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Wandering through the halls half ridiculously happy still at her company and half beginning to worry about what exactly he'd revealed back in the room was an interesting experience. Eager to distract himself, Will posed a question he'd been contemplating since the key had disappeared back into her pocket.
"How long has that room been there? You know," he clarified with a slight blush, "like that?"
"It wasn't added strictly for your benefit, if that's what you're curious about," Magnus stated. Will's blush deepened as he had been worried about that thought exactly. Bad enough she had to do this for him, it'd be worse if she'd been planning it for years, "Although I did make a few modifications shortly after James' communique."
He considered asking about the details of those alterations. No, some things he didn't really want to know tonight.
In a feat of impeccable timing, they reached the kitchens at that moment. Saved by the refrigerator – not quite as catchy, somehow, but effective.
"What are you in the mood for?" he breezed around the preparation table centered in the kitchen, to scope out the fridge. "Sandwiches, omelets," he paused in thought for a moment before turning back towards her, "this isn't another one of those things you're ridiculously good at, is it?"
It startled a laugh from her.
"No, Will," Magnus smiled, "I think it's safe to say that cooking is not among my talents." Her smile turned wistful, "Nigel always said that as a cook, I made a good chemist. Nikola, of course, just accused me of trying to poison him," she wrinkled her nose.
"Oh, good," Will breathed in relief, before explaining himself at her look of mock-outrage, "I just meant that you won't be too distressed at my omelet skills."
"I'm sure they'll be lovely," she said, letting a hint of placation creep into her tone.
"Careful," he warned, "or I'll find some cauliflower to stuff into yours. I'm sure the Big Guy has that somewhere in here."
Magnus blinked, "How on earth?"
With a wicked smile, Will turned back to liberating eggs and cheese from the fridge, "Now what kind of man gives up all of his secrets, Magnus?"
The laugh he heard from the table softened his wickedness slightly, "Touché."
Nabbing a skillet from the wall rack, he tried lightly, "Guess that's not one of the things I blurted out like a madman, huh?" He wasn't sure it worked as a joke exactly.
Hearing Magnus slip off of the stool that she'd pulled up to the table confirmed his fear and he wasn't surprised at the touch to his elbow a beat later.
"Sorry," he muttered, setting the paring knife down, but not turning, "Not my best joke, I know."
"Will," the touch turned into a tug, prompting him to face her. He did so reluctantly, needing the tap on his chin to look up into understanding blue eyes, "I will never use what you say against you, alright? Your percipience is a marvel and the fact that you trust me with it a gift, one that I will never abuse." His eyes flickered to her shoulder, before her hand sliding over to cup his cheek drew his attention back, "Understand?"
His throat too tight to speak, he nodded and took a deep breath.
"Good," she said with a nod, before leaning over to kiss his temple, "Now, I was promised an omelet, I believe."
Will turned back to the cutting board with a grin, "Is that a hint that I'm moving too slow for you?"
"No," Magnus poked a finger in the general direction of his ribs, grinning when he curved away and winced, "My hints are much more subtle," was tossed over her shoulder as she made her way back towards her stool.
"Hm," he hummed loudly, before dropping down to say in an audible whisper, "Subtle like a mallet."
"What was that?" she asked, loudly, although Will knew perfectly well that she'd heard him by the laughter in her tone.
"I said, 'subtle' is how I'd describe it," he lied smoothly.
"Perhaps you ought to focus that cheek on those eggs," she suggested archly.
Smiling broadly, he did.
They were delicious.
"Now," Magnus swirled her fork through an escaping tendril of cheese, "how have you managed to hide this skill from us all these years?" Tracking down an elusive onion, she slid the fork between her lips with a happy sigh, "Heaven knows, I would have trapped you down here ages ago had I known."
Will smiled shyly, "A friend of mine taught me the basics – very basics – a long while back." He smiled wistfully and shifted his weight where he was standing on the other side of the table, "She said that if you could do the simple things very well, it was more impressive than doing some elaborate thing sorta well. She also mentioned," he pointed at Magnus with his fork, "not to let on, otherwise I'd find myself shackled to an oven. Clearly, she was psychic." Serenely, he ate the last bite of his own omelet.
She looked at him with a calculating air and a glint of mischief in her eye, "What else do these 'basics' cover?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?" grinning, he slipped her plate away from her and carried it with his own over to the sink. He didn't know if it was just the freedom from the unrelenting pain or not having to hide the entire mess from absolutely everyone was a contributing factor, but Will felt downright giddy. At least Magnus seemed to be taking his high spirits in stride. Rinsing the plates quickly, he added them to the dishwasher, before turning around with a satisfied spin. He found her watching him with a small smile and a speculative twist to her mouth.
"What?" he asked, only half-concerned.
"It's nice to see you this happy," she said, surprisingly. Will blinked, "and I'm wondering when you're going to crash and fall asleep on the floor."
"I don't feel tired at all," he protested.
"Hm. I know," she agreed, "and how much sleep have you gotten lately?"
"Um," Will thought back and frowned. "Not much, actually. It's been," he waved hand at his head, "hard."
"Come along," she stood and motioned for him to follow her towards the door. "My office," she answered his questioning look, "I can bring you up to date on the Sanctuary business you've been neglecting recently and when you do pass out, it will hopefully be on something soft."
He ducked his head at the gentle rebuke, frowning at the floor, "I'm sorry. I know I haven't been… well, useful at all."
"Provided it's a one-time occurrence, I think we can overlook the matter," Will looked up to Magnus waiting for him in the doorway. She raised an eyebrow, "I believe you were already sufficiently punished and then promised to remedy the situation, remember?" He blinked in confusion before he got the reference and blushed violently. Smirking, she returned to the subject at hand, "Now, are you coming?"
Nodding silently, he followed her, thinking over her condition of sorts. He couldn't actually promise that it would be one-time. What if Abby kept her promise to keep him away from everybody in the city? What if he couldn't go back to the others with all of this new information he had now? What if it got really bad and nothing worked – a long-time fear of his? Although in the last case, he guessed, they'd probably just lock him up somewhere. Will shivered.
Will came back to the present when he felt Magnus' finger trail over the center of his forehead, "Out with it."
Blinking, he looked around and realized that they'd made it to her office with him unaware. He stared at Magnus, who was well within the personal space in front of him.
"With what?" he asked, confused.
"With whatever is bringing this line back," she repeated her motion down his forehead. "What's worrying you?"
"I," he hesitated, looking back to see that she'd even managed to shut her office doors without him noticing. He started to pace. "What if it's not a one-time thing?"
"What do you mean?" her voice moved as she went to sit on the sofa and watched him pace.
"It's… I mean, Abby can be stubborn," Will finally arrived at, conversational skills somewhat deserting him.
"Do you really believe I can't handle one minor FBI agent?" she sounded amused, with a hint of insulted.
"Even then," his thoughts mapped out the options available: with Abby or not, former partners or seeking out new ones, and he stopped talking while he counted out his steps from the fireside to the edge of the coffee table and back.
"Even then?" Magnus finally prompted.
"Even then," he repeated, before trailing off again. He slowed down to a halt in front of the fire, gazing down into the flames. "What do I do?" he whispered to himself.
Will heard the sofa shift as she rose and joined him at the fireplace, "Well, I'm not comfortable with you returning to your old partners," she admitted candidly. "So I would say that your options are to let me refer you to a more reputable establishment that I know will take care of you or," she hesitated herself, until he looked over at her, curious.
"Or?" he was slightly amused at the role-reversal.
"I am always available to you, Will," she stated softly, "I hope you know that. In whatever capacity you need."
Instinctively, Will opened his mouth to decline, though gently. Something made him close it again, however, and consider. His old partners were out and, though he probably wouldn't admit it to her, that fact mainly brought a sense of relief. They had been necessary, but in the same unpleasant way as getting a cavity filled and with much the same after effect: nausea and numbness fading into pain. Magnus had been completely different. He was, mostly, unsurprised. After all, when hadn't she been completely outside of his experience and everything he needed? He could go to someone new. Will knew her well enough to know that whoever he went to now would be completely vetted by Magnus and run through more background checks than he even knew existed. It would never be like the old way again, whichever he chose… but could anyone come close to her?
In complete honesty, Will knew that this would never be easy for him and, to be fair, he would never make it easy on the other person, either. He also knew that he was good enough at body language, at giving people what they expected and wanted, that he would be able to pull some of the same tricks that he always had. Hide this bit of information, shade that fact another way, distract and derail and never let go completely. Getting away with that again would be easy and there was a comfort in that, in knowing that he could protect himself and not really have to let someone else control him.
Magnus would never let him get away with it.
Oh, he might slip a few tricks past her once and briefly, but he doubted it would last too long and he would bet even money she could make him regret it deeply. That was terrifying. Also, in a way that he didn't completely understand, intoxicating with a different sort of comfort, a kind that meant he wouldn't have to pretend and strategize. He knew he would be safe.
Frowning, he considered that statement. Trust wasn't something he just gave away. Would he ever be able to trust someone new like he did Magnus? Well, no, because despite her ability to perform miracles, Will doubted that even she could produce another her. A deep part of him had entrusted her implicitly since he was eight; it wasn't really something that could be replicated.
Though, it might be a drawback as well as a gift. They were partners, mentor-and-protégé, confidants, fearless leader and loyal second in command, and close friends. Adding another layer – what if that put too much strain on their already complex and somewhat intense relationship?
"I don't want to lose you," Will admitted aloud, presenting the conclusion of his arguments and hoping that she could follow his trail.
"You won't," Magnus replied, easily, as though she had been listening in his head and expecting the argument. "Yes, it's another facet to our relationship, but Will, remember, it is one of which I have always been aware. Not as much will change as you fear."
"Being aware and being a participant are different things though, Magnus," he argued, wanting her to fully understand the dilemma. "You have to admit that there are times when being friend and employer is a hard balance to maintain, right? Then, it would be friend and employer and… this too." He trailed off somewhat awkwardly, uncertain of the proper term.
"Difficult, yes, but we've made it work, Will. I suspect this would be easier to fit in simply because it suits only one setting where the other two will not hold sway."
"Can you be sure of that? What if this thing interferes with work in some way – like it has been recently? Or what if I pick up on something that will impact our friendship? It can't just be divided into neat boxes," Will pressed.
"We would be doing this so that it wouldn't interfere with the Sanctuary, remember? Had I taken you in hand a few weeks ago, this would not have occurred. And I hope that our friendship would be able to weather whatever you might 'pick up' about me or my life." She smiled a bit bleakly, "Surely you realize that you already know the worst bits, anyway."
Will ran a hand over his face, torn.
"Will," Magnus tugged his arm down and wrapped his hand in hers, "you don't have to decide tonight. If you want to go to someone else, that is perfectly fine. If you want to stay with me, that's fine as well. Why don't you take some time to consider it?"
He nodded, but his mind kept flickering over what he wanted and what he feared the cost of following it might be in the end.
"Come," she pulled him towards the sofa before letting go, "you've missed a most interesting case that Kate found last week."
Nodding again absently, he found his way back to where the conversation had begun: her assuming that his close-to-a-break-down was a one-time shot and him fearing the reverse.
"For Watson," he asked over the flipping sounds of her papers, "did it get better or worse over time?"
"What?" she sounded startled.
"Did he always have to do this? Did it escalate? Or was it not as bad to begin with?" Will struggled to keep the entreaty out of his voice along with the real questions he was trying not to ask. Will this get worse? Will I go crazy? Then what will you do with me?
"Oh, Will." From the pained note in her voice, he could guess that he didn't manage as well as he would have liked. Or that she just knew him far too well.
"I just…" he fell silent, turning back to stare at the fire again. Closing his eyes, he tried to push himself back to where he was in the kitchen. Instead, he just felt cold.
Then she was there again, blanket settling over his shoulders in that psychic sense that could be so annoyingly wonderful, leading him to the sofa where he remembered just in time not to sit down.
"It's alright," she said softly, pushing him downwards. "Sit sideways, here. See?" With some tugging and a bit of wincing, she leaned him against the arm of the couch, somehow not pressing against anything sore. Papers rustling pulled him back from the heavy bleakness and the sound was followed by Magnus' arms rearranging him again as she took the place of the sofa's arm, coaxing him to slide down a bit more to rest his head in her lap. Exhaustion poured over him thickly, but he clung to awareness, hoping that she'd answer his questions – both the ones he said and the ones he didn't. Just when he thought that maybe he should give up, she settled completely and began to comb through his hair as she started to talk.
"James approached it differently, I believe. Instead of waiting until the breaking point, he intervened as soon as any symptoms presented themselves." Magnus paused a moment in thought, "You could view it as a steady burn, instead of a sudden brush fire. In any case, his files indicate that his control improved over the years as his abilities leveled out and he developed ways of managing the influx through meditation and thought exercises. Which all goes to say," she moved to run the back of her fingers over his cheek, "that you will be fine, Will. You're every bit as capable as James, I know."
"What if," he said, indistinctly through the sleep haze, "I go crazy again? What if nothing works?"
"You didn't 'go crazy,' Will," she sighed, lowering her voice still further, "The staff treating you had no idea what they were dealing with and, I swear," he could hear her softly mutter in dark tones, "they reveled in their ignorance, instead of seeking out another opinion. They exacerbated the problem. You would never have gone so far on your own." Perhaps sensing that he was unconvincable in his moody, tired state, she moved on, "In any case, I will never give up on you, Will. I promise. Surely you know that by now?"
Sleepily, he nodded. That sounded right, like Magnus, never willing to let anything go, even if it was hurting her. Which might make her promise a bad thing, but he felt lighter with it and decided that maybe he could wait until the morning to not need it any more. That seemed like it could make sense.
"Good," Magnus said, in response to something he'd forgotten, "Now go to sleep, Will. I'll be here in the morning."
That was the last thing he heard as the waves pulled him under peacefully for the first time in a long, long while.
A/N: And it's done! Mostly. I kinda feel like there might be more stories in this 'verse. I'll see what the Will-muse suckers me into in the future. He's so very annoying that way.
In any case, a million thanks to you reviewers! For sticking with this story and not asking me if I recently introduced my head to a heavy object at speed. It's greatly appreciated and you're amazing!