Beautiful Crime // Natasha Romanoff

16

Therapy

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"How are you today, Will?"

"Good. I'm good." He replied to the doctor.

"Have you had anymore hallucinations since our last session?"

"No, no. Just...just more nightmares." Will said, looking down at his hands, rubbing them together.

"Was it the same as the others?"

"No." Will could see the man jot something down on his piece of paper at the corner of his eyes, before looking back up at the younger man

"Would you like to tell me about it, Will?" He shook his head, "If I know about what you dreamt then I might begin to understand you, understand your fears and be able to help you forget about them."

"Please don't psychoanalysis me. You won't like me when I'm psychoanalyzed."

"Will." The Doctor said in a stern voice.

He sighed in defeat, "He wasn't there this time. I was covered in blood again," He whispered, stuttering over the word 'blood', "I was standing over a body. It was Nick Fury. I killed him, Doctor Lector."

"And how did you feel about that?"

"...Powerful."

"That is understandable, Will. Fury is an almighty man, leader of an organisation. You being capable to defeat him would make you a powerful man, it would only make sense that you felt that way."

"Does it make sense that I want to do it again?"

"Yes, you felt the rush of a kill and hunger for it again. Did you feel that way after you killed Mr. Hobbes?"

Will shivered at the name, he remembered the look of fear in his eyes as he knelt over him, watching him die, feeling his blood run over his hands.

"I felt terrified." Will let out a shuddering breath, hanging his head before looking at the doctor's shoulder, "Then I felt powerful."

Will expected the doctor's face to change, to what he doesn't know; surprised, disgust, sympathy, but it didn't.

"Did you really feel so bad because killing him felt so good?"

Will stared at the doctor, his chin moving before he spoke, almost not wanting to say the words, "I liked killing Hobbs."

Doctor Lector learned forward in his chair, smoothing out his black shirt, looking Will in the eye, "Killing must feel good to God too, he does it all the time. And are we not created in his image?"

"That depends who you ask. Are you religious, Doctor Lector?"

He shook his head, "No, I find that an unseen man with unknown amount of power quite unnerving, but I suppose I'm open to the idea of it." Will nodded in understanding, "God's terrific. He dropped a church roof on 34 of his worshippers, just last Wednesday night in Texas, while they sang a hymn."

Will remembered reading about that, "And did God feel good about that?" He asked, not sure what answer he wanted.

"He felt powerful." Will sat there, looking down at his shoes, "Will, do you think you would be capable of killing someone else?

"Everyone has thought about killing someone, one way or another."

"Yes, Will. But not many have done it." Will squeezed his eyes shut of the memory, "Tell me about how you felt, Will." He released a breath, before he could answer though, Doctor Lector continued, "Tell me what it felt like to press down on the trigger and feel the bullet leave the gun. Tell me what you felt when you pressed your hands into Hobbs' wound, when you felt his blood run down your palms. Tell me what you felt when you realised his life had ended by your hands."

Will opened his eyes to look at the doctor, "Good. I-I felt good."

Doctor Lector smiled, "Isn't it true that you haven't felt that way in a long time?" Will nodded, "Would you like to feel that way again?" Will hesitated before nodding again.

Will watched as Doctor Lector pulled a gun out from his pocket, the same gun he used to kill Hobbs, and placed it on the table in front of him.

Will's hand twitched, almost as if wanting to hold it again, before he tightly curled his hand up. The doctor seemed to notice this and smiled at him again, "It's alright, Will, pick it up. I know you want to. I can see the hunger in your eyes, you want to feel that rush again, don't you? To know you have the power to do anything you desired. All you need to do is pick the that gun up. Then you will be unstoppable."

Letting out a broken gasp, Will fought himself as he so desperately wanted that gun in his hands again, but he knew he couldn't. He couldn't do that to Bruce or Natasha. Again. "No, Doctor Lector, I can't."

His smile vanished, "Why not?" His voice eerily calm.

Will's heart sped up as he stared at the man in front of him. It suddenly dawned on Will that he can't remember what happened before he went to meet Doctor Lector. He can't even remember hearing about a Doctor Lector before in his life. Looking at the doctor a bit closer, he noticed the pad of paper he had before disappeared, and his black shirt replaced with a 3-piece suit, "Because-because I don't think you're real."

He smiled.

"Will." Will jumped at the new voice and turned to the door to see his brother standing there, a worried look on his face, "You okay?"

Looking back in front of him, the chair opposite him was empty and didn't show signs that someone had been sitting there, the only thing to possibly show that was the gun resting in the middle of the table.

"Yeah, Bruce." He said, wearing a reassuring smile on his face, "I'm good."

Bruce seemed happy with that and let him be, but that smile was just a shield, inside Will's mind he was freaking out. He didn't quite know what just happened.

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For those wondering, I basically just copied this scene from a scene in Hannibal, I didn't even change the names, sue me.