UNINTENTIONAL AND INSTANTANEOUS

~insanity and co~

Maybe it was so easy because he didn't study her face.

Will Graham took quick peaks at Abigail's face, gauging her expression and then turning away again...his jerky motions even faster when she caught him. It was easier for her to act just a little bit more like herself when she wasn't under a microscope. Her every move, every word, even every tick of her face was not on display with Will like it was with Hannibal or Jack or Alana...all for different reasons.

Jack had every reason to be wary of her; Abigail understood that all too well.

Alana was on guard constantly, ready to pull her back to the safety behind the hospital walls if she looked one bit stressed.

And Hannibal... Hannibal had just as much reason to be wary as Jack did, but in quite the opposite direction. Jack wanted her to be caught, and Hannibal couldn't let it happen or he would be discovered just as quickly. He had made that very clear to her.

Abigail understood her relationship to those three extremely well after two weeks of sitting in a hospital bed, wandering the grounds (definitely not sneaking over the wall in a corner the cameras were blind to), and thinking things over in her head. The past weeks, the past years, far before her father had ever been caught. All of that thinking made her situation crystal clear, and the severity of everything calmed and terrified her. It almost (just almost) made her want to stop talking for good. Stop talking, stop listening, stop being when she had to hide something so much that she was forced to let herself go just to keep her guard up. No matter who it was around, there had to be that wall to keep her (and them) safe.

Will was just Will, pacing the room while she sat on her bed with a curiously wrapped present in her hands. He wasn't her psychologist, wasn't trying to pin murders on her head, and wasn't focusing so much on keeping her secrets. He was just an awfully twitchy man.

An awfully twitchy man who had just given her the worst possible present: a box filled with supplies to create fishing lures.

The idea that the thought crossed his mind shocked her, but the fact that he had actually gone through with it and wrapped it up like a Christmas present - complete with cartoon Santas across the paper - was terrifying at first. Then, when Abigail looked up and saw the tight smile, head tilted down and eyes fixed on her feet - thankfully not her face - she swallowed her initial reaction.

"I've never been a fisher. I was a hunter." Her statement was plain and she held the box in her hands, sure that if she set it down immediately he would assume it was in disgust and she was not really disgusted...just very very surprised.

"I thought it would be good to pick up new hobbies."

"Now that I've lost one?" The words were out with a quirk of her eyebrow and she didn't realize how accusing her words were until Will's head turned sharply to the window. He had read her loud and clear: You think hunting girls was my hobby. He moved his entire body away from her.

She waited until Will glanced over, which took longer than she had expected, and gave him the most convincing smile she could muster.

"I was trying to joke, but I don't think it came out very well." Will offered a forced smile in reply and just a small nod, leaving Abigail unsure of whether he believed her or not. "Thank you. What kind of feathers are these?"

Abigail opened the box and pulled out a small, pretty blue one, black at the tip and feathers soft and whispy at the base.

"Indigo Bunting. There's also a Purula and I'm sorry."

"Sorry?"

"It was a horrible idea, I shouldn't have even thought about teaching you to fish." He took a step back and quickly took off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes as tight as he could. Abigail smiled, not needing any form of training to read some of his nervous habits.

"I'm glad you did," Abigail said, managing a much more convincing smile this time and Will put his glasses back on, eyebrows drawn together and silently prompting her. "Nobody treats me like a normal person. Everyone avoids certain topics like I'm going to go AWOL on them for using the H word. Hunting was a big part of my life even before my dad did what he did." Abigail rolled the base of the blue feather between her thumb and finger, the wispy plume tickling her knuckles. "I know that I can't ever go hunting without thinking about everything that happened. I don't know if I ever want to go hunting again, but fishing..." She paused and put the feather back into the box. "...I want to try it."

The box felt heavy in her hands when she finally lifted it to remove the Christmas wrapping paper completely, crumpling it up and setting it aside. Will sat heavily in the chair across from her bed, shoulders relaxing only a little bit and a wider smile on his face.

Even though the present was, at first, horrifying...he was trying. Not to keep secrets suppressed, keep her inside a hospital, or put her in prison. He was just trying to reach out in a way that he was (very clearly) not accustomed to.

Author's Note: Not that much Hannibal in this, but there's enough Will that it
should make up for it. :) Thanks to my beta, Queen of the Beasties, for going over this. She's got some Hannibal stuff up too so go and check it out!