forever even if he wanted to, but many times he did want to. Not to be dead. He'd been there already. But, what he wanted was a quiet peace. No dreams or visions whether horrific or not. He wanted a moment in time where he could cease to exist and wake up seeing the world anew.

Will looked at Cathleen, meeting her gray eyes with his own, blue and perceptive ones. Cathleen's gaze didn't flinch, knowing how much of an encapsulation they could be; of softness and childlike grace, layered with a harshness that seemed-to her at least- old, in way.

"I'm fine," Will said in measured tone, his comfort denoted with a small smile. 'It's nothing out of the ordinary. Really I'm fine."

There was a moment where neither of them spoke, silence punctuated with the clinking of plates against table. The sandwiches hadn't been touched. Will was contemplating what his words of reassurance would do. Probably not much, but at least it would keep her from asking about his welfare for a while.

"I do suppose I am a bit of a worrier," Cathleen said whimsically. "I just can't help that I worry about you."

"It's in my nature."

An announcement came overhead, noting they were landing at their destination, and Will felt the engines shift gears softly, and the floor moving over a pocket of air as the ship began it's graceful decent to soil.

"Well," Will began, a smile spreading warmly across his bearded face once more, a smile that was soon shared warmly between them.

"Don't go against your nature."

Parts of the Underworld of course connect to the underside of each realm. And you want to go there, they have cookies. I will have a chapter four, five, and six. I just need to type them out. Please allow for time and patience :3 (muah)

The beginning quote of course is from season two ep. Season two has been been very inspiring to me as I work on this.