Alana drove him back to the observatory so he could drive himself home and get his gun back. Crime scene tape was still up around the building and a few officers lingered on the scene. Alana tried to talk to him, tried to talk him down from his rage-fueled state, but he wasn't prepared to listen. His vision was dyed a dark, blood red and he was trained on Hannibal.

Still, he knew better than to charge into a situation. He knew that going up against him with a hot head and no plan would yield nothing good, so rather than go directly after Hannibal, he drove home so he could wash the blood off of his skin, cool down, and think. He sat down in a chair with his laptop under the pretense of starting the next week's lesson plans but instead he thought about how he would catch Hannibal.

He realized he didn't know the extent of what Hannibal had done. If he could psychologically manipulate a patient and attempt to murder a colleague it seemed unlikely those were his only crimes. That would put experience and cunning on his side to remain out of suspicion for so long. To Will, that meant he would no longer have the tapes with Frederick's voice on them and there wouldn't be any evidence that Hannibal manipulated Gideon other than from Gideon himself.

All of that left him with few options and even fewer that he could pull off on his own. In fact, he could only think of one, and it was one he needed to prepare for. He closed his laptop and cooked dinner for himself and his dogs, planning to sleep early given how much of it he lost over the past day. Besides, he knew he couldn't do anything until the next day when he had an open appointment with Dr. Lecter waiting for him.

Just as he was crawling into bed, the dogs lying with him, his cell phone rang. His heart pounded as he grabbed it, thinking it might be the hospital. He checked through the bond for Frederick, fearing the worst, but still felt him there, unconscious but alive. Instead, Alana was calling and though he was tempted to ignore it, he answered anyway.

"Have you calmed down now?" she said harshly before he even had the chance to say hello.

He frowned, not wanting to be chastised for his actions. "I have," he replied curtly.

"And you're still going through with it. Will, if you just give the FBI what you know and allow them some time, they'll catch him," she said.

"I think he's bigger than these two crimes, Alana. I think this has been going on spanning years. If the FBI hasn't even picked up the traces of his scent on their own by now, they never will," Will reasoned.

Alana paused, thinking about his words. "You might be right. This all does seem too calculated for a first time. But the FBI as a whole is still better equipped to deal with it. If they need their attention brought to Hannibal Lecter, you can be the one to do that. Although, what crimes could he be committing that no one has noticed?"

Will considered that for a few moments, thinking about unsolved cases, when a horrible thought hit him as puzzle pieces slotted into place in his mind. "Alana, what if he's the Chesapeake Ripper?"

"What?" she said incredulously. "He's involved in some criminally unethical conduct, but outright murder?"

"He just manipulated Gideon into pulling out Frederick's organs one by one. If that was easy enough for him, what makes you think he couldn't kill someone himself? He fits the profile perfectly, you know he does," Will said, raising his voice as the realization made his heart pound and his stomach churn.

He heard silence on the other end and he knew she was being quiet until he calmed down. He sighed, relaxing back in his bed, and she started to speak. "I admit, he fits the profile, but Hannibal being the Ripper is an accusation you have no proof of. Stick to what you know, Will."

Will nodded, rubbing his eyes. "You're right."

"I often am," she said in a way that made him smile, even through the anxiety and anger he felt. "Anyway, if he does happen to be the Ripper, that makes whatever you plan to do a lot more dangerous."

"And a lot more necessary. If I go through with this and do it right, it will save a lot of lives," Will said, the thought of his success burning in his chest.

"If you're even right about this. And if you succeed, at what cost? What are you planning to do?"

"Success requires sacrifice and I'm willing to sacrifice. But, if you're willing to help, I could use it. Come by tomorrow afternoon, I'll fill you in. Then you can decide if you want to play a part, but no matter your choice, I'm going through with it," Will said, sounding just as determined as he felt.

"Okay. I just don't understand why you need to go through with this so quickly," Alana said, starting to sound worried.

"He tried to kill Frederick because I told him I wanted nothing to do with him anymore. I don't know what he wants with me specifically, but it's clear he's not letting anyone get in his way. Once he finds out Frederick is still alive, he'll try again. I need to stop him now, Alana," Will said, his hands shaking a little from the fury he felt building.

He heard Alana sigh a little, a hopeless sort of sound. "We'll talk about this tomorrow."

"See you then."

He hung up and laid down, trying to get himself to sleep but it was harder than it seemed. He closed his eyes and tried to relax but all he saw in the darkness behind his eyelids was Frederick lying on that table, his insides spilling out. It chilled him and made him sick. The mild adrenaline he felt about what he planned to do the next day didn't do much to help either.

In the end, pure exhaustion took him, but his sleep was fitful. It was fraught with nightmares and worries that kept him tossing and turning and scared the dogs from his bed. He woke up early the next morning in a pool of sweat, knowing he wouldn't get himself back to sleep. All he could do then was to get up and prepare for the day.

He showered and dressed, keeping his phone close by at all times in case the hospital called. As he sat down for a light breakfast he wasn't even sure he could stomach, it finally rang and he swiftly answered it.

"Hello? How is he?" he said in a worried tone.

"Is this Mr. Graham?" the voice of an almost bored sounding woman said.

"It is. This is about Dr. Chilton, right?"

"Yes. Dr. Kerrigan would like you to know that he's starting to stabilize and there's a good chance he'll live," she replied.

Will felt relieved and some of the weight he'd been carrying around lifted from him. "Thank you. Thanks for letting me know."

"We'll call if there's any change in his condition or if he wakes up," she said in a way that sounded like she wanted to hurry the call along.

"I appreciate it. Bye," he said, hanging up the phone.

He left his breakfast forgotten, remembering something else he needed to do. While he didn't have time to speak with Gideon himself, he was sure Jack was going to have someone do it and he thought it would be a good idea to let him know what he should look for.

"Jack," Will said once he picked up. "Have you spoken with Dr. Gideon yet?"

"Not yet but we're sending a couple of the agents who detained him to speak with him today," Jack said gruffly. "Why? Is there something I should know?"

"Tell them to ask him the name of the little birdie who thought it would be a good idea for him to try and kill Frederick," Will said as he paced his living room.

"Are you telling me Gideon didn't do this alone?"

"He committed the act alone but the idea to do it doesn't belong to him. He told me that as I held him at gunpoint. He just never said who it was. Even though Gideon is unreliable as a testimony, it still might be useful evidence if you can pull a name from him."

"I'll let them know," Jack said. "And you let me know if you think of anything else I need to be aware of."

"Of course. Call me if you get a name."

After he hung up, he tried to calm himself down and go over his plan again in his mind, but he found it difficult to concentrate. He couldn't help but think what could go wrong, which was a lot given how quickly he'd put it together and how much it relied on him alone. Still, he knew he didn't have much of a choice and he could only hope, no matter what happened in between, that it would have the end result he needed.

Alana showed up at his home around two and Will could sense that she was stressed and worried about him. She charged into his home before Will could move aside to let her in, walking right into the waiting pack of dogs who followed her into the living room. She reached down, absently petting the dogs as she stared at Will expectantly as Will scratched the back of his neck nervously.

"Well, what's this plan you needed me to come all the way here to discuss?" she said as she crossed her arms.

Will sighed. "I can't tell you much."

She threw out her arms in exasperation before letting them fall at her sides. "Why not?"

"Because if I tell you all of the details, I know you'll try to stop me," Will said honestly.

"I don't like it already," she said, staring at him in a way that made him feel guilty.

Will collapsed into a chair, rubbing his forehead as Alana's worry started to make him doubt himself. "I don't have another option, Alana. I said that. Everything else will take too much time.

Alana frowned, her expression changing to one of sympathy as she pulled a chair over to sit in front of him. "You really care about him, don't you," she said, taking his hands in hers.

Will glanced up at Alana with a defeated sigh. "I do. And I can't lose him to Hannibal. He failed once, he won't fail again."

"Okay, fine," she conceded. "What do you need me to do?"

"Your role is very simple. I'm going to text you at some point and when I do, I need to you to make sure the FBI is nearby and on hand. Tell them about a disturbance at Hannibal's office. Tell them anything to get them there fast, gunshots, fallen cop, anything," Will said gravely.

"Will, I really don't like this," Alana said, holding his hands tightly.

"You don't have to, you just need to do as I said. Please," he pleaded.

"Fine. I'll do it. For you."

"Thank you," Will said genuinely. "Do you want any lunch? I still haven't eaten today."

She nodded almost solemnly as he stood up and walked into the kitchen where he set to making some grilled sandwiches. Halfway through as Alana sat in the living room with the dogs, his phone rang. He stepped away for a moment, grabbing his phone to see Jack was calling.

"Jack?" Will said as he felt his heart beat faster about what Jack might say. The only reason he would've called is if his agents had spoken to Gideon.

"We got a name," he said, and Will's plan was set in motion.

Will stood in the waiting room, quiet and patient, until Hannibal Lecter opened the door to his office. He knew he would even though he had no reason to expect Will would be there. Hannibal just checked out of habit and hope and Will was happy to provide a shred of hope. It would make it that much sweeter when he pulled the rug out from under him.

Will turned to face him with a smile and Hannibal smiled back, stepping aside to let Will in as he always did.

"Come in," Hannibal said as Will walked by him. "I didn't expect you to show up today."

"I didn't expect to either, and yet," he said with a shrug as he sat in his usual seat. It felt significantly more uncomfortable than usual but he didn't show his discomfort. He couldn't afford to show any weaknesses.

"How have you been?" Hannibal said, sitting down at the edge of his own seat.

"I've been better," Will said with a grimace. "But I also am better than I was, without all of that brain inflammation."

"At least the problems beneath have the chance to come to light and heal," Hannibal said, persistent in his idea that he'd been helping Will. Will tried not to scoff.

"And what problems are those?" Will said, raising an eyebrow as he crossed his legs

"We'll figure that out together now that we're able to see what was the encephalitis and what is you," Hannibal said carefully, looking Will over.

Will nodded as if that were a reasonable answer. "How are you, Dr. Lecter?"

Hannibal cocked his head to the side. "I'm well. Why do you ask?"

"Just curious," Will replied. "Have you heard about Frederick?"

Will saw Hannibal's eyes widen a slight fraction. "I haven't. Did you speak with him since leaving the hospital?"

Will laughed, a sad, hollow sound. "You know, I didn't get the chance. He's dead."

In that moment, Will didn't see concern or sadness in his eyes. He saw satisfaction. That was all the confirmation he needed. He gripped the arms of the chair tightly, settling himself in for the real game after making the first move.

"I'm very sorry to hear that, Will," Hannibal said, contorting his expression to perfectly mimic distress. "I know you cared a lot about him even though you weren't on the best of terms. He was your soul mate, after all."

"Thank you for your condolences, Dr. Lecter. I'm sure they come from a place of sincerity," Will said, staring Hannibal in the eye. "The thing is, the man who pulled out his insides piece by piece happened to let slip that he didn't think of the idea himself. Right before I shot him."

Hannibal's eyes narrowed for a moment as though he was trying to read Will's thoughts. "That is truly unfortunate. Do you have any ideas who it might've been?"

Will nodded. "I have a good idea."

Hannibal frowned, shifting slightly in his seat. "Have you told anyone else your suspicions?"

"No."

"Why not?"

Will paused with a thoughtful expression. "I was… curious what would happen," he said, looking Hannibal in the eye once more before smiling.

Hannibal smiled back, the first real one Will has ever seen from him, like he removed his mask just for him. "And what do you plan to do with this information?"

"I don't know. What do you think I should do, Dr. Lecter?" Will said, lacing his fingers together and resting his hands over his stomach.

"I think you're playing a dangerous game, Will," Hannibal said without any animosity. He said it like it was friendly advice.

"We're both playing the same game here. Why am I the one in danger?" Will said, his voice starting to lose its friendliness.

"Because you're playing with only half of the pieces and are sure to lose," Hannibal replied with a little more ice in his tone. He stood up, straightening his jacket and walked over to his desk. "I suggest you forfeit now. Forget everything you think you know and leave. We never have to cross paths again."

Will stood up and turned to face him, walking around the chair so that only Hannibal's desk stood between them. "I'm not forfeiting anything. I have more pieces than you seem to think, Chesapeake Ripper."

Hannibal frowned, staring down at his desk as he laid his hand on it. He looked sad for a brief moment. "That is… deeply unfortunate."

Will was about to speak when he saw Hannibal grab something off the desk before launching himself over it. He stood there, stunned, for a long moment before he realized he needed to move or he was going to die. Instinctively, he dodged to his right just as Hannibal landed on his feet on the other side of the desk. He saw a glint of silver in Hannibal's hand, a scalpel he kept to sharpen his pencils. Hannibal lunged at him and Will slid back, moving around the chairs before he picked one up, holding it with the legs out like a shield.

"You are remarkable," Hannibal said as he advanced on Will, staring at him as though he were already dead. "In another life, you could've been so much more."

"I'm content with the life I have," Will said, struggling to keep the chair up as he backed away from Hannibal's advances. "With the life I had. Before you."

"Is that all you wanted out of your life? A teaching job? To exist alone with your dogs until you wither away?" Hannibal said as he reached out with his free hand and yanked the chair away from Will, leaving him exposed. "I had a plan for you."

"I don't know if you noticed, but I'm not interested," Will said, sounding confident but panicking on the inside. "I love my job. And I'm not alone."

He reached slowly into his pocket for his phone and pulled it out, keeping it from Hannibal's sight. He just needed to distance himself enough to be able to send one text. After a quick glance around him, he ran for the ladder up to the loft area and jumped, catching a rung halfway up. He moved to pull himself up the rest of the way when he felt a hand clamp around his right foot and an excruciating pain in his left ankle.

"But you are alone," Hannibal said as he tried to drag Will down. "The one person you were meant to be with is dead."

Will nearly lost his grip but he held on, trying to pull his body up even though Hannibal still had a grip on him. He felt the scalpel as it slid out of his flesh and the blood as it leaked from the wound. Even though that leg was wounded, he kicked out with it wildly until he connected with Hannibal's head, causing him to let go of his other foot. He pulled himself up the rest of the way at great speed, running on adrenaline to the point that the pain he felt drifted away.

"Yeah, about that," he said as he ran across the loft floor, bringing up Alana's number to text her. "I lied. Frederick is alive."

He ran to the end, hitting the wall, typing out three letters before hitting send. N – O – W. He exhaled, the tense muscles in his back relaxing slightly, when he felt a hand on his back slam him hard into the wall, causing him to drop the phone. Hannibal turned him around so that they were looking each other in the eye. With a loud crunch, Hannibal's foot crushed his phone before kicking it away from both of them.

"So you've done all of this for him? How noble. An insignificant rat like him isn't worth the effort," Hannibal said as he pressed a hand to Will's cheek, cradling the side of his face.

"It wasn't just for him. It was for everyone you haven't killed yet," Will spat, knocking his arm away and punching him as hard as he could in the face.

Hannibal staggered back, momentarily stunned, but as Will tried to run around him, he hooked an arm around his waist and threw him back into the wall. The air left Will's lungs from the force of the impact and a second later, he felt the cool metal scalpel slide into his gut. He gasped reaching out and grasping Hannibal's shoulder for support before he realized what he was doing.

"I admire your courage, Will," Hannibal said softly at his ear as he dragged the blade carefully along his abdomen. "But it won't help you here."

Will wanted to scream, he felt like it should have been appropriate given the situation, but he couldn't make a sound. He couldn't even really feel the pain, not yet anyway. He could feel the warm blood gush from his gut onto his right arm as he pressed it against the wound. He wrapped his hand tightly around Hannibal's wrist, trying to stop him from moving the blade further. Hannibal fought against him, but Will's hand was like a vice grip, so he let go of the scalpel instead and stepped away, letting Will slide down the wall to the floor.

Exhaustion and a sweeping coldness hit him as he sat sprawled on the floor, blood pooling underneath him as he tried to keep his insides in. He stared up at Hannibal with hatred in his eyes and heart while Hannibal looked something along the lines of heartbroken.

"Was it worth it?" Hannibal said, sounding curious rather than spiteful.

Will leaned his head back and closed his eyes, wanting to sleep, when he heard a commotion in the waiting room. They both turned to look just as the office door was kicked down and Will started to laugh, weak and hysterical. "Yes. It was worth it."

FBI agents poured into the room, holding up their weapons as they scanned the area until they spotted the both of them up on the loft. Every gun trained on Hannibal just as Jack walked inside, looking furious. Hannibal smiled at Will, his face lighting up with pride as Will struggled to stay conscious. He gave himself up with grace, climbing down the ladder where he was manhandled into handcuffs.

"Dr. Hannibal Lecter, you're under arrest for the attempted murder of Will Graham and conspiracy to murder Dr. Frederick Chilton," Jack said as he stood in front of Hannibal, mere inches away, with anger in his expression and tone.

Will closed his eyes then, feeling like sleep would be a good idea, but the footsteps thundering toward him kept him from doing so. The next minute, he was being lifted by several pairs of hands and this time he did scream as pain ripped through his abdomen. They set him down and strapped him into a gurney, trying to keep him as level as possible as they carried him down the ladder. He gritted his teeth through the pain until he was back on solid ground and they wheeled him easily out of the building.

Once outside, he was nearly plowed over by Alana who stopped just short of his gurney, walking in time with the paramedics. "Will, oh my god. Oh my god," she said, clearly in shock.

"I know," Will said drowsily. "It was a stupid idea. But it worked."

"It was. It was a very stupid idea," she shouted over the sirens. "Did you know this was going to happen?"

"I thought… I might get stabbed?" Will said, still holding his arm over his gut, feeling all of the blood flow out of him as he grew more and more tired. "Didn't think he'd… do this."

"Will! Stay awake," Alana said, gripping his hand tightly enough to distract from his other pain. "You can't die."

He groaned as he was jostled into the back of the ambulance and Alana was back a moment later, holding onto his hand. "I'm not gonna die, Alana."

"He lost a lot of blood but it's a clean wound, easy to stitch," a blonde, female paramedic chimed in as the ambulance headed out to the hospital.

Somewhere along the way, as he listened to Alana's constant stream of words like a trail to follow back to consciousness, he passed out. He had no idea how long he was out, but when he woke up, he was in a hospital room, hooked up to a heart monitor with an IV in his arm. He shifted a little, wincing from the pain, before he lifted up his hospital gown to look at the stitched up wound on his gut. The line was nearly straight along his stomach, stopping a little over halfway across, through his bellybutton. He traced it with his finger gently, staring with morbid fascination, until he heard footsteps coming closer, prompting him to cover himself and pull his blanket up.

The footsteps paused not far into the room and Will glanced over to see a curtain separating him and whoever he shared the room with. After a moment, they continued until Alana stepped around the curtain with a cup of coffee in hand. She looked surprised to see him awake but as soon as he smiled at her, she smiled back. She sat down in a chair to his left and held his hand.

"So, back in the hospital again," Will said with a smirk.

"It's like you're determined to live here or something," Alana said. She smiled but she sounded exasperated.

"Well, I do get a bed and attendants to bring me three meals a day, but I have a feeling the bills I'm accruing far outweigh my current mortgage," Will replied. "What happened after we left? Do you know?"

Alana glanced down at her coffee for a moment. "They arrested Hannibal, booked him, he's currently at the Baltimore State Hospital awaiting trial. They have him on the two counts Jack charged him for, but the FBI is looking into the possibility that he's the Ripper. He hasn't spoken a word to anyone since they put handcuffs on him."

"No? That doesn't seem like him," Will said, tracing the line of his wound through the blanket. "I thought once he was caught, he'd want everyone to know that that Ripper's artworks belonged to him."

Alana nodded, fidgeting with the lid of her cup. Will watched her carefully, noticing the tension and nervousness in her behavior. "What is it that you're not telling me?"

She sighed, not wanting to meet his eye. "Well, Hannibal hasn't spoken to anyone except to request to see you."

Will tensed up, the thought of ever seeing him again making him feel ill.

"Please tell me you're not thinking of going," Alana pleaded, meeting his eyes.

Will shook his head. "I'm not. I never want to see him again."

She visibly relaxed at his words and he squeezed her hand comfortingly. "Thank god."

"God has nothing to do with it. This scar I'll have for the rest of my life definitely does, though," Will said, absently touching it again. He didn't hate it and he wasn't disgusted by it. It was just there, a newly formed part of him. "Have you heard anything about Frederick?"

Alana brightened, a smile on her face. "About that, he's out of the ICU, completely stabilized," she said as she set down her cup, stood up, and walked over to the curtain.

She grabbed the end and pulled it all the way back, revealing Frederick's sleeping form, one arm protectively wrapped around his abdomen while the other lay at his side. Will lurched up into a sitting position, hissing from the pain, but he ignored it. He was about to move out of the bed when Alana pushed him back down onto it.

"You just got those stitches in, you need rest," she reprimanded.

He barely heard her words, still staring, watching as Frederick's chest rose and fell with his slow, rhythmic breaths. "Has he woken up yet?"

"The nurses said he's had a few moments of lucidity, but none since you were put in a room together," Alana said, sitting on the edge of his bed. "They said he'll probably wake up soon. I'm sure you two have a lot to talk about."

"Yeah," Will said with a harsh laugh. "That's an understatement. He's going to be upset when I tell him what I did."

"I'm sure he'll just be happy you're both alive," Alana said. "I know I am. But I have to be going. I can't babysit the both of you all day."

"You've been checking in on the dogs, though, right?" Will said, concerned.

"Of course," she said, squeezing his hand before standing up. "You can have that coffee there if you want it. I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you," Will said with a smile as she left the room.

He laid back in the bed with a sigh, watching Frederick as he slept, hoping he would wake up so they could talk. There was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to account and apologize for. He wanted to hold his hand, kiss him, but if sharing the same hospital room was as close as they would get for a while, he was grateful for that.

Hours passed and Will fell in and out of sleep without much else to do. The small television bolted into the wall didn't carry much entertainment for him and he just wanted to pass the time. At around eight at night, Will heard rustling to his right, startling him from a light sleep. He slowly sat up, moving in small increments so he didn't cause himself too much pain. A low groan rumbled in Frederick's chest as he moved slightly.

"Frederick?" Will said softly.

"Hm?" Frederick replied, turning his head. He blinked a few times, clearing away the blurriness of sleep. "Will?"

"How are you feeling?" he said, concerned.

"Um, thirsty?" he said, trying to sit up as well but gasping in pain. He collapsed back onto the bed and Will nearly leapt out of his.

Will fumbled with the remote attached to his bed and pressed the nurse call button. A few moments later, a young nurse with matching chocolate brown hair and eyes walked in, looking tired but concerned.

"What's wrong?" she asked, looking at Will who was still holding the remote control.

"Not me. Him," Will said pointing at Frederick who still looked like he was in pain.

She rushed to his side and lifted up his hospital gown to check on his wound. It was the first time Will had seen it and it chilled him. It was vertical up his stomach, a precise line held close by stitches like his own. He didn't get more than a glimpse before she covered him back up, satisfied he hadn't ripped any stitches.

"Don't move so quickly next time," she chastised as she pressed a button on his morphine drip. "Do you need anything?"

"Some water might be nice," he said, sounding like the pain was easing off.

She left and returned a moment later with a glass of water before leaving again. He drank greedily from the glass until it was nearly empty, setting it down when his thirst was satiated. He laid back in the bed, resting a minute before he seemed to remember that Will was in the room. Frederick turned to him with a confused expression, looking him over.

"Why are you here, Will?" Frederick said, sounding a little panicked. "What happened?"

"It's a long story," Will said, wincing as he turned a little on the bed to face him. "I should probably start it with the good news and say that Hannibal Lecter is behind bars. He's the one who told Gideon to hurt you like that. I couldn't let him get away with it."

Frederick looked stunned. "And the bad news?"

Will's eyes dropped to his lap before he lifted up his hospital gown. "Matching scars?"

"WILL!" Frederick said, his voice strained with worry.

"It's okay," he said reassuringly. "I'm okay. It was worth it."

"How?" Frederick said incredulously as he fiddled with the bed remote until he was in a propped up position. "How is being cut open worth it?"

"Going into a full investigation would've taken ages. More people would've died, he would've gone after you again once he found out you were still alive. This was more efficient. I caught him by letting him try and kill me," he said with a smile that looked more pained than amused. "The FBI caught him in the act and he'll be incarcerated for a long time. Even longer once they find evidence he was the Chesapeake Ripper."

Frederick gasped, nearly choking on the air. "He's the what?"

"The Ripper. It makes sense, though, when you think about it," Will said, lying back down when he started to feel an ache in his abdomen.

"…I suppose. Still," Frederick rubbed his eyes. "This is all too much."

"It's a lot of information, but the important part is that it's over and we're both safe," Will said.

They both lay in silence for a few minutes as Will allowed Frederick to process everything. He tried to process it himself, going over the events of the past few days in his mind. He felt guilty for a lot of what happened, for not believing Frederick, for going back to Hannibal even though he felt something was off about him. He may have an empathy disorder, but he also had some poor judgment, especially recently.

"So, you believe I didn't manipulate you now?" Frederick said weakly.

Will turned his head toward him. "I do. I should have when you told me. I'm so sorry. If I'd been there, a lot of this might've been prevented."

"Maybe. But we don't have a time machine. And I don't blame you, Will. You couldn't have known, the way he was fucking with your head. I blame him," Frederick said, his heart rate rising a little with his anger.

"I don't understand how you can forgive me so easily," Will said like a sigh as he stared up at the ceiling.

"There's nothing to forgive. Except the fact that you destroyed my lawn with your car, but it's already fixed," Frederick said.

Will laughed, but the laughed turned to a groan as it tugged on his stitches. "I love you," he said softly, turning back to Frederick. "I lied before when I said it past tense. Even when I thought you'd used psychic driving on me I still loved you."

"I love you too, Will," Frederick said and he could feel his affection so deeply that it made him smile.

"You know, I thought it would be more difficult than this. Weeks of reconciliation," Will mused.

"Do you want me to give you the silent treatment? I can do that. I've been silent for several days."

"Because you were sleeping," Will said

"That doesn't count?"

Will stifled his laughter and he could hear Frederick do the same until he hissed in pain. "Maybe we should actually rest," Will said as the ache in his gut intensified.

"Perhaps…" Frederick said, sounding tired. "I can't believe you got yourself gutted to protect me. You're so… stupid."

"It wasn't just for you," Will said with a yawn. "But yes, I've been told it was stupid."

He waited for Frederick to respond, but Will knew he wouldn't as he heard his breathing even out. He relaxed in the bed, as uncomfortable as it felt compared to his bed at home, and closed his eyes, feeling Frederick's contentment. He fell asleep soon after and slept a lot easier knowing that he was forgiven and that he and Frederick would be able to continue their lives in peace once they both had healed.