Chapter Nine

When the Tooth Fairy strikes again, a mere three days later, Will and Hannibal are some of the first to hear about it. Price and Zeller have returned, looking rather like two boys who've been sent to the principal's office as they face the adjacent cells, avoiding eye contact with anyone but each other. Zeller sends the file on the Tooth Fairy, which is looking much fatter than it had when Will saw it last, through the transfer box with stiff ceremony. Will makes no motion to get it; he is lying on his bed with his back to Jimmy and Brian, barely registering their presence. After a moment the two decide it will be more productive to address Hannibal.

"As I'm sure you've noticed," says Brian, "we've had another visit from the Tooth Fairy."

Hannibal is just amused enough for it to be considered insulting. "I've noticed," he says. "Doctor Bloom must be getting desperate if she has you running errands in the madhouse."

"Well as much as we'd like to stay, this is a short house call," Price smiles humorlessly. "We've got two day old bodies in the lab and they aren't getting any fresher."

"I certainly won't keep you," Hannibal's tone is that of a gracious, if reserved host. "It's not my fault you're here." He regards Zeller and Price with an almost sympathetic smile. "Nor is it my fault that they are there."

"You always were the understanding type," Jimmy says, giving a gesture that is nearly a wave. Then the pair is gone, so quickly that it seems they were pushed by a repulsive force.

Will's eyes are closed. Price and Zeller's retreating footsteps seem to come from somewhere far above him, and in that murky realm of his senses he hears Hannibal asking if he is alright. He can't answer. He hasn't slept much since his therapy session and the resulting vision. All he sees in his mind's eye are the bodies of Alana and Margot, and they drive him to restlessness because he can't tell whether he is more unsettled by his hesitancy or his callous indifference. He hears Hannibal call to him again, and his head turns towards the sound, but he still isn't sure what he would say in response, or whether he can respond at all. The close connection between Hannibal and his newest nightmares is impossible to ignore, even when he is (for the most part) lucid.

For the first time since the very beginning of his second stint in the hospital, his cell seems far too small. The last time he saw even a window was when he was put in an interview room for a piece on a local news station, nearly ten months previous. He can feel Hannibal's presence on the other side of the wall, and even that seems a bit too close for his new sensitivities.

And the thought of escape crosses his mind.

Of course, breaking out has always been a possibility that Will has entertained, and he knows that Hannibal harbors the same thoughts. But it was never exactly a priority for them, at least not initially, and the feasibility of getting each other out alive was nearly hopeless, considering how tightly Chilton had locked them away. But now...now Will feels the pull of open space on his mind- being free and unmonitored would allow him to smooth out the kinks in his mental state. Later that night, he knows what will happen; it is a tactic he and Hannibal have employed in the past with measured success. In the early hours of the morning, normally around what feels like two o'clock, they begin to speak to each other. The topics they discuss are just distasteful, just intimate enough that the night guard turns the music up on his iPod and Chilton erases the audio recordings out of childish disgust. And then they are able to have a brief few moments of nearly-free speech. And tonight, Will thinks, eyeing the folder in the box on the wall with the vaguest of plans forming in his mind, they will discuss their escape.

xxxxx

"Have you completely lost your mind?"

Alana leans back against the couch, a cold smile coloring her face against her will. "I'm running out of ideas, honestly," she says. "You know it, I know it, my team knows it," she sighs heavily. "And they know it."

Margot sits down next to her, looking concerned and more than a bit upset. "You know better than anyone what they are- what Will is. How do you think this will help anything?" She shakes her head and leans a bit closer to Alana. "Why are you even telling me this?"

"I don't know," Alana's face is hard, but as she speaks there is a helpless tenderness to her words. "I wanted to run it by someone before I tried bringing it up to the FBI."

"And I'm telling you it's ridiculous," Margot says. "Letting Will leave the hospital, even if it's just to read a crime scene? They're starting to get to you." Her voice begins to take on the tinge of experience. "They want you to think they're the only option you have left."

"I know," Alana replies. There is a blank wall opposite them and she locks it in her gaze. "But Will will give me something even if he doesn't want to. He can't help himself." She turns to look at Margot, feeling a need to explain herself- to solidify her logic. "This scene… it's brutal. Nothing like anything we've ever seen. It'll get to him. He'll see something. And I'll know it." She grins again, and though it's brief, it feels nearly triumphant. "I know him."

Margot sighs. "Why do you want to drag them back out of hell, Alana? We've made something of ourselves. Beyond all the horror. Taking Will out of the hospital just pulls us into the pit again. And I don't have any intention of losing this-" she gestures at their house, quiet and warm despite their topic of conversation. "-or you."

"I have to try," Alana says flatly. "Or I'll feel like I've failed. That I didn't do enough." She can't tear her eyes away from Margot, even though she feels like right now she wants nothing more than to be alone. "I didn't save Jack. I've got to save someone."

"Those people can save themselves," Margot says. "And you save yourself. Nothing else matters."

Alana leaves a quick kiss on Margot's lips, because if she lingered any longer she wouldn't be able to face the others at the Bureau tomorrow. "Nothing will happen." She forces a smile. "And if anything does, I'll kill him." Margot nods, and for the first time she seems slightly convinced. They sit in silence, pressed against each other, and each knows the other wishes things were different- how exactly, they'll never be sure. But they are saved from the silent threat of Will Graham by the sharp, metallic sound of their home phone. Alana is the one to pick it up.

"Hello?" she says. When she hears Jimmy Price's voice on the other end her heart doubles its pace. "Yes?… What? What do you mean, they found… Oh." Unconsciously she presses her hand against the wall by the phone jack. "Yes. I get it. I get it…. I…" Despite herself she feels a vindictive hope in her chest. "...No. Of course I'm going to tell him. Bye, Jimmy."

Margot touches Alana's shoulder, frowning. "What was that about?" she asks. Alana puts her arm around her and sighs.

"Our trump card."

xxxxx