Thanks goes to everyone who reviews, I really appreciate it. And feel free to send me prompts if you like, but PM me or I'll unfortunately forget
~JM
Anonymous asked you:
Hello! I don't know if you take prompts, but If you find the time, can you please write a fic where everything becomes too much for Will and he tries to kill himself (slitting his wrists?) but somebody (Alana?) finds him and he wakes up in a hospital with Hannibal holding his hand just like he did with Abigail when she was in a coma and they talk things out and maybe Jack and Alana and Abigail come see him in the hospital... sorry this sounds so demanding. Thank you for reading! have a nice day
He could hear them, the dogs, scratching and yapping fearfully on the other side of the bathroom door at the smell of blood. Blood that seeped from gaping wounds similar to mouths crying out like the screams of his imagined victims. It spread across the floor, soaking the bottom of his pants and filling his noise with its vague metallic scent.
His father's old pearl handle straight razor was still in his hand, though limply held. His thumb brushed the smooth and stained surface but he couldn't feel it. The tips of his fingers had gone numb and the sound of the dogs was dying out to be replaced by the slowing beat of his heart. His eyelids grew heavy and Will savored the disappearance of corpses reaching for him, of dead eyes staring at him.
Alana heard the wild howling of dogs from outside and her brow furrowed in a mixture of worry and confusion. Then she found herself running. Despite the churning of her gut telling her something was wrong, she found the front door open and went through the house calling Will's name with frantic hurry. Finally, she came to the bathroom and the door was closed but the faint smell of blood emanated from beneath the door.
"Will?" She hesitantly opened the door, a hand flying to her mouth to stifle a half cry half sob at the sight of a bloodied Will.
She fell to her knees, gathering Will onto her lap. Blood made her grip slick but she used her scarf to put pressure on the lacerations and, with hands violently shaking, managed to pull her phone from her jacket pocket. Will's eyes are half mast and he looks at her with a blank stare, lips moving without sound.
Will woke to the steady beats of the heart monitor. His arms were heavy and plagued with a burning ache and an intense need to scratch. In his hand was a warm weight. And when he opened his eyes, Will found Hannibal sleeping at his bedside. The doctor pillowed his head on his arm as he held Will's hand, the other hand resting on the profiler's leg.
At Will's awakening, Hannibal stirred. He glanced at Will with tired eyes before he sat up and took a heavy breath. But before he could even open his mouth, Alana was in the doorway, whispering Will's name with a conflicting mix of anger and hurt. She went to wrap her arms around his neck and smooth down wayward curls like a mother might.
"Alana." Hannibal rose to his feet and grasped her hand. "Please," he said as they locked eyes.
She pressed her lips in a thin line, wanted to object but gave Will's shoulder a brief squeeze before she left them alone.
Will swallowed against a dry throat, the inside of his mouth tasting of a long sleep and his tongue felt heavy. "Did I…?" He stared down at bandaged forearms but his mind moved too sluggishly to comprehend.
Hannibal sat on the edge of the bed but kept his eyes on the window. "A suicide attempt requires hospitalization until that person is no longer deemed a threat to themselves. But I'm certain you are aware."
"I wasn't…I don't want you to think…" Will blinked, feeling even more vulnerable without his glasses. "I can't tell what's real; I don't even know if this is. I don't know what I'm doing anymore. Everything's mixing together, like it's all bleeding together and I can't….Looking is killing me."
Hannibal exhaled slowly, patiently. "I was available. You could have called, came to me. I would have come to you if you asked."
"You have other patients, other things to worry about."
"You think you're too much of a burden for me to worry over?" Hannibal met Will gaze for as long as the profiler could stand it. "In truth, I think of you often and wonder how I could better help you. Unfortunately, it seems I've failed tremendously."
Will was silent for a second and just as he was going to disagree, Hannibal rose to his feet.
"Abigail and Jack have been waiting for you to wake. I should get them."
"Wait, please," Will pleaded softly. "I don't want to see them yet. It's easier with you."
"Because I won't judge," Hannibal replied. "They won't think any less of you, and you'll have to see them eventually."
"But for right now, can you just sit with me?"
Hannibal moved to take his seat on the plush hospital chair. "Of course. This is your time, Will. I'll be here as long as you need."
Will hesitated to ask for something more. He pressed his lips in a thin line and swallowed the question as he stared out the window at the busy highway. And after a few seconds ticked by, he felt Hannibal's hand hold his.
