A bastards design

Squid

Will looked at Hannibal with a dumbfounded expression at having the food suddenly taken from his hands, the surprise nearly stopping him from breaking down altogether.

"I- What did you just say?"
"I said stop it, why did you eat when you clearly didn't enjoy it?"
"I Uh..." Will stammered as he felt his cheeks start to burn red with embarrassment, which was only exacerbated when Hannibal calmly brushed his unkempt hair out of his face.
"Was it the squid?"
Will nodded, feeling too humiliated to say anything, Hannibal gave an understanding look and popped the lid back onto the intricate ceramic bowl.

"Well, I know not to make you squid, would you like anything different for lunch? I have sausage and eggs, would you prefer that? I presume that will be more appetising"
"M-Mhm"
Hannibal nodded and passed the spare container over to Will and opened it, casually watching for the other mans reaction. Will eyed the food carefully and glanced up at Hannibal, who to him looked almost excited at watching him eat, he hesitantly put the food in his mouth, watching Hannibals face turn to one of content, as if seeing Wills body not try vomiting up his lunch made him... happy, in some way.



Jack leant forward in his seat with anticipation when Dr. Lecter finally entered his office, manilla file in hand. He watched the doctor take his seat and slide the file towards him, Jack had considered bringing Will in to hear what Hannibal had to say, but decided against it, leaving him to focus on the bodies in the morgue.

"Mr. Graham is far more interesting than I had previously imagined, agent Crawford"
"And why is that?"
"We had a moment of learning from each other... when I had offered him lunch"
"And?"
"He has quite the issue with some foods, I gave him squid to try for lunch and it was as if as though I had fed the poor thing poison"
Jack looked at Hannibal incredulously, "So the guy doesn't like squid? Not many people do, hell, I’m not even a big fan of squid”
“Have you ever been reduced to tears or gagging from having it even just in your mouth though?”

Jack paused and looked at Hannibal, trying to even begin to fathom the possibility that Will could cry over something so... insignificant like a piece of squid. However, his thought was quickly interrupted by Beverly bursting into the room.

“Sorry to interrupt sir, but it’s Will”



“What do you mean ‘it’s Will’?” Jack demanded as Beverly led him and Hannibal down the corridor, “with him that could mean pretty much anything, what exactly is going on?”
“...That”

Jack looked over to where Beverly was pointing to find Will almost completely curled up into a ball in the corner of the room, arms wrapped around his head as if the ceiling were about to collapse in on him. Hannibal looked around the room in attempts to figure out the cause of the severe distress.

“What happened?”
“Well... he already was a bit upset over the new lights down here, we had changed them to fluorescents cause they last longer than the old ones, nearly threw a bloody fit over it when we installed them”
“And then?”
“We had the radio on while we were working and talking to each other, then all of a sudden Will freaks out, nearly takes his own fingers clean off from biting them, and he’s now sat like that, holding that weird fish thing”
“I suppose that makes things a little easier for me then... I’d like you to turn off the lights agent Crawford”

Jack watched as Hannibal sat next to Will before flicking the lights off, he had known that Will was a little uptight over his workspace, but he never would’ve imagined that the stress would’ve mounted to such a degree in such a short amount of time, but it seemed that it was able to break the camels back, and apparently he deemed it necessary to sit like that to recover. Not that Crawford would’ve cared, he was more than willing to do anything if it meant that Will was still able to help people.
Hannibal stood up and silently shooed the others into the hallway, leaving Will to sit in the dim room alone, probably to let him cool off Jack assumed.

“It seems my suspicions were correct” Hannibal mused, taking out his file from under his arm.
“Suspicions of what? That my best FBI profiler would be in the goddamn fetal position in the middle of the morgue? And for what? Because he doesn’t like the new lights?”
“Not just because he doesn’t like them... he can hear them, constantly from what I’m guessing. Add that on top of other people talking, and a radio playing on the background which no doubt, he can also hear the feedback from, you get a recipe for disaster, too much stimulation for the brain”
“You’re telling me that he can hear lights?”
“Absolutely, it’s very common in people diagnosed with ASD, I even helped work on a study about the causes”

Jack paused

“So you’re saying that Wills autistic?”
“There’s a possibility, I’d like to speak with him alone”



Will stirred from his position in the room, listening to the low voice in his ear, it was undoubtedly Hannibals, but he was far too tired and his brain too overloaded to notice or register that or the fact that they were both alone in the room together.

“May I?” Hannibal asked, earning a dejected grunt from Will, who promptly moved his head to the side, planting it on Hannibals shoulder for a little comfort, remembering all the times he would bury his face into his dogs fur the same way, it always felt to awkward to do the same with a human, but it was nice with the doctor. Will rolled his head slightly to look up at Hannibal to find him intently staring back.

“So mister psychoanalyst... tell me, what’s going on up inside my head?”
“You truly are a most fascinating person Will, I would like it if you attended some sessions in a more controlled environment like my office... that or I can observe you and your hobbies from your home?”
“I don’t need therapy”
“It’s not about figuring out what’s wrong with you Will, it’s about finding out how other peoples brains react to different environments... stresses”
“Isn’t that just the same thing?”
“I think it’ll be beneficial for you to have someone to talk to, that isn’t your colleague, and that’s where I come in as your psychiatrist. You can talk to me about anything at all, what you’re going through in your head... it’s not just you, you know, there are lots of men, women, or others out there that have similar problems. I’d like to help you connect with that”
“Okay, just... I’m not some freak show for you or anyone else to gawk at, got it?”
“You have my word.”


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