Fortune's Fool (Hannibal Fanfiction)

II: On the Road

The first thing Will did after he left Quantico was call Doctor Alana Bloom. He knew it was a cowardly move — she would be in her office, and she was going to be teaching his classes for him. The least he could do was ask her to take care of his dogs in person. But after their last encounter...well, there was a very good reason he didn't want to see her face-to-face or be in a room alone with her.

It was embarrassing, really. Alana was a kind, intelligent, and beautiful woman and a great colleague, but it hadn't been until the Hobbs case and Abigail's subsequent hospitalization that they had really talked much or even been alone in a room together. Will had awkwardly flirted with her for weeks, and just when he'd thought that he might be getting somewhere, she'd stopped by his house and caught him at the tail end of an auditory hallucination. Will had taken a hammer to his chimney and fireplace, certain that he'd heard the scratching of an animal trapped in there, only to come up empty. When he saw her face, he just knew that she'd realized that there hadn't been an animal. That it had all been in his head. So he'd kissed her, and she had rejected him. Looking back on it, it made sense why she had, but he'd been so off-balance, hurt, and confused that he'd driven over an hour in the snow to tell Hannibal about it.

It hadn't been one of Will's brightest moments. Thankfully, Hannibal hadn't made him feel stupid for it, although he had seemed a little exasperated. But the whole situation definitely made Will reluctant to see Alana again. He was already bad at socializing, so he could imagine this would be a thousand times worse. He didn't want to see the pitying but curious look in her eyes, as if he were a lab specimen being studied for his interesting mind, something to feel bad for but also to keep at arm's length. He didn't want to have the awkward conversation about how she still cared about him or how she would consider dating him if he was more stable or any of that bullshit. He didn't want to think about it. It would just make him feel all the more lonely and isolated.

So instead he called her.

Will waited to dial Alana's cell until he was on the highway, and she picked up after the third ring, concern coloring her voice.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Alana, it's Will Graham. Sorry for the late notice, but Jack's put me on a new case and I need someone to look after my dogs while I'm gone. Would you be able to do that?"

"Of course." Alana's tone was warm, maybe overly so — or was he reading into it? — and Will gripped the steering wheel harder than necessary before taking a deep breath and loosening his grip.

"Thanks, Alana. I appreciate it."

"No problem."

A long silence stretched between them. Will ran a hand across his beard and tried to think of something, anything, to say. He settled on: "And thanks for teaching my classes while I'm gone."

Alana's voice had a touch of wry amusement to it. "You're welcome. I think Jack would have a fit if I didn't."

Will chuckled. Silence unfolded between them again, impossible to bridge. Finally, he began, "Look, Alana, I'm sorry —"

"No, don't," she said quickly. "I'm sorry, too. I was unprofessional. I...I gave you mixed signals because I was confused about my feelings."

A sharp surge of bitterness stabbed through him. Before he could stop himself, he said icily, "And now you're no longer confused?"

He regretted it instantly when he heard Alana's sigh on the other end and imagined the pained look on her face. He gripped the steering wheel tighter as she said carefully, "Will, please don't make this harder than it needs to be. We've already talked about this. I want to be your friend, and it's not that I'm uninterested, but my...professional curiosity would get in the way of a healthy, functioning relationship."