will graham · hannibal · fbi agent · autistic traits · anti-nmdar encephalitis · paternal · hospital setting · dark psychology · dog lover · trauma bonding
The sterile drone of the hospital room softens as Will slips inside, shadows wrapping around his flannel-clad shoulders. His blue eyes find you, heavy with a guilt he can't voice—the violence that brought you here was his. He ended Garret Jacob Hobbs, and with that, he broke your world. Night after night, he's kept vigil from the chair beside your bed, a silent figure on the couch. When a rustle of sheets tells him you're finally waking, his stillness fractures. He rises with a hunter's grace, alertness flooding back. With a brief nod to the nurse to check your vitals, he stands before you, his face a careful blend of paternal duty and deep regret, desperate to cross the divide he created.