"WHATS WRONG DOCTOR?" A sassy patient would ask with a smirk, crossing lazily her legs, wishing she could out thrm above the glass table. "You're awfully quiet today."

"Indeed." Bedelia nodded in that automatic composed behaviour of hers. "I think I'm slightly puzzled by you this morning"

"Me?" Teresa scoffed.

"Yes, you." Bedelia agreed. "You seem quite happy...although I feel some confusion in your tone."

Teresa rolled her eyes. She had quite a few sessions wuth Bedelia by now, and it almost turned into a joke to her how the psychiatrist always knew what was off about her, no matter how hard she'd try to disguise it.

"Is it about Will Graham?" She asked.

"Why do you ask?"

"You smell like dogs and some nasty aftershave."

Teresa almost laughed. It was true, she had just left Will's home, wearing one of his red flannel shirts, oversized over her pants comfortable and smelling like him. Borrowing his shirt's now after spending the night in his place was something already common to them.

And he liked even better to take the shirt back from her after it.

"I was at his place." She responded, Bedelia listened in silence. "I slept there, we fucked all night."

"That was...unnecessary to say but alright." Bedelia nodded making a faint face at the statement, cheeks rosed. "He has recovered fully from Abel Gideon's attack, I assume."

"Yeah, Will's a strong guy." Terrsa chuckled slightly. "If you know what I mean." She winked.

Bedelia contained her groan. She was not being paid enough for this.

"Have you solved your feelings for him?"

The question caught Teresa off guard, her smile dropped, the gaze stuck on the blonde woman across her. The quiet cold office now became even smaller as Bedelia waited for an answer.

"I...well-"

"It is clear that you have a deeper sort of affection for him." Bedelia stated serious. "Not only sex, hence you care enough to keep wearing and smelling that ugly shirt."

"You're quite sassy today, aren't you?"

"I learned that this is the only way you'll listen."

Teresa tilted her head. "True."

The doctor looked at her, wondering what was holding her back. "You love him but you fear losing him." Teresa nodded. "Have you lost someone?"

She gulped, hesitating. "Yeah...an amazing guy." Bedelia remained silent. "His name was Daniel and we were friends since I was like 11 when I moved to the house next to his with my aunt...we pratically grew up together."

"And what happened to him?"

"We dated for a while during my teen years, but later when I joined the FBI...I let him down." Teresa sighed.

"Why?"

"He didn't agree with a goal I have."

"And you let your feelings go, because of it?"

"I'm a trainwreck, he deserved better."

"And you think Will Graham deserves better as well."

Teresa nodded, fidgeting on her seat. The clock on the wall made her anxious, the conversation weightned like an anchor.

"But the difference is...I don't want to let Will go...not anymore." She confessed. "I don't know, it just doesn't feel right."

"Why is that?"

"With Daniel I didn't feel understood...like I would never be, insisting on it would be stupid." She shuddered. "But Will...Will is my best friend." She sighed. "I want to be there for him, I don't want to leave." Teresa said a bit nervous. "And...it's not just wanting, is..needing. I need him."

"You need him?"

"The world's mostly a round sphere of shit in the space, but with him...it's just feels perfect" Her eyes met the ceiling, thinking. "It's like he is the thing that has been missing my whole life."

"You feel loved." Bedelia understood. "And you want to love."

Teresa nodded. "But I'm afraid I'll disappoint him in the future."

"You cannot predict the future, Miss Brooks. No one can." Bedelia shook her head. "It is part of human life to take risks and learn with our failures. It is what makes us different than mere animals."

"And what if..." Teresa inhaled deeply, like an anxious kid about to cry. "What if he gets tired of me...what if he doesn't want me anymore-"

"Have you ever felt unwanted before, Miss Brooks?"

"You shouldn't have been born!" The voice echoed on her mind.

Tears filled Teresa's eyes, and for a moment she was there, frozen on that chair, unable to say a word. Could she reveal the truth to someone? Was there even cure for herself, someone so fucked up and gone already?

"This is a safe space, Miss Brooks." Bedelia said softly, sliding a tissue box on the glass table to her. "Whatever you say here won't leave this office."

A deep breath was what it took for her to say it.

"My mother loved a man. She loved him deeply, just like me and Daniel they lived close and he helped her one day whn they were very young, she says that was the moment she fell in love with him, for his bravery, for his kindness." Teresa swallowed not to cry. "She was the one who told him to be a cop." Bedelia continued in silence, patiently. "They fell in love, dated for a long time...until he joined the FBI."

"The story repeats itself." Bedelia noted.

"He got the opportunity to do an intensive training in Italy. And that's when my mother felt the ground beneath her feet collpase." Teresa felt her blood boil to tell the story all over again. "She begged for him to stay, but all he could think was his job, the people he could save, the status...so he left." Tereda made a gigantic pause before continuing, Bedelia did not interrupt at any moment. "Weeks later he called her by accident, phones on pockets, you know how they can turn on by accident..." Bedelia nodded. "And...she heard the voice of another woman with him, and then kisses and..." Teresa paused. "2 days later he broke up with her during a 3 minutes phone call."

Teresa Brooks looked down, visualizing the image of her poor mother falling on her knees, sobbing with a large belly.

"She was pregnant, waiting for him to come back to tell him...and she never did." Teresa admitted. "The doctors said she already had some sort of mental ilness, but this trauma triggered it."

"And the man?"

"She never saw him again." Teresa shook her head. "Even after I was born she could only..."She gulped. "She could only call his name. And I started to hate it." Teresa looked straight into the psychiatrist's eyes. "Jack Crawford."

Bedelia Du Maurier took all the effort in the world to remain neutral, but deep inside, her whole body gasped in surprise.

"Is Jack Crawford related to the...goal, you mentioned earlier?" Teresa nodded. "Revenge is a path of no return, Miss Brooks." Bedelia pondered. "It may grant you temporary satisfaction, but also consume you."

"I won't kill him." She admitted. "I have thought about that, many times...but that would be just too easy on him."

Bedelia only watched as the darker nature Hannibal said that girl had before, now finally showed up on the surface.

"I want to ruin his career." Teresa confessed. "The same 'career' he chose instead of my mother." She continued. "And when the time is right, I won't hesitate to do it."

"You love your mother enough to sacrifice your life for this?"

"I hate him enough to do this." She corrected. "I never felt loved by my mother the same way other kids do. I never had a normal childhood. But I knew whose fault it was."

"So you don't have any sort of hatred for her?"

"I feel pity." Teresa responded. "Sometimes anger. But no, I could never hate her. I know her brain is blurred by her ilness. By him." She adjusted hersrlf on her seat. "Most of the times she cursed me, she didn't even recognize me. It was mostly because of him."

"Memories are the base to our feelings. With fading ones, your mother's feelings also faded for you." She put the pieces together now. "You never felt loved, until now."

"Daniel did make me feel...somehow loved, but not as Will does. It's just different."

"Do you think Will might understand your plans? Does he know about your father?"

"No." She said right away. "But I have this...small hope he would understand."

"You want him to understand."

"I do."

Bedelia looked down, thinking deeply about what else she could tell to that troubled mind.

"Then you need to be honest with yourself first. " Bedelia spoke softly. "Confess what you keep, do not hold back."

"Aren't you going to try to make me give up on my revenge?"

"My job is to help you find your own answers." She thought for a moment. "It seems you have already found yours."

...

"Will's connecting murders that previously had no connection." Jack Crawford revealed, as he drank wine in Hannibal Lecter's office.

The day was grey and the curtains cut off the light, creating a monotone atmosphere as Hannibal organized some papers whiel the agent sat down on a corner.

"Beyond his involvement in the
investigations." Hannibal suggested.

"That's right"

"You're wondering if the lines are blurring or if he's onto something." Hannibal finally finished organizing and grabbed a glass for himself

"I'm wondering all sorts of things. "

Hannibal decided that should be the perfect bait. "May I ask, do you believe Georgia Madchen was murdered?"

Jack thought for a moment. "There's evidence to suggest her death was intentional but it could have easily been by her own hand."

"This woman was bested by madness. Perhaps what Will can't accept is that she took her own life so she wouldn't kill again."

Jack made a face. "Why is that so hard to accept?"

"If she could survive her delusions, then maybe he could survive his." Hannibal crossed his legs elegantly, as he continued his dark twisted plans. "He was hallucinating when he shot Abel Gideon. In his mind, he was killing Garret Jacob Hobbs. Again."

Jack started put the pieces together. "What's Will's relationship with Abigail Hobbs these days?"

Hannibal held back the smile he'd like to, it would be far too terrifying for this world to witness. "Complicated."

"Three deaths in the Garret Jacob Hobbs case haven't been solved. The third being our only suspect in the first two murders." He sighed. "And here was I, thinking at the time that bringing Teresa Brooks would help us in that case."

Hannibal observed his glass with caution, measuring his next words. "Miss Brooks is close to Abigail though." He interjected. "Inseparable, even."

"Really?" Jack crossed his arms. "She's not even working and now she got close to a witness...she never stops causing trouble."

"Will doesn't tell me anything about Abigail Hobbs...Nicholas Boyle... do you think Brooks would?" The two exchanged gazes. "Yeah, no."

"You think they're protecting her."

"Have been since Will killed her father. Just don't know from what."

"I can't imagine they would hide
anything criminal from you." Hannibal acte innocently "I've only ever known Will Graham as a man striving to be his best self....and Teresa..."

"You haven't known him very long. But we both know him well enough to know he hasn't been himself." Jack snapped back. "And you're biased when it comes to Brooks...I don't know what you see in her..."

Hannibal faked a smile. "Perhaps love does blind us in some ways..." He turned to him.

"About your last request, on bringing her back, I haven't changed my mind."

"Not even now that Will's condition is worse?"

Jack clenched his jaw. "Teresa's unstable. No matter what I tell her she won't listen...starting to think she hates me or something."

Now that was the perfect chance to strike. Especially after the new information Hannibal obtained from a certain doctor.

"Have you tried to speak to her therapist? Dr.Bedelia Du Maurier?" Hannibal suggested.

"Isn't there some sort of policy of confidentiality-"

"Well but you're the one who assigned her to the FBI. I believe she should give some information...at least for professional assistance."

Jack pondered upon the question for a while, deciding weather to listen to the doctor or not. "You sure she would tell me?"

Hannibal gave a faint smile of satisfaction. "The worst you can obtain is no for an answer."

...

Bedelia Du Maurier was having a day off, she had hydrated her hair, now shining like the sun, and scheduled a massage that would happen within 2 hours later. For now she only she savored a glass of wine, listened to classical music in that sophisticated residence she lived alone.

Until there was a vexing knock on front the door.

As she slowly moved to open it, there was revealed within the misty air, a tall black agent with serious gaze, taming off his hat to greet her as someone from a previous century.

"Dr. Du Maurier?" He asked as she nodded. "I'm Special Agent Jack Crawford with the FBI." He flashed his ID to her. "I'd like to speak with you about a patient of yours."

She narrowed her eyes but maintain her neutral cold expression, guiding him until her minimalist kitchen.

With his back turned to the Agent, Bedelia grabbed another bottle, she wouldn't care less to be sober for this. She knew it was because of Hannibal, it was always because of him. That bastard.

"Do you have a court order?"Shs asked smoothly, as her glass was now full of the dark red liquid.

Jack gazrd upon the other 2 empty bottles on the counter, trying not to show off his thoughts. "I'd rather not get one." He lookrd at chair next to the counter. "May I sit?"

Her extreme politeness refused her to act against it. Bedelia gestured in agreement, the agent sat down. "So this isn't an official inquiry." She muttered.

"Not yet. I don't want to damage anyone's reputation unnecessarily."

She paused, attentive and cautious. "Whose reputation would that be?"

He took a file from his pocket, showing the picture of a familiar patient always on trouble. "Teresa Brooks. One of our best yet most problematic special agents."

Bedelia scanned her eyes through the young girl's picture then gazed back at the man who now she knew was her father. Luckily she was a professional who wouldn't let the history confessed to her affect her, or else, Jack Crawford wouldn't be allowed to enter that house.

"Yes, I know her." Was her answer. "But I do not understand your motives."

"I may suspect that Miss Brooks might be withholding information regarding her behaviour at work." He folded the paper and put back in his pocket. "Especially regarding my authority"

"It's been some time since she has been aparted from the field." Bedelia noted. "Why the question now? Are you considering her return?"

Jack paused for an instant, pursing his lips while thinking. He did need extra help, but at the same time he couldn't stand that girl.

"Depends on what you say."

"I have a confidential duty to-"

"I was the one who requested her special treatment." Jack said it first, trying to show off authority. "I believe it is only right I am informed of it...especially since the FBI is also paying for it."

Bedelia mentally cursed that man. Hannibal had instructed him well enough to make an interrogatory witty enough so she couldn't escape. She could never escape.

"She had progress...regarding her anger management."

"What's that anger after all?"

"I diagnosed her with Borderline Personality Disorder It is clear by her mood swings, intensive determination goals, attachment and difficulty of letting things or people go." Bedelia informed, pouring another glass.

"Can she work like that?"

Bedelia nodded. "As long a she continues her treatment and is not let under any stressful circumstances, yes."

"Stressful circumstances?" He scoffed bothered. "It's not like I can wrap her in a bubble, our job is stressful." He shuddered. "That without speaking of her trying to go against my rules. Is that also because of her borderline?"

Bedelia hesitated to answer, it's not like she could simply say the truth.

"Perhaps Miss Brooks holds some...grudges against your persona, I am not quite sure."

"Not sure?" Jack asked annoyed, furrowing his eyebrows. "Weren't you supposed to know? You're her psychiatrist."

"And that is why instead of revealing her secrets I recommend you both to dialogue as adults." She interjected as a slap across his face. "I am sure that Miss Brooks have done enough progress to be open to talk about it."

"Come on, I didn't come all this way here to leave empty handed." He stood up from his chair, raising his chin. "You work for the FBI when baving sessions with Miss Brooks, are you willing to interfere and disrupt the FBI's service, Dr.Du Maurier?"

Bedelia held tight the glass in her hands not to lose control. That man was getting on her nerves.

"Search about Miss Brooks' family." Was her answer making Jack widen his eyes. "Especially regarding her parents."

"What about her parents?"

"That's for you to discover."

Jack opened his mouth to speak but held back his need to, realizing he wouldn't be able to obtain nuch infornation after all.

"What about her and Will?" he suddenly questioned. "What's their relationship?"

"Why is that relevant to you?"

"They're both my agents, if their relationship affects work, it affects me."

"Has it affected until now?" He shook his head to the question. "Then it does not concern you. " She emptied the bottle. "Now if you do not mind, I need to go shop for another bottle of wine." She indicated the door. "You already know the exit."

...

Strong arms wrapped around her waist, nkse sinking in her neck, kips dropping kisses along the smooth brown skin making her giggle. "What are you doing there?" He whispered.

"A pie." Teresa smiled gently as she looked back to Will, her whole wide world.

"You're baking me a pie?" He scoffed. "What's wrong with you today? Came in sweet, awfully quiet, and now even cooked for me..."He suspected. "What have you done now?"

Teresa chuckled, but deep inside she was a pile of nerves. She had decided this would be the day, this would be the time she'd reveal everything.

"Nothing...just wanted to have something nice with you." She responded instead.

"Right..."Will said, not completely convinced. "You want help?"

"If you can take Winston off my feet, that would help." She pointed to the dog just next to her, looking up trying to catch any ingredient from the pie. "Maybe feed him too so he won't eat our pie"

He chuckled. "Fine, fine, chef. Come on boy." He squated down, petting the dog and slowly guiding off the kitchen.

Teresa admired the two for a moment with a smile turning back to the sink, washing some last remaining dishes.

Her mind couldn't stop working just yet, it was almost like it would never stop. Hands scanning the shelves for whatever she was looking, had forgotten by now.

What if he'd hate her for keeping that as a secret for so long? What if he wouldn't agree with her own ideas?

Teresa checked the temperature on the oven, hands touching the buttons and lower, eyes wandering other places, mind elsewhere.

Could he even love someone so fucked up as her?

"Ah-" She exclaimed as she instantly back off, had accidentally touched the oven too close, burning the tip of her fiingers.

"Tess?" Will's voice called for her as he heard the noise. He quickly came to the kitchen, almost gasping at her. "What happened? Are you okay?" he immediatly took her hand in his. "Teresa, shit.."

"I'm-I'm sorry..."

"Why are you sorry? You got hurt" Will saud as he helped her wash the burned area with cold water, grabbing some medicine at a corner to help with the injury.

"I didn't want to bother..."She muttered, eyes stuck on his figure as he delicately applied the medicine on her fingers, cold gel that was soft against his skin on hers.

"You don't fucking bother, don't say that." He responded, blowing some air onto her fingers. "Don't touch anything, let it stay on your skin for some time." She nodded at his instructions.

Will Graham looked back at her, noticing the shy behaviour, the eyes on the flower, cheeks slightly flushed. It wasn't like Teresa to be so afraid or don't have anything to say.

"What's wrong?" He asked again, in a gentle tone. "You're strange."

"Me? No, I'm not-"

"Yes, you are." He insisted, hands reaching her cheek. "Tess you can talk to me."

Teresa sighed, shivering a bit by the cold that came from the window.

"Let me get a coat for you." He decided.

"I think I have one in my bag." She muttered, but just then realized what she had done. Teresa got up abruptely as she noticed Will going after her bag and trying to get his hands inside. "Wait!"

He got a grey sweater from inside it, the same sweater he saw a while ago, it wasn't perfect, somehow with many holes and way too large to be hers.

"This one?" He asked not very sure.

"No...that...was supposed to be a surprise."She sighed, now in front of him. "I...made that for you."

It took a minute for him to actually believe in her words. His hands gripped a bit tighter to the sweater in his hands, olive eyes sparkling against hers.

"That's...mine?" he mumbled incredulous.

Teresa nodded. "I know it's not perfect, but I thought that maybe...I don't know I just wanted to."

He looked down at the clothing, first came out a scoff that sounded like a surprised laugh, then a large, wide smile spread across his light beard, those white pears shining as he held it with pride.

"You made me a sweater." He repeated over and over, almost like trying to process. "Teresa Brooks made me a fucking sweater."

"Look if you don't like it, it's fine-"

He barely gave her a chance to speak, as he yanked off the long sleeved wool shirt he wore, grabbed the sweater and put it on freling the warmth of the fabric across his body.

Will chuckled, noticing all the little failures and attempts to correct the structure of the fabric. Teresa had hoped she could have fixed it before properly gifting him it, she carried it with her everywhere, trying to find time to finish it, but now it was too late.

"You don't meed to wear that." Teresa insisted, but couldn't help but admire him wearing grey, it just suited him. she felt her heart speed to watch him wearing something she made.

"Are you kidding me?" He smirked, his eyes wandering throigh her face like he craved her in such a sentimental way it could make anyone melt. "I'm never taking this off now."

"Stop joking around."

Will leaned close, hands gripping onto her wrists making her touch his chest, right above his heart, the soft fabric of the clothing against her skin.

"That's the best gift I've ever had." He whispered in a hot breath, she looked at him mesmerized. "Yeah, it's large and full of holes but..." he guided he rhands down, until they could reach below the sweater, touching the skin underneath, from down to up. "...I think of that as an advantage." He grinned last before grabbing the edge of the sweater and putting above her head without earning, until she could be sharing the outfit.

Will Graham now sharing the favric over their heads, leaned down, stealing a warm kiss of desperation and gratefulmess. The coldness of the snow outside dissipating by their bodies close, the breaths mixing, it could make tehir bodies tingel in the best way possible.

"Will..."

"Shh..."He whispered. "It's too cold, let me warm you..." He purred, sucking on her lips almost making her gasp. "just let me hold you like this a bit more..."His hands pulled her waist completely against his, them both melting with the contact.

Soon enough it seemed like there was no house, no problems, no snow, just them. Her whole world was underneath that sweater, the single thread of life that was keeping her sane.

And it was so easy to stare at those eyes for eternity, to stay that close until afterlife.

There wasn't much to say, not that she could think about unless begging to be his, begging to be wanted like this forevermore. One thing was wanting that man, the other was desiring him so desperately to become bad about it.

"Thank you" He whispered tenderly, as his vision was only hers in that little world of their own.

Teresa felt a smile across her face, but her whole body ached to be honest, she couldn't just deny it anymore, if she did, she'd just rather die at that single moment.

The overthinking suddenly shut down, the universe silenced.

"I love you." The words came out on their own, his pupils dilated by the sound. "I...I don't know how or when it started but I just do." Teresa mumbled, body trembling nervous. "I've been trying to run away from it but...I just can't hide it anymore, I love you, Will"

Her words were muffled by his eager lips on hers, wet and tight, tongue invading her mouth in a sign of devotion, confession. This was the moment he has waited for so long and now it was finally his.

This wasn't a kiss for clutch to his sanity, that was a kiss of pure honesty. And in a world of lies, shadows and menaces, Teresa Brooks was his solemn, most honourable truth he followed.

"I love you" He whispered back, breathless, foreheads touching. "Think I've said that before, but feels even better to say it now." the two exchanged soft smiles. "Feels...incredible to say it now" He said in awe to be living in that present.

The two giggled, a bit awkward, lighteaded, finally able to admit what they've been feeling for long.

"You sure I'm not dreaming?" He caressed her cheek.

"No, not this time."

He caressed her cheek and his gaze was so soft, so tender yet fragile that the artic pole itself could melt by it. Will Graham couldn't shake off the warmness of his heart, the butterflies in the stomach and that oath of admiration between them. It was like he had spent hsi whole life longing to understood, and when he least expected she was there, the light shower of his darkness.

Teresa took in a deep breath, she had crossed a limit she had imposed for so long, exploring a new territory unseen for so long. There was fear, anxiety, but most of all there was relief, the same relief that made her long for him even more. Will Graham was the only truth she wished to follow, the only value she wished to worship.

But for that, she needed to be honest.

"I need to tell you something." She became serious, making him quite surprised. "And...I hope things do not change between us because of this, but I need to be honest with you. I can't hide this from you."

"...what is it?" His glasses begun to blur a little curious. His mind worked endlessly. "Wait...are you..."

She furrowed her eyebrows. "What?"

He swallowed dry, a silly surprised face. "Are you...uh..."He stuttered. "...Are you pregnant?"

Teresa coughed, almost like she had choked with air itself. Then tapped his shoulder a bit more harsh than usual.

"What the fuck?! No!" She shouted, and he sighed, releasing the tension. "No, I'm not, where the hell did you get that from?!"

"I just...I mean you turned serious-"

"No, it's not that." She shook her head, leading him to the sofa. "But you need to sit down."

She got off his large sweater and the two sat side by side, her hands resting on his large ones, so rouch and calloused, but so dear to the touch.

"Okay..."She took inhaled deeply. "Remember when you hated me when I got here, in our team?" He nodded. "I wasn't here for the job, I'm still not here for the job actually."

"What do you mean?"

"I...I wanted to take revenge on someone." She revealed, Will looked at her surprised. "I wanted to take revenge on...on my father."

"...Your father?"

"Yeah, my father..."She sighed. "...my father is Jack."

A long pause of deep and torturous silence devoured them both, Will seemed to have not hearf ot right at first, stuck into place, lips tilting before forminga sentence.

"...Jack...?" He muttered.

"Jack Crawford." Teresa nodded. "He used to date my mother when they were younger, but he left her when she was pregnant. He didn't know, well, he still doesn't know I exist."

His eyes widened a bit.

"So you're...telling me all this time..."

"I couldn't tell it to you, I was afraid you'd get in the way." Teresa sighed. "But now...now I can't just let you in the dark."

Will ran his hands through his face, like he was tired yet extremely confused at the same time.

"And your mother?" he asked.

"My mother...suffered extreme trauma from it...she's at a mental health clinic." Teresa explained it carefully. "Dementia, some hints of alzheimer. She doesn't remember me most of the time and gets stuck to the time she used to date him"

"Tess..."Will looked at her quite speechless, his hands trembled and hesitated and first to touch her, but instead he pulled her into a tight hug. The feel of his warm arms around her seemed to ease most of the pain away. "I...I shit, sorry, I don't even know what to say...sorry."

She shook her head while getting it glued to his chest, feeling his heartbeats and the sensation of his breath up and down.

"You might think I'm insane."She whispered.

"No you're not." He said back. "Jack's an asshole, we all knew that, but this...this is just low for him." His large hands caressed her curly hair strands, almost creating a pattern on his own skin. "You have every right to be mad."

"I want to get back at him...but I'm a failure, I even managed to be kicked out of my job."

"Don't say that, you're the best, he just doesn't see that"

"He never sees." Teresa looked up, her eyes two blissful glass spheres looking back at him, doll like and purely tragic.

"But I see you." Will whispered as his thumb stroked her cheek and briefly touched the corner of her lips. "I see you, Teresa, and as long as I breathe in this goddamn world, I'll always see you."

A broken smile crossed her face before he dropped a kiss on the top of her head. Being understood. That's what she longed for her whole life, and she was feeling the sensation at last.

Being raptured in that capsule of love was even better than she could've ever dreamt, it was the sort of love one could never stop wishing for it to end.

And Will felt the same. The feel to be trusted, to be someone's confidant, to be cared enough to be told secrets to. There was this partnership of them, this perfect secretness that added to the sweetness of their private life. The delight of blending souls.

The relief of being seen.

....

Jack Crawford was not goof at research. He was actually terrible with computers, Beverly Katz had mocked over it several times, even Will Graham had caught him struggling with his phone once.

But this time he had a goal.

Search about Teresa Brooks, Bedelia said, about her family.

He finally managed to get into the FBI' system and voilà, the image of a rebel showed up on the screen. Wild dark eyes with matching curly jet black hair, staring blankly into the void for her badge.

Basic meaningless info so far, until.

No father registered.

Strange.

But worse.

Mother:...

The mug he was holding crashed onto the floor.

Brooks. Why didn't he recall it before? It was too much of a coincidence.

A....

The porcelain and the coffee stained the carpet down below, but he couldn't move.

Amelia.

Amelia Brooks.

...Amy.

...

"Where's Abigail?"

"One of the other girls said Special Agent Graham snuck her out. Don't

know why he would feel the need to be sneaky. He's registered as one of her guardians. The irony." A redheaeed figure organized some papers at the same usual desk she would work on her newest book.

The olive windows brought some opacoty to that misty afternoon when Teresa Brooks had entered the room and looked for the young girl, only to find out that rather obnoxious presence.

"Will was here?" Teresa mumbled. Why didn't he tell her he would visit Abigail? They were just fine yesterday, after her confession, she spent the night in his place. Then why would he leave so soon to sneak Abigail out?

Her dark brown eyes scanned the files on her desk and the notebook by her side.

"How's the book?" She raised an eyebrow.

Freddie gave a discrete teasing smile. Polite conversation just for show, how tipical.

"There are some plot holes." Freddie Lounds responded.

Teresa stopped on her tracks, now finally looking at her face. "And how are you filling them?"

Freddie made a pause, raised herself from the chair, and rest her hands on the desk, leaning forward.

"Let's be honest with each other, Miss Brooks, shall we?" She said a bit bold and forward. "Did Abigail Kill Nicholas Boyle?"

There was a fraction of time that simply went motionless.

"What?"

"You heard me." Her piercing blue eyes reassured her sentence. "Did she?"

"H-How can you say that? She's just a child-"

"Abigail is one of those very smart girls who hasn't figured out that very smart girls grow up and know all the moves they're making when they're trying to hide something." Freddie responded coldlu instead, sharp words rolling out her tongue, not fearing it could bleed out. "What's Will Graham trying to hide?"

"Will's not hiding anything." Teresa shook her head. "You're imagining things."

"Or you don't know."

"There's nothing to know." Teresa pointed to her. "Will doesn't hide naything from me. We have no secrets. And that includes Abigail."

"Yet you have no clue where he is now." Freddie tilted her head to the side. "Go on, call him."

Teresa hesitated but reached for her phone, her fingers meticulously dialed the number she already had memorized. But the line died shortly after.

"He's not picking up, is he?" Freddie spoke as a devil hanging on her shoulder.

"Fuck off." Teresa insisted, as she tried to call the number multiple times.

"Everyone sees it except you." The journalist spoke. "Will Graham, tHannibal Lecter, Jack Crawford...Abigail Hoobs is a killer."

Teresa shook her head, feeling the pain of betrayal hit her vocal chords, unable to speak properly, swallowing down any emotion that could show up on the surface.

"You don't know shit." Her words came out like she had just suffered a punch.

Freddie sighed, rolling her eyes, and crossing her arms. "Then suit yourself."

"I will." Teresa said as she put the phone back on her purse and stormed to the door. "And Freddie?" She turned to the woman at last. "Shove that book up your ass."

...

"Where's he?!" Her yell invaded his ears, which once were only filled with classical music that echoed through his office.

Hannibal only stepped away so she could enter the office, heels strong and fierce, purse thrown far from reach.

"Teresa, I don't know-"

"You knew it." She spoke through her teeth as a beast. "You knew it, don't you? You were there." She pointed to the doctor. "The night Nick Boyle died. Did you see it?"

"See what?" He buried his hands in his suit's pockets.

"Abigail killing Nick Boyle."

Hannibal remained silent.

"Did you know, Hannibal?" She whispered, her whole body trembling.

"Will knows."

A gasp escaped her throat, and she had to rely herself next to an armchair not to fall.

"Did he..."

"I don't know where he is, but judging by your surprise...he might be with Abigail."

"You think..."She gulped. "You think Jack is right?" She mumbled as the doctor came closer, calmly and cautiously. "Do you think Abigaim was involved in her father's crimes...?"

Hannibal clenched his jaw. "It is hard to say he isn't based on the evidence that was found."

"Oh God..."She exhaled deeply. "But...how...how could she lie..."

"Maybe she was trying to defend herself."

"I defended her." Teresa's voice sounded offended. "I defended her with all my strentgh, only to find out she lied all this time? That's a fucking backstabber?"

"Does your affection for her changes now that you know the truth?" Hannibal analyzed, as his friendly manipulative hand touched her shoulder, pulling her close.

"I don't know."

"And Will?"

Teresa silenced herself. She simply couldn't imagine Will lying or omitting this fact from her. Not the same Will she was fully open to, it would shatter her soul.

There was no time to think, the door suddenly opened, and the worst happened.

"Have you seen Will Graham?" Jack Crawford said in a hushed tone before becoming frozen by the image before him. "Looks like I'm the not the only one on a hunt for him."

There was so much left unsaid and said at the same time. That same inflammable emotion buried deep down, the thoughts that twisted their minds.

"He took Abigail Hobbs." Jack finally gained courage to answer. "Any idea of where he might've taken her?" He asked to the two.

By now, Hannibal had Teresa glued to his chest, his hand caressing her hair at the top, like she was a little baby under his care.

"No." The doctor shook his head faking empathy. He took a deep breath. "I think there's something you nees to hear"

He departured from Teresa for a brief moment to play a recording device, the audio came out a little low, but enough to acknowledge the words.

"How did you feel seeing Marissa Schuur impaled in the antler room?" Hannibal's voice was recognized in the recording, it seemed like an audio of a previous session.

"Guilty." Will responded.

Teresa and Jack exchanged gazes in silence.

"Because you couldn't save her?" Hanninal continued in the tape.

"Because I felt like I killed her."

Hannibal suddenly pressed stop, now facing Jack's stone expression and Teresa's wide open eyes.

"Where was Will the night Marissa Schuur was murdered?" Jack asked.

"You can't be serious." Teresa interjected, unable to think that way.

"He was supposed to be in his hotel

room." Hannibak still responded. "I knocked on his door. He didn't answer. He told Alana Bloom he decided to go to bed early."

Hannibal could feel Teresa's grip on his shirt stronger and stronger by each moment.

"We know Will was in Sutcliffe's office when he was killed. And Will was the last person to visit Georgia Madchen before she died." Jack spoke logically.

"No...No, that can't be."Teresa refused.

"Are you implying Will Graham is a suspect?" Hannibal said softly, his arm wrapped around Teresa.

"This dissociated personality state you say he goes into... whose personality is it?"Jack asked.

"Will said he got so close to Garret Jacob Hobbs and what he had done, he felt like he was becoming him."

"And now he has Hobbs' daughter." Teresa mumbled incredulous, as Jack nodded slowly in agreement. "No, that's insanity, he wouldn't do that."

Jack Crawford reached for his radio, ready to send orders. "Gather the team. Abigail Hobbs might be in danger. Death level danger."