Authors Note: I'm really enjoying writing this. I hope no-one is too OOC. I miss Sanctuary muchly at the moment so I'm making the most of my time off work and getting some writing out. Let me know what you think. :)

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Chapter 3: Will

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Life went on. No really, it did. The only time he found to dwell on his mortality came at night when he lay awake. He found himself lifting his sleeve to look at the puncture wounds as if they would tell him what would happen. They remained unchanged, they bled occasionally when he had a shower but mostly he didn't notice them at all. He had been sure to wear long sleeves in company. He knew he should talk to someone, but the selfish part of him hoped he died before he had to explain that at any time he could drop dead. He didn't want their pity; he didn't want to hear someone else say that they couldn't do anything to save him. It would make things so much worse. Sometimes he found himself worrying about the "painful" part, but tried his hardest not to imagine what kind of pain it would be.

Will had bumped into Magnus the night before and before he could stop himself he had blurted out his thoughts. He tried to tell himself it was probably the venom working through his system that made him tell her those things. But really it was more like the fear of pain and death was beginning to set in and some of the things in his head he felt like he should say aloud, he doesn't want to - literally - die without saying so many of the things he holds inside normally.

He kicked the covers off and put some socks on. Time for a wander, there was no point lying in bed lost in thoughts of death. He shut the door with a quiet snick and headed down the hall, not really worrying about where he ended up.

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"Will?" He turned to find the Big Guy back down the corridor the way he had just come.

"Hey, Biggie" he smiled and smoothed down his hair. "Can't sleep either?"

"Nah," he grunted.

"Want to go for a walk outside?"

"Yeah," it took Will a moment to figure out of the grunt he'd just heard was a 'yeah' or 'nah'. He carried on walking towards the elevator and Biggie followed answering for him.

For such a large person - for that's what Will had begun to think of him as - he walked rather quietly. He hadn't really thought about it before, but now in the middle of the night with a cold sweat of fear making his body tremble he thought of that. And of how Biggie had become a friend to him, and how the first time he met him he'd nearly wet himself in fright. He chuckled aloud, and Big Guy turned to look at him curiously.

"It's funny, but I was thinking about the time I first met you." Big Guy let out a bark of laughter.

"You were terrified," Will blushed

"It was that obvious?"

"Yeah," Big Guy grunted. "I think Dr. Magnus was rather amused."

They exited the front doors and a cold breeze ruffled Will's hair and he shivered. It was refreshing though, and since he'd bumped into the Big Guy he hadn't thought much of the bite. Of his death.

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He didn't know how long they had wandered around the gardens. They had walked in a comfortable silence. Will liked that - even when the Big Guy had an inkling something was wrong - he kept quiet. At this stage if someone pried into his thoughts he probably wouldn't be able to keep his mouth shut. The fear had dissipated once more, and he felt numb. Something in him wanted to see the Retta again though, and after saying goodbye to Biggie at the front door he headed to the elevator.

The Retta walked over to him and stared at him through the glass, her large green eyes looking more intense even than before.

"What have you done?" He whispered. The Retta tilted her head to the side and carried on looking at him. A wave of anger hit him and he punched the glass, hard. He swore at the sudden throbbing pain in his knuckles and cradled his hand to his chest. He took one last look at Her before turning back the way he had come.

His hand still throbbed as he reached the floor of his bedroom. He contemplated just going to bed, maybe the pain would be a good distraction... then tomorrow he would have to explain to everyone why his hand was swollen and red. He was best to find Magnus; she would get the swelling down for him. He knew where her bedroom was but more often than not he would find Magnus in her office, so he headed there first. He knocked with his good hand and felt a twinge in his injured hand as the vibration traveled through his body.

"Come in," he opened the door and gave her a sheepish grin. How was he to explain this one? Why hadn't he thought up an excuse before he came in? Instead of giving her some cock and bull story he sat down on her couch silently and left his injured hand cradled in his lap. "What is it?" She stood up, a couple of papers fluttered to the floor. She ignored them and came around to sit next to him on the couch. She gave him one quick look over and then gently took his injured hand from his lap.

"I'm sorry, Helen." She looked up to meet his eyes.

"I've been trying to figure out what is wrong with you Will, you really have been a puzzle to me these past few days. I think there is something you need to tell me." She held his gaze, and he found he couldn't look away. He took a deep breath and she gently rubbed her thumb over his wrist avoiding the swollen knuckles she soothed him.

"She bit me," it sunk in pretty quickly, as usual for Magnus. He didn't even get a chance to pull up his sleeve, she had already (painfully) dropped his injured hand so that it bumped against his knee - and her hands were on his sleeves pulling them up. She stared at the puncture wounds on his left forearm for what felt like minutes, but probably wasn't near as long.

"Oh Will," she sighed. She looked up at him and put a hand to his forehead as if checking for a temperature. "Will," she repeated.

"Do you - uh - know what will happen to me?" She shook her head sadly. "But you... know everything." Normally that would get a chuckle out of her, but he supposed she hadn't had as many days to get used to the idea.

"You need to come down to the infirmary Dr. Zimmerman," great... he was Dr. Zimmerman again - not Will. She stood up and picked up the papers that had fallen. "You should have told me sooner, maybe we could have figured this out." She didn't turn around as she spoke but as he stood she turned around and he almost walked straight into her. Blue eyes bored into his, and he could see the pain in them.

"What am I supposed to say Magnus?" He retorted, his voice probably a lot sharper than it needed to be. "Oh, by the way... The Retta bit me, so I'm going to die and yeah..." He trailed off. He was being silly and he knew it. Damn it though, didn't he have a right to be immature? This could be his last few moments on earth for all they knew! She didn't respond, just made a tired huffing noise and headed towards her door.

"Come now," she told him. He sighed again. It did feel good he supposed, telling Magnus what had happened. He didn't have such a large secret weighing him down now. And if anyone was going to figure things out, it would be her. A small bubble of hope rose to his chest for the first time since he'd been bitten. Could there be a way out? All the reading he had done was really nothing compared to the knowledge of the two and a half century old woman walking in front of him. No she may not know everything, but she would certainly know more than Will did about the Retta. He felt a small smile tugging at his lips. Was there hope after all?

TBC.