A/N: Hey guys! I just wanted to say thanks for the support! I've never had such positivity from something I've written and in such a short amount of time! Reviews and positive ratings are what keep this particular engine running and, honestly, what makes me smile a bunch and happy to keep creating content. So if you like, rate and review! And if you have constructive help I'm always down to listen. Except maybe when it comes to the way ships work. I'm not...super interested in that so forgive me for you ship aficionados. Anyway, please enjoy chapter two!

The morning broke slow and quiet, the gentle rocking of the ship bringing Will back to the waking world smoothly and relatively painlessly. His head ached, the gentle pounding throb of too much sleep and not enough water. With a grimace, Will sat up, running a hand through messy curls with disdain at the feel of hair that needed to be washed. The ship remained stationary and he wondered how long he had been asleep. Rather than check the time, he pulled himself groggily out of bed and swayed over to the bathroom, feeling somewhat nauseated by the more stable bobbing of the boat after having been at sea for so long.

A quick glance in the mirror confirmed that he did not, in fact, want to look any further at his face with his sunken cheeks and dark shadows beneath his eyes. He sighed, turning from the mirror as a wave of incomprehensible dread drifted over him like a shroud. It settled across his shoulders as he stepped into the shower to rinse his body free of night terror sweat. He moved mechanically, trying to clear his mind of thought and breathe in time with the almost imperceptible rocking of the ship. If the ship wasn't about to start moving he was going to need to adjust quickly or risk spending however long they were frozen at sea feeling sick.

"And how can I possibly enjoy my whiskey on the rocks if I'm throwing it up?" He mumbled, stepping free of the shower and groping for his towel. He carefully avoided the mirror on his way out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist and hair dripping down the back of his neck. Will glanced out the sliding glass doors leading to the small balcony attached to his room as he dressed, wondering where exactly they were and how far they had drifted in the night. The sun had only just crested the horizon, and yet, it felt that he had been asleep for eons. He contemplated going back to sleep but a sudden audible gurgle from his stomach insisted otherwise.

He took roughly five minutes to gather himself emotionally and physically (namely, finding himself a shirt) and after ensuring he had his keycard in his back pocket, and with no further delays he pushed his door open forcefully, confidently-

"What the hell, bro?!"

And immediately regretted it.

On the floor lay a young man who had been holding at least two drinks and what appeared to be a cake of some other frosted pastry and was now, instead, dressed in it.

"I'm sorry, I didn't-,"

"Didn't think or what, man?" Will paused and sighed; while the incident was indeed unfortunate for the young man Will did not think it was entirely his fault; the hallway was big enough to accommodate at least four people walking side-by-side and judging by the hazy look in his eyes, already drunk despite the early hour. He stooped, intending to offer whatever assistance he could think to offer but the man was already pushing himself shakily to his feet. The now empty cups he left on the floor, plastic and unbroken, their contents soaking in to the red diamond-patterned carpet.

"Stupid asshole." The man muttered under his breath, weaving away from Will and heading further down the hall. Will sighed and bent to pick up the cups, intending to let someone know about the mess, and nearly bumped heads with a man he'd been loosely hoping to run into since they'd set sail.

"Oh damn it, I'm sorry Arnold I didn't see you there." Arnold laughed and Will flushed and fumbled with the empty cups in his hand.

"It's no trouble, handsome," he glanced down at the cups Will held. "Doing some early morning drinking?" Will glanced down at the mess and realized he was shaking his head before he'd even spoken.

"Not yet; I just bumped into another passenger who was carrying these drinks on my way out myself."

"Ahhh, yes, I was just following the man you're talking about; being that drunk this early I was concerned and hoping to make sure he got to his cabin safely."

"Oh, so then, you wouldn't be able," Will cleared his throat, still fumbling with the glasses in his hand. "You wouldn't happen to have time to get some food or something, right?" Arnold grinned, wolfish and wide, eyes twinkling in the fuzzy overhead lights.

"As much as I would love to join you while you imbibe what would surely be a most delicious meal, I'm afraid I have prior obligations." Will tried to ignore the clenching in his jaw and the disappointment he felt, sharper than he would have guessed, as Arnold turned him down.

"However…I believe that my schedule would allow for a dinner of some kind, liquid or solid, say, 8:30? At the one and only true dining experience aboard this somewhat water-logged vessel?"

"Uh sure, yeah that sounds great, yeah."

"Great! Well then, until later William."

"Yeah, sure, until later Arnold." The men nodded at each other, Arnold winked, and Will was left flustered and flummoxed as Arnold strode past him, following the path of the man who had created the mess Will continued to squish around on. He wasn't sure how he felt that Arnold had referred to him as William, or the emphasis he had used on his name, but he was sure that he would need a double on that drink. There was a moment, a brief and altogether inconsequential moment, where Will wondered how Arnold had learned his name since he could not remember having told the man. Arnold, however, was crew and it was not crazy to think that he had found Will's name out in some other way. Will wondered what Jack would say about his impromptu dinner date with Arnold and found himself smiling as he wandered the opposite direction, towards the elevators that would take him to the dining room area. He was certain that at least some of his colleagues would win a bet or two.

A relatively uneventful ride in the elevator, mind wandering and cups sticky in his hand, Will found himself face to face with an almost completely empty dining area. He frowned. Early though it may be, the sun was well up and normally at this time (later than his usual forays into food searching) there were at least a few families with little ones packing away fresh pancakes and orange juice.

The hairs on his arms stood on end and adrenaline rushed to his muscles as he felt his fight or flight instinct kick in. For a moment, he stood stock still and took in the entirety of the room before his eyes settled on the clock and he gasped audibly.

"It's almost noon?" He managed. He was surprised, then, that there were still bits of breakfast available, as the staff typically had breakfast promptly cleaned up in the buffet area by no later than 10 with the promise of lunch on its' way. His brow furrowed and he pulled out his watch to confirm the time and was further dismayed when it agreed with the clock on the wall.

"But I watched the sun rise…," He murmured, slowly venturing into the dining area, eyes trained on the clock as he walked towards the remaining food. His stomach churned but he knew he had to get something in there or risk feeling ill later. "I watched the sun rise, I walked out of my room…ran into that guy, saw Arnold…and came straight here. How could it be almost noon?"

"Well, sir, I was just thinking you wouldn't be stopping by!" Will snapped out of his mumbling reverie and found himself face to face with the man who'd been saving him an everything bagel each morning. With hands that were shaking a little too much, Will ran his hand over his face and rubbed his eyes until spots filled his vision.

"Yeah I must have lost track of time or something like that," his voice was lighter than he felt and more sure than he was but Frank, the man who was now politely gesturing to where his daily everything bagel was stashed underneath the buffet area, was cheerful and seemed happy and this was more calming than anything else. He did little more than nibble at the somewhat stale breakfast food before offering his impromptu staff friend a half wave and leaving towards the bar area in the center of the ship. The lunch crowd had started to filter in and they were more rowdy and awake than Will felt capable of dealing with in that moment.

The closer he got to the center of the ship the more on edge he felt, as though being cloistered in the inner bowels of the hulking vessel was somehow less safe than being outside or in his cabin. He took note of this but forged on, determine now to make that double a triple and then escape to the deck in the hopes of enjoying the calm waters. He passed others headed the same way he was going and dodged around those headed back towards the buffet area. Will was quickly and easily annoyed with the level of traffic he had thus far been avoiding by being active in the earlier parts of the morning and cursed himself for dozing off or losing time or whatever had caused him to be so late. Whatever he was feeling or experiencing seemed isolated in his own head; the rest of the cruise-goers were loud and excited, some being dragged by children towards the pool area, and others cheerfully discussing the free gifts they were being offered by the staff who were trying to compensate for the still overheated engine. Will wondered just how long they would be floating at sea and made a mental note to find someone with more information as soon as he had imbibed his lunch.

The quickly fraying FBI empath, who wanted nothing more than his quadruple and to escape to the deck with his book of crosswords or his sketchbook or literally just a towel. He needed to steady his nerves and find his center and none of that was possible will the continuous traffic that kept stepping on his toes and bumping into him. He managed to enter the bar relatively unscathed and in the blink of an eye was at the counter trying to grab the attention of the bartender. The moment she turned around he recognized her and heat rushed to his cheeks. Of all the people manning the counter why did it have to be the woman he drunkenly told about his dogs? All of his dogs, with pictures and sadness and laments about not having all of them in his bed to snuggle with and oh god she was getting that look in her eyes that said she recognized him.

"Oh! Dog guy! Dog guy I haven't seen you in a while, how are you? Still missing all your babies?" He groaned, audibly, and wished he could sink into the floor with that entire bottle of whiskey he intended to take with him. He managed to mumble something akin to an apology, head ducked and hands shoved in his pockets. The woman (Sandy?) waved him off and already had a glass out and a giant ice cube in it.

"Hey hey, it's okay," she smiled and filled the glass to the top. "I've got a dog and two cats at home, I know how hard it can be to leave them behind." She slid the glass over the counter to him and as he reached for it she settled her hand atop his; surprise brought his gaze back up from the ground to meet her soft brown eyes.

"If you need to talk or anything, you know where to find me." She smiled, patted his hand, and withdrew leaving a napkin folded up between his fingers. Before he could say anything, she was back in the thick of it, taking orders and busy with the lunchtime rush. He watched her work for a moment or two before he left, napkin folded and tucked into his palm, and whiskey clutched tightly in his other hand. Once outside he paused and opened the napkin revealing the name 'Sandy' in cursive writing and a room number beneath it. His flush darkened and he stared at the ceiling in the hallway, wondering how the hell he'd gotten himself mixed up in this weird series of romantic situations when he could barely speak to people in his daily life. His gaze strayed to the whiskey which he then reverently sipped, ignoring the curious looks of people walking past him. The burn of the alcohol soothed his nerves and warmed his throat and belly and, stuffing the napkin into his back pocket for later consideration, he made his way out of the crowded hallway.

He reached the deck with relatively few surprises (apart from a couple who thought the elevator was their bedroom and were only slightly upset with Will when they ran into him) and as he emerged into bright sunshine he wondered at how active and alert and awake the cruise-goers seemed to be. Everywhere could be found families and couples and groups of people loudly and raucously laughing or enjoying some on-deck entertainment. It was as though one giant party had broken out and his invitation had been neglected. Maintaining a death grip on his now half empty glass, Will made his way towards a small group of people with whom a staff member appeared to be arguing. He hoped, finally, that he could get some information about just what the hell was going on and when they would be moving on towards their destination.

"But you said that we could get ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS worth of drink tickets! You haven't even given us a handful of them and we haven't had any word on the boat trouble!"

"Ma'am I appreciate what you're saying but we are currently working on sending out tickets to everyone of age on the ship. If you haven't received yours yet we apologize and will-,"

"I don't want your APOLOGY I want my DRINKS." Will was quickly losing his patience with an argument that seemed to be going nowhere fast.

"If you'll just wait a moment I can have someone-,"

"No I want my tickets now or so help me-," The woman, who was becoming more and more shrill and whiny as the seconds passed, gasped audibly as the last quarter of Will's precious whiskey sloshed along her feet. He would have been lying if he said there hadn't been some joy in listening to the 'thunk' as the Titanic sized ice cube slammed into her toes.

"Oh no, my drink." He muttered as the woman was dragged away by what was either her girlfriend or her sister. Secretly he hoped her tickets were lost in the mail. Forever. A moment or two passed, during which Will allowed the crewmember to gather themselves, before he approached the harried person dressed similarly to Arnold. Although their uniform was not so well pressed as Arnold's, Will figured he could give them a break considering the argument he'd just witnessed.

"Whatever you need, it's yours," They said, running a hand over what was originally a careful updo but was now a messy bun. "Seriously, free drink tickets for life I don't care."

"Well that is very kind of you and I certainly won't turn that down. But I was wondering what was going on with the engine?" The crewmember crossed their arms and straightened up.

"According to the engineers, the engine is…. almost fixed? They're a little confused; they've told us that the engine has fully cooled, but it isn't starting. They are running the entire system through a reboot program or something and they're hoping that by first thing in the morning it will be up and running." Will sighed and scratched at the back of his head, frustrated but pleasantly buzzed and in the sunshine and realizing that he shouldn't be as upset as he felt.

"Don't worry, sir, I'm sure we'll be on our way and almost at port by midmorning tomorrow. The engineers seemed pretty sure of themselves. This may seem frustrating but unfortunately, it's pretty common. At least out here in this area. We've had this happen a couple of times, which is why we always have extra drink tickets or reimbursement checks or whatever we need to placate, er, fix the situation with our lovely passengers. Now," They smiled and pulled out a sheaf of paper from their pocket. "How about I pass you on a few tickets and disappear before Susan the soccer mom comes back to harass me again?" Will smiled, feeling somewhat unsure of himself and the overall situation but definitely unwilling to pass on the drink tickets. He reached out, accepted what the crewmember was offering them, and offered a half-hearted wave as they escaped quickly below deck.

A quick glance confirmed that he'd been gifted with more drink coupons than he could possibly use in one trip (assuming he didn't wish to lapse into alcohol poisoning), and feeling somehow satisfied and calmed by this, he wandered slowly towards his spot in the shade away from the overall hustle on deck. Although the feeling of unease lingered he tried not to focus on it. He'd neglected to bring a book or any crossword, but rather than return to his room for one, he settled on a lounge chair and watched the people go about their activities instead. There was something, he decided as he leaned back further into the shady alcove he'd found for himself, altogether soothing and somewhat comforting in people watching. Seeing that there was no panic, no concern, nor any apparent terror in the elderly playing shuffleboard or the kids jumping into the pool nearby helped him find his center.

Will wasn't sure how long he stayed like that, watching people go about their various cruise-related activities, but the next thing he knew he was jolted awake by what he immediately saw to be a beach ball.

"Shit, sorry man! We didn't see you there! You okay?" Dramatically Will grasped at his chest, reaching for the ball with the intention of tossing it back towards the teens that were jogging towards him.

"I might have been startled into a heart attack but otherwise I'm perfectly-," His gaze shifted to the sky and he found himself swearing as he scrambled to his feet. The sun was just starting to dip below the horizon and he was going to be late for his meeting (date?) with Arnold. He tossed them the ball and immediately booked it to the elevators, cursing his apparently flimsy grasp on time as he made his way to his room. Something about this felt…wrong. Off. Not only did he not remember nodding off (normally he would pull himself out of the sun entirely to ensure he did not burn to a crisp), but he could have sworn he'd only just sat down. His stomach started to churn and he groaned, head held momentarily in his hands as he tried to regain some semblance of control over his spiraling panic and the worry that Arnold would be disgusted with his lateness. And while he knew he had no hope of impressing Arnold, Will was hoping to see him looking at least somewhat put together. This stranger on a boat did not need to know just what kind of a wild mess he himself was in his daily life and he certainly didn't need to know that he was officially losing track of time in a way that was starting to upset him.

Moving quickly he made it back to his room, fobbed himself in, and made for the shelves that he had hastily stuffed his clothes into earlier that week. Some hopeless digging turned up one of four collared shirts he'd packed and, luckily, the dark blue button-up was both clean and relatively free of wrinkles despite having been crammed into a drawer for several days. A fresh pair of slacks that he'd draped over the chair in the corner, a quick hand running through hair, and a splash of water on his lightly burned cheeks created an image of a man who could probably function normally in society. Will said a quick, silent prayer to whatever Gods might be listening, and exited his room trying to move quickly without looking like he was running.

OoOoOoO

There were multiple places a person might find food or drink aboard the MS Event Horizon. Will was familiar, for the most part, with the snazzy bar and the buffet area that he'd been frequenting but he was assuming that Arnold had not meant either of these places. Rather Will imagined it was the restaurant at the center of the ship, Galaxy, that they would be meeting in. He glanced at his watch and was relieved to find that it was only 8:15 as he strode in through the doors and into the small waiting area in front of the well-dressed maître d. The young woman, wearing a beautiful pinstriped dark suit jacket and pencil skirt, blonde hair in a ponytail over her shoulder, looked up from her writing and flashed an award-winning brilliant smile at him.

"Good evening, sir, did you need a seat or were you waiting for someone?" Will opened and closed his mouth, looking like a fish thrust unceremoniously on land and told to speak German, as he tried to figure out how to play this. Was he early enough to have beaten Arnold there? Was Arnold already there? And how did he know he wasn't going to get Arnold in trouble? And, belatedly, was this a date? Was he over-dressed or under-dressed and where was he supposed to,-

"Right on time, Will!" From just behind him came a familiar voice and all at once Will jumped and relaxed and smiled and blushed and wondered what the hell he was doing. He glanced towards the woman and was relieved to see her smile had only widened and that she didn't appear to be calling any security on either of them.

"Arnold, is this handsome man the one you were meeting here? You should have told me, and I would have found him a seat already. And maybe a drink; he looks like he could use one."

"Perhaps, but I had originally planned to beat him here and choose the best table ahead of time. But you know how the captain is; there were things I had to do before I was free for the evening and I lost track of time." Will did not miss the hint of danger in Arnold's voice and Will's flush deepened; was Arnold warning the woman off? He hadn't thought that Arnold was that serious about his interest regarding Will but it wouldn't be the first time he'd been slow on the uptake.

"I hope you were not waiting long, William?"

"No, no. I just got here a minute ago myself."

"Excellent." Arnold smiled and strode confidently towards the maître d, whose name Will was just now noticing, was Aria. He joined her behind the little stand and glanced down at the tables. After a moment, he pointed to one, she nodded, and he was gesturing for Will to follow him. Ignoring Aria's wink and hoping that he wasn't making a mistake, Will followed Arnold to a series of tables set up against the window. He was relieved when Arnold gestured for him to choose a seat and sat so that he could see the door, a habit he'd gained when first consulting for the FBI. Arnold seemed satisfied to take the other seat and, as though they'd choreographed the entire moment, sat down opposite one another and immediately interrupted each other.

"So I was-,"

"I didn't mean to-," The both paused, and Arnold chuckled while Will cleared his throat and gestured for Arnold to continue.

"I was hoping to order for us if that isn't too presumptuous. I happened to speak with the chef earlier and know what's the freshest options are on the menu." Will shrugged and leaned back in his chair.

"By all means. I haven't eaten here yet so I'm not familiar with what they have." Arnold grinned and passed over what Will instantly knew to be the drink menu.

"I will, however, give you the honor of choosing the drinks for us." Will smiled and accepted the proffered menu.

"You do understand I drink whiskey and…whiskey, right?" Arnold smiled and Will smiled and overall Will thought he was doing pretty good.

The waiter came and Arnold ordered and the whiskey was brought and they talked, and they laughed and for the first time since Jack brought him into his office and told him that he was being forced on vacation Will was enjoying himself. Minutes passed and eventually their waiter returned, two plates of what looked like steak in hand. Despite raised eyebrows from Will, their plates were settled in front of them and the waiter excused.

"I have to admit, I had assumed it would be fish. Seeing as how we are literally in the middle of the ocean." Arnold raised a finger and waggled it to suggest just how much of a mistake that would have been.

"They only offer steak every couple of days and it's Kobe; the fish they won't do until tomorrow so we're better off getting the steak tonight and the fish tomorrow." Will's heart skipped a beat and he tried to tell himself to stop being so ridiculous and not to assume that Arnold was again asking him out for dinner and was instead just informing him of the way the restaurant worked so that he, Will, could choose fish the next night. When he came here. Alone. Inextricably. Alone and definitely not accompanied by the still marvelously attractive man who was staring at him expectantly from across the table oh god he asked him a question didn't he. Yup. That was the face of a man who had just asked a question and was waiting for some kind of response. Will cleared his throat.

"Yes. Yes that's a very important thing. That you've just said. Right there. Important." Inwardly he groaned as he forced a smile and wondered why he had said yes to dinner. Arnold leaned forward, hands laced and chin on his hands. There was something in his eyes that Will found himself unable to fully understand. Something curious and, again, predatory. But the man blinked and the look was gone and he was smiling again.

"You haven't heard a word I've said, have you?"

"I heard the words you JUST said, so that's not entirely true." Arnold chuckled and returned to his steak.

"Well. What will you do when we make port again? I've noticed you don't always go to shore with the rest of the passengers." Will paused for a moment, thoughtfully chewing on the most delicious steak he had ever had the good fortune to put in his mouth, before responding.

"I suppose it depends. I usually choose not to leave if everyone else is too excited. I don't like getting caught up in the rush and I especially don't like port cities. They're bad enough when the passengers are bored but if everyone is feeling stir crazy and excited for beaches or whatever then it's just unbearable. For me at least it's bad," He shrugged. "I'd just rather enjoy some silence or the sound of the ocean from here in those cases."

"I had kind of assumed that to be the case. You don't ever really do any of the activities here." Will's lip curled in something like disgust.

"You mean the 'discos' and the 'parties' and the 'late-night whatevers' that you guys host? No, it's not really my style or my thing. Sorry if that offends." Arnold laughed and waved his hands gently in front of him dismissing the idea that he could possibly be offended by this statement.

"To be honest, I'm not all that excited for them myself. It can be fun sometimes, like when the DJ is cool and plays the stuff that I slip him or when they let us relax and actually join the party instead of watching over it to make sure people like Mr. Hallway from earlier don't fall overboard," He sighed and returned to what was left of his meal. "Overall, it's not the worst gig I've ever had. To be honest, I feel pretty lucky. With the way everything's turned out." His voice had grown wistful as he pushed around some mashed potatoes on his plate and Will could not help but think Arnold was talking about something completely different than what Will thought he was. Rather than question him, Will remained silent and simply watched the other man pick at his food. The moment passed in silence, both wrapped in their own thoughts, before the waiter returned and offered a dessert that both men declined.

Feeling pleasantly drunk and full, Will followed Arnold from the restaurant and down the hallway that would eventually lead them topside. They walked in a companionable silence, neither speaking and both wrapped up in their own thoughts until they found themselves leaning against the same railing they'd spoken at on that first day of the cruise. Will leaned his elbows on the railing, resting his chin gently in upturned palms as he contemplated the stars.

"One thing I will say about this whole cruise thing, seeing the sky like this, without any lights and surrounded by the open ocean is an experience I will never forget."

"No, I don't suppose you will." Will froze, the hairs on the back of his neck rising. He hadn't noticed that Arnold had hung back when they approached the railing but he turned now to see the man standing with a few feet between them, arms at his sides and eyes glittering with something that did not look friendly in the darkness.

"Wh-," Arnold was on him faster than Will could have imaged any human could move. The man had grabbed him around the neck and lifted him off the ground as easily as though he were a weightless doll all in the time it took for him to blink. Will immediately began clawing at the man's arms, scratching and kicking and fighting to free himself even as his body went into full panic mode and his head began to grow light. The rush of adrenaline had sent him into a frenzy that would have freed him in any other situation; while Will did not spend much of his off time in the gym, he was strong and being a consultant had taught him the importance of being aware and fast and keeping oneself alert. He wondered if the whiskey had been drugged.

"I'm sorry. Truly, I am. But it will only hurt for a moment, I can promise you that. And in the morning, we will know. Yes. In the morning we will know, one way or the other." Will's eyes were wide with panic and fear and pain as the man crushed his windpipe as easily as he had lifted him and without another word tossed him over the edge of the ship. Time seemed to slow for Will. He felt his legs brush against the railing as he tried in vain to hook his legs before he went overboard. His eyes remained locked with Arnold's and he saw nothing as he fell, an empty blackness that seemed to encompass not only the man but the entirety of the ship itself. He felt the wind, whipping at his coat and buffeting his ears, and he could hear the gentle lapping of water against the side of the ship just before he hit.

And he saw the stars, sparkling and bright and beautiful in the sky above them.

Arnold had been right. The view was not something he would ever forget.

OoOoOoO

Gasping for air Will awoke, bolting upright in bed with a strangled cry that passed effortlessly through a trachea that was wholly intact and completely uninjured. He was soaked in sweat, heart thudding violently against his chest and it took him nearly a full minute before he realized he wasn't struggling for breath in the black waters that he had just plummeted to his death in.

"What the fuck," He whispered. "What the actual fuck is happening. What is happening right now. What the fuck." He muttered to himself for another few minutes as he touched his chest and arms and legs and tried his best to convince himself that he wasn't going insane. After his heart rate returned to normal and he was certain he wasn't going to pass out the instant he stood up, Will swung his legs free of his tangled bedsheets and staggered into the bathroom. Nauseated, he groped for the shower and was relieved when the water started despite his blurry vision. His sweat-soaked clothes were just hitting the floor as he stepped into the still icy spray. He gasped and stood stock still until the water warmed, feeling awake and ready to try again at understanding what had happened the night before.

"Obviously I'm not dead. So that must have been a dream, right? Just a horrible nightmare." And yet, this didn't seem…right. The idea that he died struck a chord with him somewhere deeper than his consciousness and somehow, he couldn't shake the feeling of hitting that water. Whatever was going on, he decided as he stepped free of the shower and dried himself off, he needed to find Arnold. Whether an intense dream or something else, Arnold was at the center of it and Will intended to figure out just what the fuck was going on.

Still nauseate but at least smelling clean, he grabbed his key fob and threw his door open-

"What the hell, bro?!" And immediately smashed into the same man he'd seen yesterday morning, spilling drinks and sending him staggering backwards. Will's jaw went slack and his eyes wide as he stared at the man and tried to argue that yes, of course the same passenger would be at the same place at the same time carrying the same drinks in the same colored cups and yelling the same thing.

"I… Didn't we do this yesterday?"

"What? Are you crazy or somethin', bro?" The man groaned and glanced down at the soggy mess on the floor.

"I'm sorry I really didn't see-,"

"See what, bro? Ugh, thanks a lot." The man stormed off, swaying obviously and heavily on his feet, headed in the same direction as yesterday. The level of déjà vu Will was currently experiencing was intense and dizzying. If the same man as "yesterday" had done the same thing as he had "yesterday" then likely that meant that a certain handsome murderer was headed his way as well. Will whirled on his feet and staggered backwards, crunching one of the plastic cups under his foot, and saw Arnold striding purposefully towards him with a smile on his face. Will's fight or flight kicked in and he tensed, jaw gritting as he prepared for a fight of some kind.

"Doing some early morning drinking, handsome?"

"Err, no. I was just leaving and I bumped into another passenger." Tense and on edge, Will did his best to sound like he wasn't totally under the impression that Arnold was a murderous crazy-pants and hoped that Arnold would leave quickly.

"Ahh, yes. I was just following the man you're talking about; being that drunk this early I was concerned and hoping to make sure he got to his cabin safely."

"Yes, that sounds pretty important. I'm just going to head up for some breakfast and wish you luck in checking on that drunk guy." Will smiled as affably as he was capable of and made to step around Arnold. Arnold reached out for him and Will couldn't stop his flinch as he ducked the man's grasp. The other man blinked a couple of times, confusion and concern clouding his gaze, and Will sincerely hoped that his insane dreams weren't just trying to ruin his chances of engaging socially and possibly romantically with someone.

"I was hoping that since my schedule would allow it, that we could have a dinner of some kind tonight? Liquid or solid, whatever your flavor. Say, 8:30? At the one and only true dining experience aboard this somewhat water-logged vessel?" Will shivered at the familiarity with the entire situation and cleared his throat.

"I would love to, really, but I haven't been feeling well and was thinking of retiring to my room after breakfast for some rest." The lie came easily as it was mostly true, especially after the eerily similar phrasing of Arnold's date offer.

"Oh, well, I understand. The lack of motion has a lot of other passengers feeling pretty ill. Tell ya what, we'll postpone this 'till another night and maybe I can stop by with some ginger ale and crackers after my shift. My treat, cheap though it may be."

"Sure Arnold, that sounds uh…that sounds great." Arnold's smile returned, and he offered a two-fingerd salute beneath a wolfish grin that was as familiar as Arnold's next words.

"Great! Well then, until later William."

"Yeah, later." Feeling like he could bear no more of this uncomfortable conversation, Will turned on his heel and walked as quickly as he could away from Arnold. He was unable to ignore the feeling of being watched as he went and was careful to keep his gaze forward but his senses on high alert. His posture did not relax until he turned the corner leading to the main hallway that would take him to the elevator while simultaneously taking him out of eyesight range of the man he hoped he could avoid seeing later.

What he would have seen, had he turned around during his quick escape, was the sudden and altogether curious existence of a misty black cloud in the hallway just beside Arnold. Seconds passed and as they did a man seemed to step from the center of the small cloud, as though he had walked through an open doorway. He was taller than Arnold by a few inches, and refined in a way that spoke of knowledge and power and control. The man tugged at the cuffs of an impeccable dark blue suit and straightened the collar of the white undershirt beneath. Arnold stepped around and straightened the man's already straight tie. His face was beaming, teeth bared in what was most likely a smile.

"It seems as though you were correct, Arnold." The man purred, hands drifting to cross in front of his chest. His voice was melodious and gentle in the hallway, caramel colored eyes glinting in the overhead lights.

"Yes, sir. He remembers. I can't be sure how well or how much, due to his running away of course, but he is more promising than anyone we've seen yet," Arnold paused, took a step back and considered the taller man before him. "Does he interest you, sir?"

The man's smile extended to half of a grin and without another word he vanished, trace remnants of the black smoke filtering down from where he once stood. Arnold clapped his hands together and raised them to his face, unable to hide his excitement once the other man was gone.

"I'll take that as a wholehearted 'yes!' What a wonderful night we have ahead of us!" He turned on the heels of his shoes and continued down the hallway, whistling loudly and with gusto.

OoOoOoO

Despite realizing full and well that it was the exact path he traced the previous day…the same day? The day that he was pretty sure he'd already done but was now, for some reason, doing again- regardless of the fact that he was definitely not doing well, Will stumbled out of the elevator to the buffet area. He was simultaneously disappointed and frustrated that breakfast was already being removed, that he had once again lost several hours, and that the person who he knew was saving him a bagel was excitedly waving him over.

"I swear to god if that man has an everything bagel-,"

"Hey! Over here! I saved you a-," But Will was already turning and shuffling as fast as his stooped body could and would take him past the buffet and the confused staff member and down the hallway that would inevitably lead him to the bar. Because if he was going to get some sort of handle on this situation he was going to need as much whiskey as his hands (and a bucket) could carry.

He pushed his way quickly to the bar the moment he entered, ignoring the irritated patrons as he squished his body into the smallest of gaps between two cruisegoers who may or may not have been in the middle of an argument.

"Oh hey, dog guy!"

"Yes, it is I, the dog guy. Please, please give me-,"

"Whiskey, right?" The voice came from Will's right and he jumped, nearly knocking the patron on the stool to his left who was just reaching for the fruitiest of margaritas. He hadn't been spoken to by anyone but the bartender yesterday.

"Er, yes. Whiskey. And you can forget the rocks this time around. And make the glass bigger. Please." He kept his eyes on the bartender who, rather than launch into the conversation from the previous day, had glanced at the man Will could only see out of the corner of his eye, and had silently begun preparing his full glass of whiskey. The drink was handed to him with little more than a nod, and a glance at his hand showed that he had not been gifted with the woman's number and found a tiny part of him disappointed and wondering if the stranger beside him had had anything to do with this shift in events. Will took several burning gulps of his drink, draining the glass nearly halfway, before he turned to the man who was now looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

The man was handsome, of course, which only made Will wish he'd somehow ingested the entirety of the glass in that gulp a few moments ago. And dressed to the nines. The blue in his suit brought out the gentle tan in his skin and only served to emphasize the well-combed hair and gentle demeaner. Will tried to stop ogling the man but the whiskey had gone straight to his pants and he found himself wishing that the man was both further away and closer all the same time-

Will blinked, flabbergasted with himself and mumbled some excuse as he pulled himself free of the over-crowded bar and stumbled into the hallway where he took a moment for himself to just breathe. He leaned against the wall and brought the relatively cool glass to his cheek in an attempt to cool his heated skin. Try as he might, Will could not remember ever reacting to a person so strongly or so quickly in his life.

Rather than dwell on it, he pushed free of the wall and headed to the deck.

Whatever hope he'd held out that he was just having some weird, extended sort of déjà vu was thrown overboard the moment he spotted the same crewmember as before fielding the shrill shouts of the same drunk passenger as before. He waited only moments before drinking most of what remained in his glass and dropping it on the woman's bared toes. Her wails were louder than the previous day and hazily Will remembered he'd had an ice cube in his glass when he'd dropped it near her last time. The woman hobbled away, aided by their much more sober companion, leaving Will with the amused and relived crewmember. Before they could begin offering him an entire year's worth of drink tickets he held up his hand.

"Listen, this might sound kind of weird, but who could I talk to about the engine trouble we're currently having?" The person blinked and tilted their head, registering what he'd said before choosing to respond.

"You would probably want the engineers but they're down below right now working on the engine and won't be back up until this evening. If you give me your room number I can have them call you when they're available to chat?" They looked more curious than hopeful that he would take their advice and did not seem at all perturbed when he shook his head, thanked them for their time, and turned back toward the lobby where the elevator was just letting off a new slew of people onto the deck. He was only entirely embarrassed when he saw the man from the bar step off behind the loud and sunburned family. Will was thinking he might have been too drunk for this when the man caught his gaze, smiled in a way that was not entirely friendly, and began to walk towards him.

Will was definitely too drunk for this. He raised his gaze to the cloudless blue sky, asked for forgiveness, and barreled past the man and the family and nearly dove into the elevator. He paused only for a moment while he contemplated his sudden irrational and insane behavior as he mashed the door to close the elevator. He kept his body pressed as tightly as possible against the wall of the elevator in a desperate attempt to become invisible. When finally the doors slid silently shut he relaxed and pressed the button that would take him as low as the elevator would go. At this point, he was certain he was still dreaming. That he must still be asleep. The booze that had so suddenly hit his system was now leaving his head felling fuzzy and pounding and he wondered when the last time he'd had anything remotely hydrating.

OoOoOoO

Looking altogether perplexed and feeling frustration for the first time in years, the sharp-dressed man pivoted and stared at the elevator, head cocked gently to the side. This was the first time he had revealed himself in any form to any human in far too long to remember and he wasn't sure what to make of this human in particular. The man, whose true name he had forgotten but whom Arnold affectionately referred to as "Hannibal" when they were alone, was not sure what he should do. He had felt something, downstairs at the bar, when he'd appeared at the man's side. Something…

Different.

Something that called to a part of him he'd thought long dead or gone or buried or lost at sea.

But it was clear that the man was disoriented. Distracted and confused or perhaps even a little bit afraid. Whatever was happening in that man's mind, Hannibal reasoned as he pondered the closed elevator doors before him, there was much work to be done. The man, Hannibal decided, was not yet ready. It would have been asking for the moon and stars for that to be the case. Even he, the king of all he saw and master of reality in this slice of the universe, had needed some preparation and time before he'd truly come into himself. He paused in the midst of what might have become a reverie into his past and turned his attention back to the matter at hand. Yes, this man with the messy hair and too much stubble was definitely going to be trouble.

And trouble was exactly what Hannibal needed.

OoOoOoO

Will's thoughts continuously returned to the mystery man as he watched the floors light up on his way down. The elevator stopped and started as others joined him and left him on his way down, none staying long enough to question the silent, brooding man in the corner. Why hadn't Will seen the man before? He was absolutely certain that he would remember the man with the riveting eyes and perfect hair and yet, racking his brain produced zero results. How had he found Will so quickly up on deck?

Will flushed and ran a hand through already messy hair. Why he thought the man was looking specifically for him, he couldn't say. Coincidentally meeting with him twice in such a short span of time was curious at best and yet, somehow, Will had a feeling that the man had been looking for him. Will shuddered with the stop of the elevator on the lowest of decks and disembarked with a single elderly woman who, based on her Bingo related headwear (an enormous hat topped by a clear ball the size of her head that said 'Step Aside Losers' emblazoned in pink glittery letters) was off to sweep the tables of an underground bingo tournament. His gaze roved the hallways to his left and right before alighting on the rough map of the ship's interior he'd been searching for.

"Should be a service entrance somewhere down this hallway." He muttered under his breath, finger tracing the relatively simple path on the map that he would need to take. As he about-faced and made his way purposefully down the mostly empty hallway Will wondered what, exactly, his plan was. He had no idea what he was doing or where he was going. He knew only that something was wrong here and he needed to do something about it. If only for his sanity; keeping his body moving was just another way to try and keep his brain moving. He was still holding out hope for waking up suddenly and finding that they were almost at their next port city.

By the time he reached the "Crewmembers Only" sign on the door he was hoping would lead him to the bowels of the ship he was well and truly regretting the whiskey he'd had earlier. Whether it was the adrenaline or the fact that he'd pretty much been doing nothing but drinking during his entire vacation, he was now left feeling shaky, ready for a nap, and sporting the worst case of dry mouth he could ever remember having. Will glanced both ways and, while the hallways remained clear, he tugged on the handle and-

Was entirely surprised when it opened for him.

The dumbfounded FBI empath stood there, mouth slightly agape, for nearly a full thirty seconds before dashing inside and gently shutting the door behind him. Regardless of what he had intended when he'd entered the elevator, he had not expected to get this far. He had been certain that someone, anyone, would stop him to ask questions or lead him to the Bingo tournament. And at the very least he had expected that surely the super-secret door intended only for the crew to use would have been locked.

The butterfly that had been lurking in his belly was quickly becoming a maelstrom of birds roiling in his gut as he glanced left and right and left and right to ensure that there was nobody nearby. He saw no one and heard nothing and after a few somewhat indecisive seconds, Will headed down the corridor in search of stairs or an elevator or any other mode of transportation that would take him down. After a few moments of looking around, the consultant realized that subconsciously it seemed he was following a sound. He paused in the hallway, frowning as he listened to the noise, before realizing that every second not moving was another one closer to being caught.

After what felt like an eternity but was more like three and a half minutes of walking down confusing corridors and peeking in curiously stationed doorways along said corridor, Will found a door marked "Stairs" and was again confused to find the door unlocked. The sound was significantly louder here, and Will was certain that it could only be some kind of machinery. The hairs along the back of his neck and arms were starting to rise and alarms were beginning to sound in his head as he quietly opened the door and slid inside.

If there had been any doubt as to the origin of the sound, it was dispelled the moment he had stepped through the door. He quietly shut the door behind him and, hoping that he wasn't making a huge mistake, headed towards the sound. The noise led him to a metallic staircase that headed down and while the part of him that loved horror movies was telling him to leave, run away right this second, he knew he could not turn back after having come this far.

He took a breath.

He steadied himself.

And he started down the staircase.

It did not take long for him to fully regret his decision; roughly the amount of time it took him to arrive at the source of the mechanical cacophony. His eyes roved over the catwalk that spread out from the end of the staircase and he winced at the thought of being over the source of the racket but saw no other way to get a better look.

"What the fuck...," He muttered as he walked slowly to the railing that overlooked what was definitely not the typical engine room of a typical cruise ship. Gazing out over the rail, hands gripping the metal tight enough to whiten his knuckles, Will found himself simultaneously dumbfounded and confused. Now, Will was very much aware that he was not an engineer. Nor had he ever served on a cruise ship, or any kind of ship for that matter. But he was fairly certain that there could not possibly be any kind of ship that required what looked to be an enormous vat filled with frightening machinery moving at a speed he could not follow. An occasional spark flew from the depths of it and he wondered if this could be safe in any way, shape, or form. Surrounding it were twelve much smaller, much safer looking covered components that looked a lot closer to what modern engines should look like. Or at least, what he thought they should look like.

Ignoring the screeching terror in his head, he leaned ever so slightly over the edge, eyes squinting and lips parting just slightly and eyebrows knitting together in a look that was entirely confusion.

"Do you like it?" Will's heart nearly leapt from his chest as he whirled to find that he was no longer alone. Silently he cursed himself for not watching his back but found he could not wholeheartedly blame himself for not hearing anyone approaching over the sound of the machine beneath him. Standing behind him, wearing the same dark blue suit he'd spotted him in earlier that day, was the handsome stranger that it seemed was definitely following him.

"I don't even know what 'it' is, to be honest." He managed after a moment of silence.

"It's how we travel. I will tell you more. Soon. But not yet. It's too early to tell you, I think. Mr. Graham-," Will blanched and backed further into the railing, his hands gripping the rail behind him. How the hell did he know his name?

"Mr. Graham, you are quite a unique creature. You seem to have caught on to the fact that things are not exactly as they seem. Tell me; how did it feel? When Arnold threw you overboard last night? Were you frightened?" The man's eyes shone as he began walking, no, stalking towards Will who remained inexplicably frozen in place.

"Did you expect to wake up again? Were you surprised? Confused?" Will could not physically press himself into the railing any further and found himself incapable of speaking as the man came closer and closer. Within seconds he was standing just before him, so close Will could feel the heat coming from him. Could see the diamond-shaped design that nearly blended into his suit. And still he remained frozen as he man's hand reached out towards his face, his head cocked to the side and what looked like a smirk playing on his lips. Behind him, Will could hear, could feel the creaking of the guardrail behind him and he wondered just how often maintenance came to look at the room down here.

Despite the fact that Will had no idea what was going on.

Despite the fact that Will was absolutely terrified.

Despite the fact that Will had never ached to feel the touch of another human being so badly as in any singular moment.

Despite all of this, Will could not stop what was not a conscious decision as he jerked away, backwards, and with just enough force to destroy what little remained of the corroding metal holding his section of the railing together. The moment happened in slow motion, as it had seemed to with Arnold the other night. The fence gave way and he was tumbling backwards through the air and out of reach of the man with the perfect hair and wolfish, hungry eyes. The man's arm was still outstretched, reaching towards a face that was no longer there, though the man's eyes followed his own. He watched as Will plummeted towards the machinery, his smirk slowly disappearing and something akin to confusion replacing it.

Will knew little else beyond the white hot and instantaneous pain as he slammed into the churning metal monster and was gone.

OoOoOoO

From above, Hannibal could see it all happening. Could hear the fence giving out as the man jerked away from his touch. And yet, as William crashed through the fence and landed squarely in the center of their most essential and ruthless machine, only to disappear seconds later in an explosion of blood and definitely accompanied by the sounds of bones crunching, there was only one thing he could think to say.

"Magnificent."