Will pulled into the junkyard as directed and put the truck in park. He climbed from the truck and took the screwdriver that had been given to him to remove the license plates. With them removed and shoved, with the screwdriver, into another car that had its roof smashed in, Will shoved his hands into his coat pockets and made his way out to the road.
He was a couple of miles outside of town, but he hadn't been on a walk in a long while. The air was finally starting to get warmer with a hint of spring on the breeze and Will took off down the road, enjoying the dull sunlight from behind grey clouds.
Will had hoped that the walk would help clear his head. Help him find a way to shove out all of the voices that were continuously shouting for his attention. Voices that were beginning to call others forward. Voices from the past that Will had long since forgotten and others that had finally stopped haunting him. It was starting to give him a headache and made his stomach churn and he finally decided that he needed to let them have a voice once and for all or they would never leave him alone.
"I miss you dad," a happy voice said from a blue eyed, dark haired girl in a summer dress with dirty knees. "You don't talk to me anymore."
"Not now, Abigail," Will said with a sigh. "Please."
Abigail skipped after him through the melting snow, feet bare against the black top. "I'm glad you have Walter now, but I still exist too, you know."
"Abby, later. I promise I'll give you time."
The girl pouted, but slowly morphed in a swirling cloud of smoke into a woman that Will had thought had left him for good and he felt a little lightness in his chest at the sight of her dark hair and red leather jacket.
"You're being a little unstable, Will," Beverly said with that sideways open mouthed smile, her tongue to the back of her teeth, that she liked to use. She shoved her hands into her coat pockets and kept up with Will's pace. "I should warn you to make sure you check your elbow when you get home." Will paused for a moment, glancing down at his elbow that was still housed in his coat. He had never actually removed the jacket from himself after he had broken into the animal shelter. There had been a dull and ever present ache, but it wasn't until now that he noticed a deep and distracting pulse in the bone there. "It might need some medical attention."
"I will keep that in mind," Will said with a grateful nod, though he was more focused on his elbow now than he was on the task of clearing his head that he had attempted to start. He began walking again. "I'm glad you're back, but you're not who I need to speak to at the moment."
"Of course," Beverly stated with a sarcastic smirk to her tone. "I'm sure Jack will be more of the voice you want bellowing in your mind at the moment."
"I should get him out of the way," Will said with a small smile. "The bellowing will wear me out."
"Good luck, pretty boy," Beverly teased with her kind and bright smile before she too gave way to a smoky departure and made way for the intimidating man by the name of Jack Crawford.
"How long did you think that you could keep him a secret, Will?" Jack asked, pace strong with Will's. "How long did you think you would be able to hide him?"
"Indefinitely," Will replied softly, inhaling deeply of the air and closing his eyes for a moment while he walked. "It was wonderful. It felt like I had what you and Bella had for a moment. Why did you come and ruin it all Jack? Why did you have to stick your nose into places it didn't belong?"
"Will, what happened to you?"
Will groaned at the question. The same one that everyone always asked him. He rolled his eyes and hurried his pace a little more, wishing it would somehow leave his imagination behind him in his wake.
"You were this brilliant man with this future ahead of him. A little odd, to be sure, but amazing at what you did," Jack pressed. "Quiet, shy, respectable."
Will snorted and did his best to look down at his feet as a car passed by him on the road. He would look like a psychopath if someone found him talking to himself out loud in a very one sided conversation and he didn't need the attention.
"Jack, we both knew exactly what was in me," Will argued once the car motor had faded into the distance. "There was a reason you kept having me go to therapy. You just happened to pick the wrong therapist for you and the right one for me."
"The right one? He's screwed up, Will. There's something so very wrong about him," Jack shot back in his normal desperate pleas. "Something so very wrong about what he did to you."
"He opened my eyes, Jack. Why can no one seem to understand that?" Will pulled a hand from his pocket and rubbed at his face. "This darkness has always been part of me. Ever since I was little it was there. I pushed it down, hid it away. I don't want to do that anymore. And he makes me not afraid of it. There aren't nightmares anymore. There aren't terror sweats or me drowning myself in alcohol anymore. He's made me better. I feel whole. I finally feel like myself and I wish I could have met the man earlier in my life. It would have saved me a lot of hassle."
"You've killed people Will," Jack pointed out harshly.
"Only ever in self-defense." Will exhaled sharply, the pain in his elbow becoming a little more prominent at the angle it was in and Will let his hands drop to the sides. "And you've killed people too, Jack."
"I haven't enjoyed killing them, Will," Jack said, voice a shouted whisper as if the world could hear what Will's mind was yelling at him.
Will rolled his eyes. "Look, I'm never going to be the surrogate son you wanted or whatever you were trying to make me. I've already disappointed one father, I don't need to disappoint two. Goodbye Jack."
"I'm sorry, Will," Jack called, having fallen behind in step. Will stopped at the words and turned back around to face Jack. "About Molly. I didn't-"
"I really don't want to hear it Jack." Will turned away and started walking again. "She was still a good friend. It hurts just the same."
Will fell silent again as another car stopped beside him and he gave it a glance before continuing on his way up the street. The Nissan followed him and a window rolled down. He did his best to ignore the face of a man in his early thirties.
"You're a ways away from town," he said as he pushed the car at barely a crawl. "Do you want a ride?"
"No," Will stated with a shake of his head, catching Jack watching him curiously. "Thank you for the offer. I'd prefer to walk."
"It's another three miles," the man continued.
Will frowned. And then another two or three back to his home. It would take him an hour or two. He supposed he could attempt running it, but he was far too tired and stressed to want to make his legs move faster than they were, and he couldn't remember the last time he had to run a mile, though he recalled it took him about 11 minutes to run the mile and a half back in the police academy, but that was so very long ago now. A much younger and better in shape Will Graham. He would have to fix that if he truly planned to run with Hannibal across the globe in their new life.
"And it looks like rain."
Will gave a sigh and fixed the glasses on his nose that had slipped down, eyes looking anywhere but to the man. Will wanted to spout off the statistics of how idiotic picking up a hitchhiker was, how likely someone was to meet a murderer in their life time, but he held his tongue. The numbers really weren't that impressive, but they still held the weight that the man should have kept driving instead of offering his help to someone he didn't know. But then again, most murders were committed by people that one would know personally. That didn't change the fact that Will was the wrong person to be picking up outside of town.
His eyes met the driver's and Will stared for a moment. Father, husband. Hard worker. Not rich, not poor. Comfortable. Desk job. Maybe something in engineering. Kind. No ulterior motives other than wanting to help.
Will gave a sigh. "Alright," he muttered. He really did need to get back to Hannibal. He needed more medicine and Will didn't want to miss a dose and send Hannibal back into a fevered death. He moved to the other side of the car and climbed into the passenger's side. He pulled on his seatbelt and rested back into the seat, feeling sleep wanting to drag him down in the heat of the vehicle. "Thank you."
"Where are you coming from?" the man asked as he pulled back onto the road. "There's nothing in the direction you were coming from for the next like ten miles. You didn't walk all that way, did you?"
Will thought over the words for a moment, debating what to tell the man. "I got in a fight with my wife and she made me get out of the car." It wasn't a lie, per say. Molly had done just that to Will before. But she had come back a minute or two later, feeling guilty about the act. And it wasn't like the fight was that big of a deal. Something about dinner if Will remembered correctly. Will gave a small laugh. "I thought she would have come back."
The man gave a chuckle and a nod. "When you get home, I would suggest groveling. Happy wife, happy life and all that."
"Who was the wise guy that came up with that?" Will asked back with a smile. One he pulled from another swirling voice in his head. One of his professors at school who was constantly sarcastic and happy. One that Will had found himself attracted to in an observational sense. The man had been nothing like anyone else that Will had met before and he was an interesting study. His personality helped when Will had to be personable. It wore him out to put on the face, but it made the situation more durable.
"No kidding." The man gave another small awkward laugh in the space between them. "I haven't seen you around town. Do I know your wife?"
"We just moved in," Will replied, glancing into the rearview mirror where he could make Jack out in the back seat. Will's smile dropped at those knowing dark eyes that stared back at him.
"I see." The kind man gave a thoughtful nod. "And what happened to your arm?"
"Arm?" Will asked softly, doing his best to ignore the large man behind him that still hadn't blown away and back into his head yet. It sent an anxiety through him, as if Jack knew where they had run to. Knew exactly where Will was in this precise moment.
"Your coat is all bloody."
"Oh." Will glanced down at his arm where his coat, indeed, had some small patches of blood that were hardly noticeable, but obviously noticeable enough for the man to see. "I tripped over a rock on my way back into town. Must have scraped up my elbow when I fell."
He looked up to meet the man's face and looked over it carefully, so used to reading Hannibal's micro expressions that it was nearly a shock to see the disbelief so clearly plastered over the man's face. He knew. Will knew he did. The question was, what was the man going to do about it and what was Will going to have to do in turn? Even if Jack was in the back seat, staring at him, Will would do what needed to be done.
And the man was playing a dangerous game. He really should have let it drop, along with Will. He should have pulled over at the very edge of town and let Will out of the car. He should have forgotten having ever seen Will and let it all fade away. But instead, he kept talking, kept driving through town and Will could feel the tension mounting.
"You don't have a wedding ring."
Will chewed on his tongue for a moment, eyes out of the window, making careful calculations of where they were going so he could find his way out of the still new and strange place.
"Widowed," Will offered out in way of explanation. There was no point in lying anymore. Not when he could see their destination at the end of the street.
"You were ditching the truck in that old junk yard, weren't you?" he asked, the car turning icy despite the unbearable heat from the air vents. "The truck from the news? What were you getting from the animal shelter?"
"Medicine." Will gave a sigh and sat up a little straighter in his seat, hand reaching down for his gun, ready to pull it if needed as the car came to a stop outside of the police station.
The man gave an odd sort of blink before turning his head to meet Will's. Will glanced over, waiting for what was coming next. Waiting for the deciding moment. Waiting for the fork in the road to be taken.
"What did you need the medicine for?"
"A friend is sick," Will muttered, heart steady in his chest. Surprisingly steady for what he was about to do. Steady despite the fact that Jack Crawford had leaned forward from the back seat and had a hand tight on Will's shoulder. "He can't go to the hospital."
The man gave a small and understanding nod, before turning back to the look out the windshield. He looked incredibly calm for someone who knew the position they were in.
"You're Will Graham, aren't you?" he asked in an undisturbed voice.
"It would be better for you if you didn't know my name," Will answered softly, eyes still watching the man carefully, but there was no hostility of any kind from him and Will's earlier observation came back to him.
Kind. No ulterior motives other than wanting to help.
"It was all over the news," the man pressed on, causing Will to unlock the latch on his gun, hand ready. He inhaled deeply, waiting for the next words. Just waiting. That's all he could do. "Where's the boy?"
"My son?" Will asked curiously, his chest a little less tight at the thought of Walter. "Safe. With some friends that are taking care of him. Why?"
"The news said that Dr. Lecter kidnapped the two of you." The man once more turned to look at Will and Will quickly avoided his gaze, eyes dropping to the man's chest where Will would send the bullets. He could see the blood staining the man's shirt, turning it crimson with blooming fire lilies. "He didn't though, did he? You went with him."
"Yes." It was barely more than a whisper.
"And he's sick?"
"Yes."
"And you're helping him."
"Yes," Will repeated, licking at his lips, a nervousness filling him at a group of officers passing by the car as they entered the station. But none of them seemed to notice the two men in the car, a conversation that they could have stopped. A conversation that they could save the man from because if there was one wrong move, one wrong word, he would be dead.
"I went to medical school for a time before I changed professions. I can look over him if you would like, though I'm certain I am nowhere near as good of a doctor as he is."
Will's brows furrowed and he looked over the man suspiciously. "You are parked outside of the police station. You know what and who I am. You know who I'm with. You are more than very well aware that I have a gun ready to be aimed at your head, and you're offering to help me," Will pointed out, a little breathless. "Why in the hell would you want to help me?"
The man gave a small laugh, something nervous and unsure. "I didn't think that killers could be afraid of things," he said thoughtfully. "What do monsters have to be afraid of?" Will was silent, unsure of what to say in response as he finally met the man's face with his gaze, a kind sort of smile on his lips. "Losing someone," the man answered for Will. "You're just as afraid of losing a person as the rest of us are. And you're losing him, aren't you Will?"
"You're smarter than I pegged you as," Will muttered. "Medical school?"
"Was almost done with the course, actually," he explained with a small nod. "But I enjoyed drawing a bit more. Used to win prizes for competitions. I'm in architectural drafting and design now."
"You still haven't answered why," Will grumbled, once more feeling like sinking into his seat at another group of officers walking by the car.
"If my wife were sick and dying, I would do anything to help her," the man continued. "Despite any sins, a person that needs help should be helped. Love the sinner, not the sin, right?"
Will frowned, upset with himself for considering the idea. "And if I say yes?"
"You let me look over him and we part ways."
"Just like that?" Will asked skeptically.
The man gave a nod. "Just like that."
"You're not going to turn us in?" Will's eyes were sharp, hand tightening on the gun still at his side, still safely held in its holster. The man shook his head. "How can I trust you?"
The man gave a small shrug. "You can't."
"And why shouldn't I kill you now?"
The man shook his head with a small smile. "You're not the same kind of monster, Will. At least, I don't think you are like Dr. Lecter. You're still a monster, you just haven't let yourself go like Dr. Lecter has. You still have that light in you."
Will hissed through his teeth, mind reeling with everything that was rushing through it. Still sharp voices demanding attention and now a new person, a new face with information that could break Will. Information that would ruin them. Information that would get each of them sent to death row.
"When was the last time you slept, Will? You look like you're about to have a break down. You were up all night with him, weren't you? Making sure he was still breathing?"
"How do you know that?" Will asked softly, his free hand running through his hair.
"I had a girlfriend in college," the man explained easily, as if he were speaking with an old friend and it struck Will as odd. He shifted uncomfortably as the man continued. "She suffered from leukemia. Towards the end, there would be days she wouldn't wake up. I stayed by her bedside until she did, watching her chest rise and fall, making sure she didn't die on me."
"That's why you went into engineering," Will whispered with a small nod. "You couldn't handle losing another person."
"And you're losing a person, Will."
"He-he's doing better," Will tried to reason, but he was slowly deteriorating in his resolve to kill this man. He was so tired, so spent. He wanted to cry again, but he wouldn't let himself. All he wanted to do was let someone else take control, someone like Hannibal. Hannibal always protected him, always made sure he was strong and safe and with Hannibal gone, Will felt like he would crumble, his strength depleted if Hannibal's was. "He'll be fine."
"You don't believe that, do you?" The man's head tilted to the side. "Why did you leave his side?"
Will bit back a choked sob, making it a lump in his throat that he tried to push away with a dry swallow. He really needed to stop talking. He needed to get out of this car. He needed to go back to Hannibal. "I had to ditch the truck," Will grumbled. "To stop things like this from happening." Will motioned between the two of them. "To keep him safe. If he lives, then he will be safe."
"If?"
Will corrected with a shout. He bit at his bottom lip with a deep exhale through his nose, but the man didn't seem shakable. "Why won't you turn us in?"
"I'm not stupid. If the TV shows my wife watches are anything to go on, you won't hesitate to kill me for self-preservation. Even if my wife and the police did come after you, if I had anything to do with it, you would find a way to get rid of me. I wouldn't dare put my family at risk like that."
"You're parked outside of the police station," Will reminded coldly.
"You can turn yourself in," the man suggested. Will shook his head slowly, confused. "You won't leave him, will you?"
"No."
"Then let me help him and you. We both get something out of this. You get to keep Dr. Lecter by your side, and I get to go home to my family tonight."
"You are more than well aware that Hannibal won't change, right?" Will asked, latching the gun in his holster, and adjusting himself in his seat. "If you save him, you are dooming others to die."
"So are you."
Will blinked at the words, trying to justify them, but he couldn't come up with any other reason than the one that slipped past his lips. "I love him."
"And we can look past the sins of people we care deeply for," he agreed with a small nod. "Look, my want of self-preservation is just as strong as yours. I'm offering you help. You don't have to take it. You can leave this car and walk back home and I will go home to my family that is expecting me."
"Stop trying to make yourself sound more human," Will hissed angrily, tired. He rubbed at his burning eyes with a deep sigh. "I wasn't going to kill you."
"Yes, you were."
Will was silent for a moment before he lowered his head into one of his hands. "Please," he said, broken. Resolve dissolved completely. "Please help him."
Will stopped with a hand on the bedroom door, turning back to look at Elijah, nearly wishing he hadn't learned the man's name. Will gave a sigh.
"Don't mind anything he says," Will muttered. "He won't like you, will probably hate me for bringing you here."
"I'm sure I can handle it," Elijah assured with a small nod. "I did have to do residencies. I know people aren't their best when they're ill or having to be open around strangers."
Will gave a small nod and opened the bedroom door, stepping into the room and heading over to the bed where a body was laying, resting. Elijah followed until the foot of the bed and stopped, watching curiously at the interaction between the two men. Something so sweet and soft between them, when the world only saw the blood, guts and gore.
"Hannibal," Will whispered, fingers gently brushing at the man's hair. "Wake up, Hannibal."
The man stirred, though still looked very out of it and Elijah moved a little closer to see the feverish looking man. Weak and unable to move, something very different than the man described in books and in true crime tv shows. The lion reduced to being the mouse.
"Hello, Dr. Lecter," Elijah said, coming to stand beside Will, who looked a little nervous. Was he afraid of the killer? "My name is Eli. I'm here to check up on you." There was a sharpness to the man's odd colored eyes and Elijah looked over him in interest. The predator ever present, even in his weakened state, always on the prowl and ready to protect himself. "Will said that you had sepsis. Do you mind if I take a look?"
"Get out," Hannibal instructed in a dull tone and Elijah wondered what the voice sounded like in its full power. "Will, you-"
"Please Hannibal," Will said softly, hands resting on the killer's chest running up and down it soothingly. "I need help. You know this. I can't take care of you alone. I have no idea what I'm doing."
"I do," Hannibal argued, voice a touch stronger. "I am more than capable of walking you through-"
"Please!" Will begged, something broken in his voice as his hands clutched at the fabric of Hannibal's t-shirt. "Please let him help."
There was an agitated sigh from the doctor, but his eyes softened as he looked over Will. "Alright, beautiful boy." Will gave the killer a kiss and Elijah felt like he was intruding on something extremely private that the world wasn't meant to be privy to. "Can you go get me some water?" Elijah wasn't sure if Will caught onto the suggestion that Will leave the room, but Will gave a nod and got to his feet assuring his return before exiting the room and closing the door behind him. "Eli?" Hannibal's eyes returned to Elijah, gaze serrated and edged. "I'm not sure what you did to convince my-"
"I'm simply here to help," Elijah interrupted in as kind of a voice as he could make it. "Will looked like he was about to have a mental break."
"He's been through a lot," Hannibal murmured, slowly pushing himself up in bed and resting back against the headboard, face turning into a frown at what Elijah assumed was a wave of nausea.
"How did you convince him to run away with you?" Elijah asked curiously, moving to casually sit beside the killer, taking Will's place. That didn't go unnoticed by Hannibal who looked displeased at Elijah's presence. "After you killed his wife and everything."
"I didn't kill her. The news isn't always right and neither are official police reports." Hannibal licked at his lips and closed his eyes, head resting back against the headboard, mouth twisted in pain. "And I didn't convince him. He offered."
"You two are very honest to a stranger," Elijah pointed out. "I could probably write my own book with how much you've both let slip." Hannibal's eyes opened with a warning look. Elijah let the man look over him for a moment, coming to a conclusion that he shared.
"But you aren't going to." Elijah shook his head in answer. "Why not?" Hannibal asked, though he didn't seem too terribly interested in anything but getting more sleep.
"Will and I came to a beneficial agreement," Elijah replied. "My silence for my safety. Now, Dr. Lecter, do you mind showing me your injury?"
"Are you a doctor?" Hannibal questioned as he slowly shifted to pull his shirt up enough to expose some bandaging that Elijah glanced over. It wasn't professional in any sense of the word. It looked like something Will slapped on, doing his best to take care of the man. Being an officer, Elijah knew that Will had a basic understanding of medical care, but it was more along the lines of CPR to help as a first responder than it was to heal any type of infection. "I seem to find myself having issues with any medical help other than my own hands."
"But you trust Will to help you?" Elijah reached out and pulled at the medical tape holding the gauze to Hannibal's skin and glanced over his shoulder as the door opened and Will stepped in with a glass of water. Hannibal didn't answer the question, just took the outheld glass when Will got close enough.
"Thank you love," Hannibal said with a kind smile that Elijah guessed was only shown to Will.
"Will, have you been giving him any sort of pain killers?" Elijah asked as he finished pulling back the gauze.
"No," Will answered with a sigh. "He hasn't been awake enough to take any pills. I've barely been able to get him to eat more than a bite or two of soup."
"Would you mind getting me the medications you have been giving him and then getting some tylenol or ibuprofen?" Elijah instructed, turning on the bedside lamp to better see what he was working with. "It will make it more pleasant for him to rest if he isn't in any pain."
"Ok," Will muttered, heading for the bathroom that was off to the side.
"And can you get me a cleaning agent and some more gauze, William?"
"It's just Will," the voice from the bathroom corrected Elijah.
"You didn't answer my question," Hannibal pointed out, calling Elijah's eyes to the doctor's face that was covered lightly in sweat and eyes that were closed once more in exhaustion.
"No. Not a doctor. I dropped out of med school." Elijah could see a frown on Hannibal's lips. "Your injury. What was it from?"
"A kitchen knife," Hannibal answered, once more licking at his lips.
"Drink the water, Dr. Lecter," Elijah instructed, glancing back up as Will returned to the room. He held out several boxes that Elijah took. He made sure Hannibal was following his order before he gave Will a small smile as Will set several wrapped syringes on the bedside table. "Thank you. Bring in some soup when you bring in the painkillers, if you would."
"Alright." Will slowly turned and went for the door.
"And Will?" Elijah called after the man, watching the man stop and turn back around. "You've been doing a good job taking care of him." There was a look of relief that settled over Will's features and he nodded before leaving the room once more. Elijah turned back to Hannibal and inhaled deeply. "He's a bit odd, isn't he?" Hannibal's gaze was dark at the accusation. "This weird mashup of conflict within himself."
"He's still trying to decide who he is," Hannibal agreed, though his eyes didn't soften as he set the half-finished glass of water aside. "I can wait for him and be happy with whatever path he decides to take."
"You're different than I expected you to be, Dr. Lecter." Elijah looked at the boxes in his hands, reading over each one carefully before giving a decided nod. "He's been giving you the right things for sepsis. How long have you had your fever?"
"A day or two. I'm not sure what day we're on," Hannibal replied. "It's been a bit of a blur." He sighed, eyes sliding closed once more. "What were you expecting?"
"An unforgiving devil," Elijah said with a small smile, setting the boxes aside and reaching for the antiseptic bottle that Will had left behind with some packs of gauze. "Not a man in love." There was a small laugh from Elijah, but Hannibal didn't bother greeting it with opening his eyes. "He has been taking good care of you, just not of himself."
"He needs to sleep," Hannibal agreed, wincing as something cold was placed to his ribs, burning with its chemical makeup. "I think he slept for a few hours, but not enough. And with his wife and son..." Hannibal trailed off with a sigh, letting the sentence go. "He's been through a lot and hasn't had the time to process it yet."
"That's unhealthy." Elijah set the gauze he had used to clean the cut with aside and reached for a new pack. "I will need to look at his arm when I'm done with you."
"His arm?" Hannibal's eyes flickered open and he sat up a little more, attentive. "What happened to his arm?"
"He used his elbow to shatter a window to get your medication. His jacket sleeve has blood on it. I'm under the assumption that he hasn't taken care of it."
Hannibal hissed something in another language and looked like he was going to try to remove himself from the bed, but leaning forward was enough to send him right back to where he had been against the headboard. He groaned, teeth bared and Elijah snatched up a hand that tried to go to the wound that he had just cleaned.
"You do not get to leave this bed for at least the next day or two, Dr. Lecter. I'm sure you already know that." Elijah let Hannibal's hand go and it weakly dropped back to the bed. The man gave an upset huff, but didn't argue. "And you need to stay on those antibiotics for at least another full week if not longer."
"Where did Will find you?"
"More like I found him." Elijah placed gauze over the cut and used some medical tape to hold it in place before helping the man pull his shirt back down. "Gave him a ride back to town."
"He said yes?"
"I wasn't about to take a no," Elijah explained lightly. "When was your last round of medication?"
"He needs more in about thirty minutes," Will answered as he entered the room once more. He made his way to the bed with a bowl of steaming liquid and a pill bottle that he held out to Elijah. Elijah took it and opened the bottle, knocking several white pills into his hand before placing them into Hannibal's. Will set the bowl down on the bedside table and gave a deep breath. "Can I do anything else?"
"No thank you Will," Elijah replied before Hannibal had a chance. "I will take a look over you in a moment."
"Me?" Will asked in surprise.
"Your arm needs to be taken care of. For now, why don't you go take a shower? It will help clean your arm and help you relax. You're strung up a bit too much." Elijah gave Will a smile. "You need rest. You need to sleep just as much as Dr. Lecter does. Go shower and I'll look over your arm."
Will bit his lip nervously, eyes going to Hannibal and Elijah watched curiously as Hannibal's face once more softened as his attention fell on Will. "Go, dear boy. I'll be here when you get back. I promise," Hannibal assured. Elijah knew the tug on Will. He understood the anxiousness of leaving the man still stuck in bed. The want to be there if anything at all went wrong. "Myliu tave, kvailas berniukas. Eik pasirūpink savimi."
Elijah watched as the odd language caught Will's attention and the man nodded, heading for the bathroom after grabbing an extra set of clothes that weren't bloody.
Elijah went back to work, a hand going to Hannibal's forehead and feeling at the fever that was there. "Take those pills, Dr. Lecter. And then you need to eat some of that soup. You need more liquids in you. It would be good if we could get some orange juice or mint tea in you. Would you happen to have either?"
"Possibly the tea," was Elijah's answer.
"I will have Will make you some when he's out of the shower. For now, would you mind letting me give you your antibiotics?" Elijah asked carefully. He watched the immediate dislike settle into Hannibal's features, but eventually the man nodded his permission. "Take those pills, Dr. Lecter. I will not ask again. There are other ways to make you take them and I know you are more than aware of what they are and how unpleasant they can be."
With a deep and pained sigh, Hannibal did as instructed before taking the bowl of soup from Elijah's hand, bringing a shaky spoonful to his mouth. Elijah opened up the first box and carefully read the directions before mixing the two items in his hands.
"Continue to eat, Dr. Lecter," he instructed, pulling one of the wrapped syringes to him and getting it ready with the appropriate dosage. "I want at least half of that bowl gone before you go back to sleep." Hannibal grumbled something, but Elijah didn't put much thought to it. He placed the needle carefully aside, before taking the closer of Hannibal's arms, glancing over the dark bruising that was there from how many times the man had been poked, but all of the needle marks seemed to have hit their marks as they were intended, hinting that Will knew more about medical practices than Elijah thought he did. "Is Will trained medically?" he asked, eyes still locked on the markings in Hannibal's arm.
"Nothing more than basic training from the police academy. Why?" Hannibal asked back, soup being set on the bedside table to allow more room to Elijah to work.
"He's hit your vein dead on every time."
There was a small chuckle from Hannibal at the words and Elijah looked up to find a fond kind of smile on the killer's lips. "I didn't believe him," Hannibal whispered tiredly. "Drugs in his youth."
Elijah gave a sound of acknowledgement as he reached for another pack of gauze to cover in antiseptic and cleaned at Hannibal's abused arm, then cleaned a little lower than where Will had previously been marking the skin. He took the syringe back up and easily slid the needle into Hannibal's arm.
The bathroom door opened and a wet heat filled the room, letting Will exit the bathroom, a towel drying his hair. Elijah looked over the man carefully, noting his freshly shaved face, no stubble left of the beard that had been there making the man's face look much younger. And when the towel was tossed into an overflowing hamper, Elijah could tell that a good length of the curls had been removed, chopped off, nicely framing his face rather than the nearly homeless look Will had been sporting earlier.
"Will, do you mind making some tea? Mint is preferable if you have any." Elijah asked and Will gave a small nod.
"Brangus berniuk," Hannibal called to Will and Will stepped closer to the bed, making Elijah curious if Will understood what was being said to him or not. Elijah got to his feet, moving out of the way for Will to take a seat on the side of the bed. "You cut your hair," Hannibal muttered, a trembling hand reaching out to stroke at the damp curls. Once again, Elijah had an overwhelming feeling of being out of place, witnessing something that he shouldn't have been able to see. "You look so young, darling boy. You make me a little jealous."
"You?" Will asked with a small smile.
Elijah stared, feeling as if he had been shut out of the world. That he had effectively been erased from existence. That the absolute only thing that was alive and drawing breath in the entirety of the universe were these two men. These monsters.
"I couldn't make you jealous," Will pressed on with a small laugh. "You're too perfect."
"Pabučiuok mane prieš išvykdamas." Hannibal's voice was demanding in a light sense, playful almost, the hand in Will's hair tugging on it softly. Will must have either understood or gotten the hint of what Hannibal was wanting, because he leaned over and kissed Hannibal. Something deep. Something that made Elijah shift awkwardly. He was not meant to be here to see this. "Return to me soon, clever boy."
Will rose from the bed, with a heat in his cheeks and moved past Elijah to exit the room. Elijah took the spot on the bed back and got the next medication ready. He didn't say anything, but he could sense Hannibal's eyes on him, something tight, almost as if they were daring Elijah to make a comment.
He took Hannibal's arm and administered the next dose in silence. He tossed the second syringe aside and grabbed the bowl of soup, holding it out to Hannibal who took it.
"Eat some more and I'll give you the rest," Elijah instructed, as his hands moved to open the next box. "He really has been doing a good job. I would keep cleaning it once a day. It doesn't look deep enough to need stitches. Keep taking your antibiotics, again, for at least the next week. Stay in bed for the next two or three days, though I would recommend a shower tomorrow while Will is changing your bandaging." Elijah finally met Hannibal's eyes, seeing something dark swirling there, not liking the orders that Elijah was giving him. "And let Will help you, Dr. Lecter. You're in no position to care for yourself."
There was a low growl of dislike from the killer, but Elijah didn't let the emotion of discomfort slip over his face. He simply took the half-finished bowl of soup from the man's hands and went back to giving Hannibal his medicine.
"And please let him sleep. Force him into bed if you must. He needs to recover as well," Elijah continued, moving onto the final packaged needle. "Especially if his mind is as fragile as what Tattlecrimes suggests." He could feel the glare from the killer on him and he gave a small knowing smile. "I take it that you do not approve of the platform."
"I do not approve of the unjust speculations that the author pushes onto my fiancé."
Elijah paused, looking up, last box half open in his hands. "Fiancé?" Elijah found himself asking, glancing towards the empty doorway. His attention went back to Hannibal who looked to be wearing a smile that Elijah couldn't exactly place. "His wife just died."
"They have been separated for nearly half a year," Hannibal explained into the open. Elijah wasn't exactly sure why he was given more information, but he wasn't about to tell Hannibal the Cannibal to stop speaking. He didn't want to be anywhere on the man's bad side. "It was just a matter of the legality of their marriage being in the way."
"But you didn't kill her?" Elijah asked, still paused in his work. He watched Hannibal shake his head. "Did Will kill her?"
"He wouldn't so much as say a cross word to the woman."
"I find that difficult to believe." The words were muttered under Elijah's breath as he thought over the man that had been in the car with him, but he could tell Hannibal heard him from the way that Hannibal hissed sharply as if Elijah were a dog that had stepped out of line. "Who did kill her?"
"I don't think it matters much." Hannibal's voice was low, anger in it, though he stayed restrained and Elijah was curious if he was always this controlled or if the illness had made him slip at all. It was almost a shame that Elijah wouldn't be able to see the man at his full strength. "The matter is between that man and God now."
Elijah went back to his work, mixing the drugs and filling up the syringe. Elijah glanced up as Will entered the room again, placing a mug with the tag of a tea bag hanging from the rim onto the bedside table.
"Last thing, Will," Elijah said as he pushed the needle into Hannibal's arm. "Please get an icepack if you would." Without a word, Will left the room once more and Elijah pulled the needle free, quickly grabbing the antiseptic gauze and wiping at the area. He carefully packaged the needles back up as best he could, unsure where exactly to throw the items away. "Please drink that, Dr. Lecter. The whole thing if you can. You're dehydrated, I'm sure. Have the painkillers kicked in?"
Hannibal gave a nod as he reached for the mug without a fight, though there was a sense of dislike in the air at still being told what to do.
"Good. I would like them to be added to your schedule of antibiotics." Elijah got to his feet as Will entered the room once more. "Thank you Will." He held out his hand and took the inactivated ice pack. "Your side of the bed, please. Sit."
Will's face frowned slightly, but he did as he was asked, sitting beside Hannibal, back against the headboard as well. Elijah did his best not to let his eyes linger as Will's free hand took Hannibal's, fingers intertwining. Elijah sat down and reached out, picking up Will's arm, looking over the man's elbow. It was bruised and there were several deep nicks in the skin from the glass that had cut through his jacket.
Elijah got from the bed and fetched a new gauze and the antiseptic, wetting the gauze as he moved back around the bed. He sat once more, taking Will's arm and gently cleaning at it. Will inhaled sharply through his teeth at the burn, something that Hannibal hadn't seemed to put much effort into.
"I don't think you broke it," Elijah muttered, looking carefully over the cuts that were there. "And you don't need stitches, but I would like you to ice it and take some painkillers too. You're going to be bruised for a while."
"Alright," Will said through gritted teeth.
"All in all, you're lucky it wasn't worse."
"That seems to be the case as of late."
Elijah gave a smile, but didn't dare laugh at the joke, unsure of Hannibal would take it. Elijah set everything aside and got to his feet, fetching the bottle of medicine and giving Will several pills that the man took dry. He then activated the ice pack and Will took it, placing it to his elbow with a grimace. "Will, make sure you give Hannibal more painkillers when you give him his next round of medicine. He needs to keep taking these every four hours, which I assume is what you've been doing."
"Yes. Every four hours," Will agreed, stretching out his now free arm.
"Perfect," Elijah answered with a nod, folding his arms over his chest. "Make sure that you keep giving them to him until at least next Saturday, though I would suggest maybe a day or two longer than that if you have enough to last him."
"I will," the man said with a determined nod.
"Make sure he finishes that tea before he goes back to sleep and then have him shower tomorrow. Help him. He'll be weak on his legs." Another nod was Elijah's answer. "Keep him hydrated and make sure he eats every few hours. Maybe just keep everything on the same schedule as the antibiotics."
"I can do that."
"Now, as for you Will," Elijah continued, making the man tilt his head in question. "I want you to sleep. Sleep until you can't anymore and then keep sleeping. Do I make myself clear?" Will gave a small nod. "You will not be able to take care of Dr. Lecter or yourself if you do not rest. Your body will start to shut down if you aren't careful. Dr. Lecter, you do everything in your power to keep this man in bed and asleep. The only things he should be getting up for are to use the bathroom, eat and to give you your medicine until he is rested. Other than that, I believe that you two should be fine."
"Just like that?" Will asked carefully, pulling their conversation from in front of the police station to the forefront of Elijah's mind.
Elijah gave a firm and assuring nod. "Just like that." He glanced between the two men once more with a deep breath. "I can show myself out."
"No," Will said quickly, getting from the bed, ignoring the way Hannibal's eyes stayed on the man hungrily. "I'll walk you out." Elijah went for the door to the bedroom and Will followed closely behind him up the hallway and to the front door. Elijah reached for the front door, but stopped when Will spoke once more. "I..." Elijah turned to see Will with a nervous hand shaking out his hair, eyes down. The man had only met Elijah's eyes maybe twice since they had started speaking and Elijah wondered what bothered the man enough to put that much effort in keeping his eyes anywhere else in the room. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," Elijah replied with a tip of his head. "Just keep up your side of the deal."
"We won't come after you," Will assured.
"We won't or you won't?" Elijah clarified.
"We won't. You weren't rude and you helped both of us. As much as Hannibal might dislike you and me for bringing you here, you are safe. He doesn't have a reason to want you dead. Not unless you break your side of the deal."
"I will take this to the grave."
And Will watched, watched as the stranger left out the front door. Watched through the small window beside the door as the man got into his car and drove away and Will hoped that was the last he knew of Elijah.
"How do you continue to get so lucky?" Jack's voice asked from behind him and Will closed his eyes. The man wouldn't leave. He couldn't get Jack to disappear as if he were a spirit with unfinished business. "What do you do to ensure that you get away with everything?"
"I don't get away with everything," Will shot back sharply. "Go away Jack."
"He will tell someone."
"No, he won't." Will shoved his hands into his pockets and made his way into the kitchen to clean it. He put away the tea box and threw away the empty can of soup before heading to the sink to add the used dishes to the half full dishwasher. "He gave his word."
"You can't trust him, Will," Jack said, leaning against the counter beside the sink. "You can't trust anyone anymore. You've made sure of that."
Will closed the dishwasher with a slam, hands going to his head. "What is it you want Jack? What will make you go away?"
"You accepting my apology," was Jack's response.
Will frowned. "No. You took her from me." Will dried his hands on a towel and then got himself a glass of water, his mouth feeling dry.
"She wasn't yours. You didn't even want her."
"You took her from Walter, then," Will shot back, downing the glass of water before refilling it. "A boy who needed his mother, who watched her die, held her lifeless body." Will sighed, the water forgotten on the counter. "Go away Jack."
"I'm sorry."
"No, you're not! You knew what each one of them meant to me!" Will shouted, knees giving out under him. He lowered himself to the ground. "You knew exactly what you were doing, what you were trying to take from me and maybe I am fucked up that I'm glad it was Molly over Hannibal, but that doesn't change the fact that she was someone in my life that meant something to me."
"You're right. I should have thought about it more."
Will frowned. That wasn't Jack. Will knew better. Jack just didn't admit that someone was right, let alone Will. How long had Jack fought Will about Hannibal being the ripper? How long had Jack ignored Will's breaking in favor of getting what he wanted? Jack was just as poisonous as Hannibal, but Will didn't want to drink from this cup, so his mind was changing the FBI agent. His mind twisting the man to make him more palatable.
"I shouldn't have taken the shot when I knew there was cross fire."
Will pulled his knees to his chest and hid his face in his knees, hoping that it would somehow make Jack disappear. Out of sight, out of mind. Hopefully. But when Will finally had the courage to look up, he found the tall, broad shouldered man still standing there, eyes on Will.
"I'm incredibly sorry Will."
"I know," Will whispered, lowering his head back to his knees. "I know you are, but I'm not ready to forgive you just yet. Please leave me alone." There wasn't an answer and Will chanced another look to find himself finally alone. He pushed himself to his feet and rubbed tiredly at his eyes. His head wasn't silent by any means, but at least this one voice was gone. He would have to deal with the rest of them later.
He found himself back in the master bedroom and closed the door behind him. He went to the windows and made sure the curtains were each pulled tightly closed, blocking out the still midmorning light. He turned back to the bed that was lit with a single lamp. Hannibal had placed his tea back on the bedside table and was once more asleep and Will moved over to check that it had been finished.
Finding that it had and his curiosity had been satisfied, Will pulled his shirt over his head and pulled off his pants, tossing them aside for a future Will, before he climbed into bed beside Hannibal, letting the lamp cast lazy shadows around the room.
"You were shouting," Hannibal whispered, moving closer to Will and effectively trapping the empath to the bed with a heavy arm draped across Will's middle. Hannibal's face hid into Will's neck and Will sighed into the warmth that Hannibal's body brought him. "Was it Eli?"
"No," Will answered in a voice just as soft as Hannibal's. "I-I was dealing with Jack. He didn't want to go away. In-In-In my head."
"Close your eyes, Will," Hannibal instructed in a worn out voice. Will licked at his lips and did as he was instructed. "Wade into the quiet of the stream. Let the voices be washed away by the current." Will inhaled deeply, doing his best to picture the stream by his farm in Wolf Trap. All of the dogs he had saved over the years racing through the mud on the banks, the pull of the water against his legs as he readied his pole. "Very good, Will." His breathing must have slowed to the point of noticeability. "Relax into the drag of the water. Feel the voices being pulled away from you. You're safe. Your mind is a safe place for you."
"Don't stop talking, Hannibal," Will whispered, body feeling heavy against the mattress. He let the plushness of it pull him down, let the strain in his muscles wash away, leaving him aching and tired. "I want your voice in my head."
"Darling boy." Will sighed audibly as a kiss was pressed into his throat. "You can pick and choose which voices you would like. It's your head. Reel me back in if I've gotten too far away from you."
Walter pulled the slobbery ball from Applesauce's jaw and tossed it again as far as he could, watching as the dog raced after the bouncing ball. He wiped his hand on his pants and glanced down as Morgan laughed again. Every time Applesauce would race away, Morgan giggled, just proving how young the boy really was despite the large words that he liked to use.
"Why do you laugh so much?" Walter grumbled, annoyance settling into his body as he watched the dog finally track down the ball.
"I think the way her ears flop is funny," Morgan answered, smile still on his face. There was a silence that fell over them as Applesauce ran back, avoiding Walter as he tried to reach for the ball. "Do you think your dad is coming back?"
Walter froze in his chase after the dog and slowly turned back to the boy. "Of course he is," Walter replied sharply. "Why wouldn't he?"
"My mom was talking with-"
"Look." Walter straightened up and saw the kid take a small step back. "I don't give a fly fuck about what your moms say about my dad. He wouldn't abandon me here."
"How do you know?" Morgan's head tilted to the side and he reached down to pet at Applesauce who was nudging at the boy's hand.
"I-I-" Walter gave an exasperated sigh. "I just do, ok?!"
"Alright."
"Damn it, kid," Walter grumbled, lowering himself onto the ground that was cold and wet with melting snow, spring starting to finally show up. He lowered his head into his hands, ignoring the way the dog's cold nose pressed against his hands, then into his arms and back as it rounded him in concern. "Why are you so difficult? Why do you ask all of these horrible questions?"
"I-I'm sorry," Morgan stuttered out. "I didn't mean to-"
"Shut up, kid," Walter ordered, looking up from his hands. "Stop talking, will ya? It's getting on my nerves."
He watched as the kid gave a small nod, but didn't at all seem hurt by the words, much to Walter's dislike. It wasn't fair. Someone else should have to suffer just like him. Someone needed to feel his pain, to understand. No. Not understand. Just be inflicted with it for a moment so that Walter's head could clear. He didn't care if no one understood. He didn't need to be seen, had never been seen by anyone other than Will.
Will had been gentle with his sight, seeming just as uncomfortable about it as Walter had been. But that's not what Walter wanted. Not right now, maybe not ever again. He didn't want to have eyes on him. He just wanted people to feel what was inflicting his body and mind.
After what felt like a thousand years of watching, through fingers, the boy playing fetch with the dog, Walter found the silence smothering and he couldn't take it anymore. Getting what he wanted had never left such a bitter taste in his mouth.
"Why are you so quiet, kid?" Walter grumbled out.
Morgan didn't turn to face him, just threw the ball once more with a weak arm. Will had taught Walter to throw and it occurred to him that this kid had never had the same existence. No father to teach him fatherly things. Nothing to do with fishing, fixing cars, or sports. No one to watch baseball with. No one to rake leaves with. No one to get secret ice cream with and not tell mom about it.
"You told me to be quiet," Morgan said with a shrug, giving a giggle when Applesauce raced into him, knocking him back and to the ground before dropping the ball into the kid's lap and then licking at the child's face.
"You don't have to do everything you're told, you know." Walter gave a small huff of air, pushing his hair from his face. "You throw like a girl." That got Morgan to turn around with raised eyebrows as if he had never heard the term before.
"And that's bad?" he asked, pushing himself up onto his knees with the ball held tightly in his hand. Walter gave a nod. "I am smaller than you, Wally. And there's nothing wrong with a girl being good at sports."
"I wasn't saying you were good."
"I inferred as much." He didn't seem to take the insult to heart, but he simply threw the ball once more, disregarding Walter completely.
"I'm sorry," Walter finally said, calling Morgan's shockingly blue eyes to his face. "I really didn't mean to snap at you. I just..."
"It's ok," Morgan assured, voice light in a laugh as the dog returned and nuzzled into the boy's chest. "You're going through something hard at the moment. I'm not here to judge if that makes you upset or not. Your emotions are yours to feel and own."
Myliu tave, kvailas berniukas. Eik pasirūpink savimi: I love you, stupid boy. Go take care of yourself.
Brangus berniuk: Dear boy.
Pabučiuok mane prieš išvykdamas: Kiss me before you leave.
Sorry for posting the same chapter twice! It has been fixed. Haha. Thanks for the patience. If you want an update as to where my mind is...
It has been an insanely insane week and I am about to tell ya'll all about it because I don't have an appointment with my therapist until next week. XD.
So... I work several jobs. This week at my retail job I got made a manager, which is great. More money and whatnot, but also more responsibility. Been working super long hours and training and all that good jazz. It all kinda started on a day where I looked at the wrong schedule and showed up 4 hours early to my shift on the third of July, which is one of the days that was celebrating Independence day because I live in a super religious state and God forbid we have a BBQ and shoot of fire works on a Sunday! Lord. Anyways. Had to battle parade traffic and then showed up and just decided that I lived too far away to battle that insane show again and would just work the extra hours. No biggie. Good paycheck.
That night I was trained on closing registers and we had to count the tills like 5 times over. First the MOD counts the till and then I did to be trained on the paper work and how to fill it out all and then we had a new girl starting, same girl I will mention later, who needed to be trained on how to count the till as well. So, till got counted multiple times, had a giant deposit, and that was that.
Had store set because we had a bunch of shipment of new things show up. We have four major sales starting this week, and then the regional, national and some other head manager-ceo thing are showing up today to do a giant store inspection after literally three days of holiday because my state can't make up it's mind on what day to celebrate.
Ok! So... go to about two days later, us three same peeps are working the opening shift. My MOD takes me to the bank to do deposits. Cool. Bank screws something up on the deposit that we counted 500 billion times and says we're missing money. I know we're not missing money and they've lost it. They tell us they'll look for it, because the store was opening and we had to get back and they would call us. Get back to the store and we're supposed to be deep cleaning this bitch to high heaven because of all the important people coming around. Luckily we were slow. So, cleaning, cleaning, cleaning. MOD goes on her break, my other co-worker, sweetest old lady ever, says she's feeling dizzy and needs to sit down. Fine. We're slow, go sit down. I check on her several times to make sure she's ok. Her hands are shaking but she says she's alright. She in the back by the dressing rooms. Go to the front counter to grab the mess of hangers there from a giant purchase to take them to the back and organize. Was gone for literally like 10 seconds. Come back and she's having a full on seizure. Luckily, my MOD didn't leave the store. Grabbed her, called 911. Paramedics show up, we close the store, people are pissed off at us for closing the store. They can all screw themselves honestly.
They get my coworker stable, after both my MOD and I had to perform CPR because this poor lady stopped breathing and went unresponsive. Her vitals are good, apparently she has a history of seizures that was not listed in her medical paperwork. Anywhoooo- call her emergency contact who lives like an hour away. We decide, since she's stable, to keep the store closed until she gets picked up. Medics leave, police leave, security leaves, mail dude who showed up right then and there to pick up packages, leaves empty handed.
People are losing their cotton pickin minds. We put a sign up saying that due to medical emergencies, we're closed for the next one to two hours. We'll open the store back up at about this time. I can not believe how many people do not give a flying shit as to whether or not someone has had multiple seizures and has stopped breathing. All they did was bitch and complain. More on that in a bit.
MOD has to call people and make incident reports. I'm sitting with poor new girl just to make sure she's ok, getting her water and whatnot. Hands start shaking again and I pull the water from her, grab the phone once more, yell for my MOD and the poor girl is having another fit, these ones lasting longer. It wasn't even like 15 minutes later.
She went unresponsive and stopped breathing again, multiple times. MOD and I both had to do CPR again while trying to unlock doors for the medics who came back, security who freaking wanted their own incident report and could not see the phone in my hand and that I was speaking to dispatch, and then our poor mail guy showed up again to get the mail and had to be turned away once more.
Medics show up and take her to the hospital this time, all while customers are yelling at us through the gate because we aren't open. You're literally watching a poor old lady being rolled out on a stretcher and you are upset because you can't go shopping. Get out of my store!
So, MOD is filling out paper work, I'm dealing with giving medics, police and security coworker's info and whatnot was going on. People still yelling at the gate to be let in. The bank problem feel like 3 days ago now. No cleaning done. 12 giant boxes of shipment to get out on the floor before head honchos show up.
MOD is a dear and decides to open the store back up even though we could have closed it the rest of the day. But that she wants like an hour to chill out and calm down and finish paper work. We both suffer from super high anxiety and depression and all sorts of whatnot, mixed with stress and adrenaline. We're both tired and shaking and ready to go home.
One lady during this whole thing is just being a pain. She's been there for over an hour since this started and keeps coming to the gate to yell at us, telling us about how she had to drive all the way from this other city that is legit like 10 minutes away from our store (she says it's an hour away) and how she has a foot condition that won't let her stand for long periods of time. Lady, you're in a mall, there are benches everywhere and a food court. Go sit sown.
Finally she left and then we kept getting phone calls asking when the store will be open, which is fine. You know, we can answer that, that's fine, even though there's a giant super big sign on the door saying that we'll be open in like 2 hours!
Same lady ended up calling and yelled at my MOD through the phone and was telling my MOD that she was a piece of shit and had shitty customer service and my MOD said the greatest thing ever. She said, and I'll leave the store's names out, I quote: "I don't care about my customer service, especially when I am more concerned over an employee having multiple seizures and needing to be taken to the hospital. This store is open, that store is open. You can go to one of them. Have a good day." And hung up. Both stores are legit like 10 minutes from ours too. Not a long drive.
Waited for the closing shift people to show up before we opened the store again and then I had a meeting for my other job right after that, so that was fun. And then the next day I had an early shift to get all of that shipment out and on the floor and today is the day the head people are showing up. So I need to get dressed for that. Gonna curl my hair, which is a once in a blue moon thing. XD.
MY COWORKER IS OK! She is stable, stayed over night in the hospital and will be coming back to work next week. So, very happy about that!
People keep calling me a hero, but I'm not really... I don't feel like it. I'm just lucky I grew up in a small hick town where the Four H Clover Farm people went around and certified everyone in how to call 911 and do CPR. Mostly just shaken up about it and happy that she's doing alright.
And you don't even want me to start on my neighbor that plays the bass at night. Started at 10-now. Called cops multiple times during the night. Roommate when and yelled at him at like 7 am and then the guy turned the music up louder. Currently other people yelling at the man outside of my window. Fun. So hope that get's figured out soon.
Anyways. I hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Please leave a kudos or comment if you enjoyed the chapter. And I hope you liked the character I introduced. I know it doesn't seem like it right now, but he is important to very very future plot. Muhahahha. Love you all. Hope you have a good rest of your week!