maskormenacelogs | { 𝕒 } comorbidity

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{ 𝕒 } comorbidity

WHO: Abigail Hobbs + people
WHERE: In and around the Graham-Ludgate home; later Hook, Line & Tinker
WHEN: June 3rd and onward
WHAT: Prodigal daughter returns
WARNINGS: None

-

[ when abigail awakes in cape canaveral, she isn't incredibly upset. she's not home and home, bleeding out on the floor, would be deeply upsetting. she listens to the briefing this time, nodding and attempting to tuck her file in her back pocket before she realizes she was ported out and back in her pajamas. again. sigh. shoved outside into the real world, she smooths her hair down, tucking it behind her ear and adjusts her shorts and tee shirt. as much as she doesn't want to take public transportation when she is barefoot, she also doesn't want to walk so she catches the shuttle from the base to heropa.

if anyone stares at the pajama clad teenager on the bus, she doesn't notice, flipping through her communicator and sighing in relief and a little upset as she finds people she recognizes. will, april, mary, kate. dr chilton and john. teresa, grey. no freddie, which reminds abigail in a rush of one of her last memories, but no hannibal, no dr gideon. maybe that's her price.

she walks the rest of the way to the house, navigating mostly on muscle memory, before she pushes the door open without knocking, reaching up to pet the first raccoon who dangles down from his catwalk and tries to eat her hair. ]

Will? April? It's me.

[ baby's home.

later and the next day (and the day after, and the day after, and the day after, you see the pattern), a new feature can be found in the front yard of will and april's house, followed around by a fluffy cat and a couple of raccoons as she digs in the yard to finish the planting she promised to do months and months ago.

later still she winds up at the bait shop, nose wrinkled with how stuff has been moved around and sets about moving it back to where she had it. ]

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[ abigail rolls her eyes, he's never safe. there is a fair amount of disdain in those blue eyes, too. more than there needs to be, but she let herself trust chilton, like chilton, care about chilton, or at least his opinion of her and now she feels cheated again. another nice thing ripped from her grasp because she doesn't deserve nice things.

she huffs, relenting, and chugs some of the tea like a heathen. ] Raina. I think I need to dwell on Dr Chilton having a girlfriend for a while before I meet her so I don't stare.

[ she's just so anti-chilton for the next few minutes, it can't be beat! ]

[Will also chugs his tea like a heathen. Just not right now, because Abigail's words give him pause, turning his eyes to the raccoons as though to make sure their backs are turned. He is a married man (happily so) with the loyalty of that one sad stray dog who was picked up by someone genuinely kind and caring, someone he'll curl up with on the couch the same as he'll go flying out the front door in order to protect them from all things bad in this world. And there are so many bad things. UPS deliverers trying to walk away with the package that simply must be signed for, cave bears, cannibals...

But Raina is gorgeous and he is just a man.]

You might stare anyway. She's... [He's just a man, for God's sake.] ...exuberant.

[ she seems to read between the lines with another roll of her eyes. fucking men, tbh. ]

Pretty? She's pretty.

[Oops. Caught. As long as it's not by Eduardo, they're good to go, though.]

Very pretty. She had flowers...

[He lifts one hand to gesture around his head. He means hair. The word he is looking for is hair. Pretty is a hell of an understatement, good lord. Fucking men.]

I don't need you to paint me a picture, Will. [ the way she says "will" has the same undertone of exasperation that is common in teenage girls talking to their fathers. dad, you're being weird, cut it out. stop trying to twerk in front of my friends. ]

So moving on from Dr Chilton's girlfriend, please, anything else you wanted to talk to me about?

[Uhm he only twerks when he's drowning in the blood of three people and a ravenstag at once, it highlights his booty. Come on now.

The exasperated chastisement (is he being scolded?? Raina is hot he can't help that) snaps him back to, has him dropping his hand to take a chug of that sweet tea. Just like a heathen would, an exact mirror of how Abigail had done with hers.]

Freddie and Doctor Gideon are gone. [They went out in similar ways...he should tell Abigail about Freddie. He can't tell a soul about Gideon, and that's eaten at him somewhat since Crane dropped a few bombshells. If they're even true.] They've...stayed gone. It's just the three of us now.

[He should tell her. He really should.

She deserves to know. To find out from someone who cares. Someone who never killed Freddie Lounds, only lied about it.

...soon, he'll tell her soon.

Eventually.]

That's an unfortunate trio. The Shrike's daughter, the not actual Copy Cat who didn't actually kill her, the guy that kept him in a cage for it anyway. [ her nose wrinkles. of the three people from baltimore to survive, there's only one of them abigail would have chosen. (no offense, dr. chilton, but will wins. he saved her too many times.) ] We're cockroaches.

[He can't help laughing at that, brief but joyful instead of bitter. She's actually said something humorous, he isn't covering up repulsion. He's been in much worse company and lists before, he is more than fine with the three of them in the same sentence. It's also pointless to argue about how Chilton wasn't the one who kept in him a cage, necessarily. She knows, and she's rightfully upset with him at the moment. No one wins if he goes that route. No wins if Will corrects that by saying they're more like Twinkies, Hannibal taken into account. Can't escape that poison, and so:]

Not mosquitoes? [Bitey little shits that can transfer said poison, they bring plagues. The flattering comparisons are just nowhere to be found today.] Or bees? They can defend themselves, at least. Cockroaches just...run.

[Abigail called them all nasty, terrible insects. Trash. Crap people. Will is doing what he can to bump up her self-esteem by way of working with her summary. Queen bees, lady mosquitoes sucking people dry, she's still the best one of these three. And she can still bite back, he believes in her.

Even when she isn't real.]

You could be a bee, you at least try to help. Dr Chilton a mosquito, bloodsucking asshole. [ there's a smile, wry and at least knowing she's being overly harsh with chilton. HE JUST MAKES HER SO MAD. ] I'm a cockroach though. I am really hard to kill. They keep trying, and keep failing.

[ which should be a good thing, but will of all people knows how low abigail's self-worth really is. surviving is hard and it's exhausting and sometimes she just doesn't want to anymore. she always feels like she's constantly catching up and that's tiring, too. she just wants to be able to live for a while and not have to worry she might be murdered to prove a point or bring someone closer to another person. at least her dad tried to kill her because of her.

thanks, daddy.

she huffs, tucking her hair behind her ear. ] Maybe they'll get the memo and stop trying.

[ but she doubts that. otherwise will wouldn't have warned her away from jonathan crane. ]

[Will wishes they would, he honestly does. There is nothing in this world or any others he would not do to see to that Abigail was safe, and sound, and had a chance. A chance for something better. If that involved bloodying his hands further, so be it. He'd do it. He'd take life to give one to someone who had had hers taken so many times. He'd turn into a wild, feral mutt and rend anyone who dared touch her apart with his teeth if he had to, if he could. His expression darkens as she talks about her extremely terrible luck, eyes momentarily clouded by blood.

Hers.

His.

Jack Crawford's.

Sirens blaring, but perhaps just in his head. Perhaps his phone call went ignored. Perhaps the only help arriving was a police car to take Will Graham's ass to jail again. Perhaps the cops would come and by the time they called for an ambulance, everyone inside and outside was too far gone.

Perhaps that's how it would happen. Not only had Hannibal taken her life, again, because of Will, but the people who could potentially save her were held back, also because of Will.

This world is so much better.]

I'd hope so. [He's clenching that sweaty glass harsher than he needs to.] If anybody doesn't seem to get the memo, let me know.

[Anybody who doesn't do so in a public place where Will is obviously following every single thing Abigail Hobbs says and does. Anybody that Abigail feels takes too keen of an interest.

Will's been up to some poor behavior since he's been here, no doubt it. There are a group of people he's content to essentially act as a dog for. But there's only one person who can leash him almost completely, who can turn his nose in one direction and he'll narrow in, who can snap her fingers and set him off like a bomb in her defense, and she's the most beautiful person who ever existed even when her hair's disturbed by the placement of her sunglasses.]

[ that prompts her to roll her eyes, goodnatured and only slightly exasperated. ]

I'll let you know if anyone gets any ideas about stalking and murdering me in my sleep, but I'm not sure they're going to let me know prior to the murdering.

Well...you live with us now. One of the animals is bound to make it known if anybody's in the house and shouldn't be.

[He'd beat the ever-loving shit (and life) out of Randall Tier, who's only crimes to Will were to injure a dog and attack him. Anybody who came into their house for the sole purpose of taking away what Abigail had just by coming back, and didn't have an incredible set of powers to their name, was probably going to end up wishing they got the Randall Tier treatment.

gurl he ain't playin]

[ idk man. her room used to be on the second floor and she would climb out the window and across the roof and down the porch supports and ziggy didn't give a fuck when strange boys climbed through the window with her. (god forbid anyone use the door like normal people. port haven just got her into a habit.) now that she's on the first floor and the ground is only a few feet away...

well, naturally, she has no one to invite to climb through her window. (cough jeff cough.)

she shrugs, letting her hand fall to pick at the grass. ] It's me, Will. Who is going to try to murder me in my bed? That's too easy and anticlimactic. Not to mention impossible. Especially with you around.

[ she points a strand of grass at him. ]

It's going to be overly-dramatic and showy, in public, to prove a point, to you. None of Hannibal's subtlety.

[ because honestly, there's no reason to kill abigail because she's abigail. if she's ever going to be killed in this world it's going to be to mock will or prove a point to will or something, anything about will. she has no bearing on this world, but she does have bearing on will. and she knows it. she knows that her importance in the grand scheme of things is only weighted on her importance to will.

she knows.

and, frankly, she doesn't much mind; being a shining light in will's life isn't the worst thing to die for. ]

[Will Graham shuts his Goddamn mouth at that. His lips thin out, his nostrils flare, he goes through a range of emotions that are mostly "pissy of the fact that she has a good point" and "pissy of why she has a good point" but Will's not about to argue on this because it can just go so, so badly. Implying that Abigail is dumb (he would never) or somehow making her thing she's less important to him than she believes herself to be (she is everything, she is air and light and color and breath and life, she's divinity onto herself in the way that she's with him always), so the next best thing is...]

Anybody who even thinks it is an idiot and a coward. [His lips twitch, just enough to counter the absolutely awful conversation going on, to make it less grave and morbid. To take away some of the solemnity when Will hands his glass to a passing raccoon and shifts so he can lean forward and gently pluck that bit of grass from her and cover her hand with his own, much like once upon a time ago when things were better. Easier. On the surface, at least.] Look, Abigail. This doesn't have to be like the world we know, this is...something I never could have imagined. And I think, from what I've seen, it could be. Better. A lot better than what we've known and...we can be [ourselves] happy here without having to worry about. The other stuff.

[Hannibal.

Hannibal disliking that Will lied and making Abigail pay for his sins. He'd used the sins of her father to keep Will's mouth shut about a boy buried in the snow, and then he'd used the sins of Will Graham to condemn her. Who really compares to that, right? There haven't been any people mushroom gardens just yet...]

Keep it in mind?

[It's not that they can't discuss this sort of thing, not at all. It's just when Abigail starts presenting it as an inevitability, and one she's already accepted, that's when it starts to feel like it's about to turn into one of his less than pleasant nightmares.

One of his less than pleasant lunches alone at work, only he's not alone. He's talking to her ghost because he can't tolerate the thought she's gone, gone, gone forever from every world that's ever been.]

[ her mouth twists to the side, thoughtful, and very much like she doesn't want to give in. she doesn't understand better -- her craptastic, shitty life is what she's good at, it's what she knows. it's safe, inexplicably. when she tries to be normal, that's when everything breaks down. ]

Okay. [ it's begrudging, but it's there as she ducks her head, long hair falling forward around her face. ] I'll try.

[He lifts one hand to brush aside some hair that falls over her neck. It's hot enough as it is, hair getting stuck to a neck, even if that hair covers a scar, has got to suck. It's as far as he'll let himself go. He's father but not, and the mere idea of leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead or run a thumb over her cheek is absolutely mortifying.

The Shrike did those things. That's a given. But did the Ripper?

Will sealed her death warrant (didn't he? Why couldn't he have sealed his, too?), that's undeniable. Whether he knew he was doing it or not, he still did. And even though it was Hannibal's decision, even though Will couldn't have stopped that raging hurricane without being on the floor...

Reminding her of them too much is something he grapples with all the time. So small displays of fondness are fine, but anything too grand crosses a line, doesn't it? Not because they're technically unrelated (they're sure as shit blood related now, in his mind, for the rest of eternity), but because the last thing either of them need is for Will to be the Shrike. The Ripper.

Fucking hell, cannibals still ruin everything.]

That's all anyone can ask out of you.

[And if they ask for more, Will can put them on display in a museum or they can get buried under snow. Wait shit.]

[ she's pretty sure people can ask for more, they just won't because they're afraid of will. her fingers shift under his, twisting them together to squeeze his hand in acknowledgement. ]

I can feel you thinking. You're not saying anything, but you think so loud. [ she doesn't know what he is thinking, but it doesn't take a telepath to know that he is thinking. ]

[His nostrils flare, a huff of breath let out in the place of a laugh. Ding ding, she's a winner (winner winner, veal dinner). He looks down at their hands, thumb gently knocking against her. Busted.

He is so fucking grounded.]

I was just thinking about how much I love you, that's all.

[Well, it isn't a lie, and the actual smile that crosses his face when he looks back up at her, thumb stilled, is as sincere as they come.

A whirling storm of emotions courses through him on a basis, that's just the way of life for Will Graham. But with Abigail Hobbs present and very much alive, breathing, real, no fear their scars will soon open again and he'll be back on the kitchen floor with a hand slapping at her neck, this is all just a wonderful dream, one he wants to continue forever...

That's all he needs. Abigail serves as both motivation and peacemaker. She calms waters, even the ones she's helped to make somewhat treacherous.]

[ her heart flutters in her chest, feeling warm all over. she never forgot what it was like to be loved, her mother's love had been a balm that kept her safe and happy for so long that it made it all the more cruel to watch it being ripped away, but the feeling never left. it kept her company when days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months. the memory of her soft, off key singing replacing the classical music hannibal preferred as they prepared whatever meat was on the menu.

having been loved by a parent before only makes will's affection for her more... grounded. normal in a way it wasn't with hannibal because she was more of a tool, a weapon, a lure. his affection only extended so far, no matter how genuine he (and she) believed it to be.

will's seems boundless. ]

That's all? [ she's not sure she completely buys it, eyes lifting with the hint of a wry smile on her lips. is will capable of only one thought? she doesn't press, however, content with his answer and the little home he built and allowed her to stumble into and make a place for herself finally. ]

[Up goes one eyebrow at that question, as though he's having trouble understanding it or can't believe she'd even ask. Abigail thinks loudly, too. Or maybe that's just how he is with (most) everyone, but he'd like to think their connection is much much more than picking up on a stranger not saying what they mean or having had a hell of a day.]

That's all that matters.

[She can buy that, though. She can cash it in the bank. Literally, in the case of Will's wallet. His stance won't be changing on this, either. No luring, no tool to bring another person closer...just Abigail being alive and who she is.

That's enough.

That's all he needs.]

[ after a brief pause, abigail nods. ] Okay.

[ okay. that's all. the reassurance was all she needed. well, that and maybe more ice cream, but she can get that later. ]

Did you keep my fishing pole?

[ wanna go fishing, plaid dad? ]

[More ice cream, more sweet tea, more of anything her alluring little heart desires. Did he keep her fishing pole? Hah. Hah. Will went through her clothes and turned them in all sorts of odd shapes before he bundled them and took them back home. Some might have taken that as him just being so out of it with loss, regular functioning wasn't happening. Haphazard, to be expected. But as in most things Will tried to embark on, there was a design. A purpose.

Socks and shirts and jeans and everything else that he picked up and saw a bit of her hair clinging were turned into that hair. To protect it. So that if she never came back, he'd have a few strands of her hair. He'd been absolutely insane with grief and pain and had attempted to hide and keep the "shavings" of blood that the hospital in Heropa hadn't been able to fully get out of his nails upon arrival and tending to his wounds. Will didn't want to keep Abigail in a cage upon threat of death, but if she was nowhere to be found or might vanish at any time, he wanted to keep every part of her he could.

It was neither honorable nor healthy and Will could not give less of a shit. Desperate times.]

Sure did.

[He smiles, pulling his hands back to help him stand and taking his now not-quite-as-full-as-it-was-before glass from the raccoon who seems to have had enough of the tea, Will can have it back, thanks for sharing.]

We can go whenever you want.

[Right now, even.]

[ she doesn't get up right away, tipping her head to look all the way up at him as he stands. so tall. ]

Can we go right now?

[ she knows the answer before she finishes the question. he only says no if it's something he thinks will hurt her -- like running away to minnesota, which she did anyway, and was not a bad experience, for the record, though her reasons for going could have been better. a stupid boy saying a stupid thing doesn't warrant crossing state lines.

teenagers, so dramatic. ]

[Maybe you're just short, Abigail!!!

But no, she doesn't have to ask. That she does, though, gets a smile out of him, wiping the bits of dirt stuck to his hands off on his pants like a heathen. Classless swine everywhere.]

I'd love to go right now.

[He holds one of his hands out for her to clasp, use him as a human support to get to a stand easier. Abigail doesn't have the same aching, aged joints that Will does (and she might never, and that hurts more than any serious injury, any scar, any cranky shoulder), but there's nothing out of place about a helping hand in this situation. A literal one, offered without invisible strings that are tense and could be cut at any moment if Abigail doesn't do exactly what he wants her to. It's not just fishing he'd love to take part in, it's the company.

It's all Abigail.]

[ she happily takes his hands to heave herself up, not letting go right away. she likes the contact. ]

'kay. [ answered as if she was just asking conversationally, and not because she actually wants to go. but then she grins and it's clear she does want to go. ] Let's go then. We can make knock off sushi for dinner. Cooked sushi.

[ the idea of raw fish makes her nose wrinkle. ]

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infomodder - 2015-07-04 01:56 (UTC) - Expand

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