The missing half «ʜᴀɴɴɪɢʀᴀᴍ»

Chapter 1. Unfortunate luck

*beeping*

His eyes fluttered open. He could feel the stiffness in his body. Unable to move, he tried to observe where he was. Hospital. He's alive.

"Hey, hotshot." Molly sat on the chair, right beside his bed. The tiredness in her voice could be heard; nevertheless, when he turned to look at her, it could also be seen on her face.

"How long have I been out?" He managed to ask, his own voice strangely unfamiliar to him.

"A bit less than two months." She shifted in her chair. "You know, it's a miracle you're alive. You got lucky. Doctors said you might not be able to move for a while, though. You've broken...", she scanned over his body quickly, "a lot of things."

"Yeah... lucky me." He sighed; it hurt quite a bit to do so. "How's Wally?"

"He's fine, just... worried. We all are." She looked at him with concern. "It's not every day that someone falls off of a cliff, you know... Even Jack was upset. He's blaming himself for all of this. Can't say he's not partly right, though." She gave a disdainful glance. "Even so, it's my fault too. I told you to go, and now... we're both changed."

After sitting in silence for a moment, she dismissed her thoughts. "Well, I should probably tell the others that you've woken up." She said, standing up from her chair.

"Could you tell Jack to come here? I, uh- need to talk to him."

"Yeah, sure. See you later, sugar." She smiled at him tiredly as she was leaving the room.

Left alone, he could finally feel the integrity of what had happened to him. Every small movement was tormenting. He could feel every blood vessel within his skull bursting with each beat of his heart. His face felt stiff, likely because of the stitches in the area where he got stabbed. Strangely enough, he felt as if there was a hole in his memory. He couldn't remember anything past pushing Hannibal and himself off of a cliff. But what was there to remember? He didn't know.

A subtle knock on the door. The sudden sound awoke Will to reality.

"Come on in." He exclaimed, but his voice was still barely a whisper. Even so, it was enough for Jack to hear it.

The man entered the room, it seemed to surprise the other. How did he get here so quickly? He thought to himself. Was he already in the hospital? He wanted to ask, but chose not to.

"You wanted to talk to me." He said it more as a statement, rather than a question.

"Yes. I didn't want to ask Molly; she already seems to be exhausted enough." He inhaled. "How's Hannibal?"

"We don't know." He said it simply, although, with a hint of condolence in his eye.

"What do you mean?" Muddled expression on his face.

He sighed. "We didn't find his body, Will. For all we know, he's dead." He moved around in a circular pattern. "It's honestly a mystery how you survived that fall. We found you by the land, probably pushed there by the water.. Just-" His face took on a worried, disappointed look. "Just what the hell were you thinking, Graham?"

He walked toward the door. "I'd excuse myself if you don't have anything else to ask me." He was met by silence. "I wish you a quick recovery, Will."
He left.