Disclaimer: The characters and concepts in this story are the property of Thomas Harris, Bryan Fuller, and their related affiliates. This is an amateur writing effort meant for entertainment purposes only.
Summary: "If space is infinite then there's tons of yous out there and tons of mes."
"I like that thought. Somewhere out there, I'm having a good time." (Rabbit Hole)
Two different Molly Fosters. Two different Will Grahams. Just two out of innumerable possibilities. AU.
Author's Notes: Apologies for the delay! I have been caught between work, a play, and reading. Sweet reading!
Speaking of reading, please enjoy yourselves with this installment!
Wild Horses
Wolf Trap, Virginia
Will expected a coyote. He maintained a safe distance from the shadow struggling in the branches but strafed around to get a better look. A moment of observation confirmed that the shadow was human. Female. Tall, long hair, colourful vocabulary. Her words for the tree were not pleasant. She slammed a palm against the torch in her hand to get it working again. "I'm not trespassing," she explained, shining the light against the ground. "A horse got loose from your neighbour's paddock."
Will wasn't listening. He couldn't listen over the ringing in his ears, the phantom tugging of branches against his scalp. There were still tufts of the woman's hair locked in a wrestling match with the tree. He had no choice but to walk forward and help detangle her.
"You haven't happened to see a horse around, have you?" her fingers combed over Will's as they set about freeing her from the branches. Up close, he could finally place her voice. Molly Foster, the veterinarian from Great Falls, was making a house call. "Thank you," she said upon liberation.
"Isn't this more of a job for animal control, Doctor?" Will had to ask.
Molly set her jaw and looked him straight in the eye. He dodged her stare. "He's a very sick horse," she replied. "The owners are worried it's eastern equine encephalitis."
"You're just trying to give him a comfortable place to die then," Will said uncomfortably, wishing she would stop looking at him.
"Formalize my diagnosis mainly. Restless wandering is a pretty good indication…I take it you haven't seen him?" Will shook his head. Molly nodded. "Thanks for your time," she said and started off into the forest again. "Shout if you see him, will you?"
He watched her disappear into the trees, allowing her guardedness, her intensity, her focus, to drain out of him before daring to turn away. Winston greeted him, staring intently at Will as if reminding him of something he had forgotten to do.
There was no going back to the house now. Will sighed. He plunged into the trees after Molly.
Marathon, Florida
Will didn't go to bars, not normally. Drinking made him sensitive. Being around people made him vulnerable. He would suck back Scotch and stare at himself through the bartender's eyes. See the pathetic wretch he had become, the lonely, sunburnt, scarred sack of flesh he was now. Will had never possessed very high self-esteem, but he had just enough to hate everything that Hannibal had made him.
Another Scotch appeared in front of him, right next to his empty glass. Will lifted his eyes from the bar to find the brunette from the beach at his side with a tumbler of whatever-he's-having at her fingertips. "Rumour had it you never leave the beach," she said by way of a greeting.
"Everybody runs out of Scotch eventually," he replied.
She smiled self-assuredly. "I'm Molly."
"I know," Will prodded the glass. "You own a shop in town."
There was a sadness in her eyes that he couldn't place then, an ache for someone lost and no delusion of them ever being found. The smile on her face was genuine though. Molly was not here to recreate the past; she was hopeful and optimistic about the future. With Will.
"You should get back to your friends now," he warned her.
"I'm not actually here with anyone."
"You're here for me," Will said flatly.
"I'm here with you," she corrected him, holding up her glass. "Cheers."
Wolf Trap, Virginia
"I don't think the horse would have come through here," Will said. The branches were far too thick for even them to pass through.
Molly finally stopped charging, though it was against her nature not to press forward. "He couldn't have gotten far," she sighed. She scanned the trees, dismissing them quickly for any sign of a staggering horse.
Her desperation piqued Will's interest. Eastern equine encephalitis was a killer. "You're looking for a dead animal," Will remarked pointedly.
"Not dead yet," Molly answered. Hands on her hips, eyes straight ahead, she looked so certain. Somewhere out there was a horse that she had decided to help. There was no knocking her off-course now.
Marathon, Florida
Molly was claiming him slowly: first with the Scotch, then with her fingers. She started inching her hands closer to him on the bar, and then gently, gingerly brushed her fingertips over his wrist bone.
Will's breath caught in his throat. "I'm no good for you," he said, sounding as confident as she looked.
She flashed him a small hint of a smile and played with the neck of her beer bottle. "I don't ever come to this bar. Ever."
"You never came to the beach before you saw me either."
"I didn't come in here because I saw you." She wasn't lying, though the pink flush on her cheeks reaffirmed her interest. "I didn't come to the beach for you either. That's two coincidences too many for me though. Not that I believe in coincidence."
Her eyes drifted towards the monitor above the bar at long last. Baseball. She eyed the score sadly, mournfully, though her smile never faded.
Will felt the stab of loss, sharp as death, in his heart, "I'm trying not to."
Wolf Trap, Virginia
The spooked gelding's body was steaming in the chilly air. He began to rear when Molly emerged from the trees. Will reached out to pull her back, but she placed a hand on his chest to protect him. "Hey, beautiful," she said pleasantly to the horse. Her hand dropped from Will's chest and stretched out towards the frightened animal.
The horse reared.
Marathon, Florida
Will paid the bill, including her Scotch. "Nice to see you again, Molly," he was being at least halfway honest too.
She tossed back the rest of her whiskey. Her hand landed on his wrist, "You too."
He didn't rebuff her immediately. Being touched reminded Will that he was still alive, still present. It wasn't until Molly pulled her hand away that he realized she wasn't looking to save him either. She stared mortality square in the face and was looking for someone with whom to share her heartbeat. Will wore impending doom in every feature; he was the best partner for the end of all things.
Wolf Trap, Virginia
Molly ripped off her coat. The cold left her breathless. She strode toward the horse with her jacket in her hands. "Hey, it's okay. It's okay," she spoke soothingly. The horse backed away from her, forelegs stomping, threatening.
Will eased his way in her wake. She was going to get stomped to death. "Don't…" he warned her.
Molly wasn't listening. Her hands moved towards the horse, offering the coat like an olive branch.
Marathon, Florida
They left at the same time, and for the first half block, Molly was never more than ten feet behind Will. He turned and looked back only once before stopping. "I'm no good for you," he told the nighttime sky.
"Only one way to find out."
Will turned back to look at her. Molly shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She hugged herself against the chill but kept one hand slightly poised towards Will.
Wolf Trap, Virginia
"Come here," Molly urged. She drew her coat up to neck height. "Come on…"
The gelding shuddered, terrified, but was no longer stomping.
Will found himself inching with her.
Marathon, Florida
She was just so direct. One look at her and Will knew exactly where the night was headed. Knew he was safe, that she was strong enough to keep the monsters at bay. Molly was a woman for whom time was static. She lived absolutely in the present, moment by moment. If he walked away, she would too, without looking back.
Wolf Trap, Virginia
The horse stayed its ground. Molly shifted closer. Her hands were shaking under the jacket, but she never stopped moving.
Marathon, Florida
Will walked slowly in her direction.
Wolf Trap, Virginia
Molly draped her jacket over the horse's head and hugged his snout, whispering sweet nothings as she did.
Will's head fell silent: the buzzing, the hum of ideas, the steady stream of feeling emanating from the startled horse and Dr. Foster. All he could hear was Molly's breathless promises, "It's okay. It's okay…"
Marathon, Florida
"Is this okay?" she asked as she reached for the bottom of his shirt.
Will drew a shaky breath. He scanned the messy interior of his trailer, fixing his gaze on the door instead of on her flushed face, her fervent stare. She would leave if he told her. They could end this.
…but there was no turning back. Time registered as a steady progression of moments. Will would have to contend with the memory of her hands, her lips, her eyes; he would have to negotiate with the perspective she'd given him. That there was no saving the either of them, not from darkness or death, but there was comfort in being held in one's final moments.
Wolf Trap, Virginia
The horse dropped to his knees only a few yards from its paddock.
Molly tore her coat from his eyes and wrapped her arms around his head. Her hands drew long strokes on his fevered neck and face.
Marathon, Florida
"Yes," Will said, guiding his shirt up from his hips. "Yes, this is okay."
Happy reading!
Additional notes:
In the book, Molly is a widow. Her first husband played baseball, which she watches when she is sad.
Also in the book, Will's abdomen is horribly scarred in his confrontation with Hannibal.
