I walked slowly down the hallway to Hannibal's door. Going to these sessions wasn't something I looked forward to. That wasn't fully true, of course, as seeing Hannibal helped me calm down since I'd be able to get some of my thoughts out. I don't know how I'd describe my feelings for him, especially with Alana having been murdered not too long ago.
I knocked on the door and Hannibal opened the door quickly.
"How are you feeling today, Will?" He asked and I entered.
"How should I be feeling?" I asked.
"Every one handles grief differently." He replied and we went to sit in our usual places.
"Yeah." I replied and tried to think about which direction I wanted this session to take. "But what about me specifically?"
"You are pure empathy and so Alana's death will linger on you more than another person."
"You mean someone normal and stable?"
"There is nothing concrete that can be said to be normal and you are stable enough to work on cases."
"Nothing concrete." I said and looked around Hannibal's office. So different from my house, but it felt like a type of home to me recently. It was orderly and I needed order in my life right now. I had lost track of time recently and that scared me. But not enough to want to tell Hannibal as he could tell Jack. And the last thing I needed was Jack to stop me from doing my job. I needed to help people, that's the only way I could keep up any pretense type of normality. "But there must be a way to measure insanity."
"There is a way to tell if someone poses a threat to others." Hannibal replied stiffly. "But insanity is much harder to define."
"What about being social?" I asked.
"Many sane people just don't like the company of others. Introverts are not less sane than extroverts purely because of their nature."
"How social are you?"
"I don't have many friends as I don't see them as being interesting. I don't find the need to be with others merely to give myself worth."
"And you find me interesting?"
"Very interesting." He said and a slight grin graced his face for a second. Some part of me was intrigued and I didn't know which part or why. "Do you keep up with friends since Alana died?"
I felt like slumping down but kept my posture. Not out of fear of disrespecting Hannibal, but I didn't want to admit to myself how broken I felt now.
"I spend time with you and Abigail. I communicate with Jack enough for each case." I paused thinking of her face. The face that didn't provide stability like Alana had, but was all I had right now. "There is also Beverly Katz."
"What is special about her?" Hannibal asked. I attributed his odd tone to concern for me. I was both his friend and patient. He'd also have to tell Jack if he messed up with me.
"I don't know. She treats me like an actual person and not just an oddity."
"And you don't have enough of that from people?"
"No." I said and smiled sadly.
"Are you sure Beverly has the best of intentions?"
"What do you mean?" I was confused. "It isn't like Beverly to seek something from me."
"When did you start noticing how important Beverly was to you?"
"I've always noticed, but after Alana died she-"
"Was someone to replace Alana." Hannibal leaned forward. "Beverly is not Alana, nor will she ever be. You can't be with someone just because you lost someone else."
"Have you ever lost someone close to you?"
Hannibal seemed to look past me to long before he went to medical school. For the first time I saw real pain in his face. Something that his strong exterior had never let break through.
Finally he composed himself and said, "I made sure those who were in the wrong were repaid with justice. And I can tell that you going into the arms of Beverly isn't going to help you."
"Because it's not going to bring Alana back." I said. "I killed Gideon but couldn't save Alana."
"You can help her now, even though she's dead."
"By breaking ties with Beverly?"
"By making sure you don't let your pain cloud your judgment."
"If I killed her that'd break all ties, right?" I asked and before I could let out a chuckle I realized what that thought could mean. How could I even let the thought form, much less speak it? The thought that killing Beverly could stop all this confusion was beyond sinful.
"You're thinking of murdering?" Hannibal asked.
"I don't know." I said honestly. "I keep thinking of Alana. When I close my eyes I can see her. When there is silence I can hear her. But she's not really there. And I keep thinking that if I killed someone to save another person that murder wouldn't be so bad."
"How would you decide if someone posed a danger to another's life?"
"I couldn't trust myself. Not fully, at least. I'd need to have someone decide for me." I looked Hannibal in the eyes. More than I had anyone else before. "I'd trust you to tell me."
"This is all hypothetical."
"Yes." I confirmed. But it didn't feel like a hypothetical situation to me.
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