SUBLIME, Hannibal Lecter

͙⁺˚*･ ( 14. Until you. )

'HE SAYS 'BILL I BELIEVE THIS IS KILLING ME' AS A SMILE RUN AWAY FROM HIS FACE'

In the house where they had found a corpse—a woman named Beth LeBeau —Sloane stood with Beverly in the hallway, waiting for Will to emerge from the room where the body lay. They were examining the shoe prints found at the scene, all in silence, trying to focus.

But the quiet was shattered when the door swung open with a sharp click. Will appeared on the threshold, frightened, his hands covered in blood.

Sloane and Beverly both jolted to their feet, looking at him with concern. "Will?" they called out. He barely seemed to hear them, so Sloane stepped forward, touching his shoulder. "Will!"

"Sloane...?" he stammered softly, a flicker of recognition in his eyes.

She took his hands in hers, ignoring the blood. "It's me, Will. You're okay. Let's go," and she quietly led him downstairs.

She helped him wash the blood from his hands, then did the same herself while he dried off. Jack arrived shortly after, shooting Will a worried glance—earning himself a deadly glare from Sloane.

She had warned him, and now he was facing the consequences. Maybe now he'd finally listen.

Crawford stepped onto the porch, waiting for Will to finish washing up and join him, but he didn't expect Sloane to follow. Ever since their argument in his office, she had avoided speaking to him, especially when alone.

When the two stepped outside, both bundled in coats against the snow, Jack pointed a finger at Will. "What happened in there?"

Sloane let out an infuriated scoff. "What happened is you didn't listen to my goddamn advice!" she snapped.

Will opened his mouth to respond—to ask what she meant—but Jack cut him off. "Agent Winters, I'm not talking to you," Jack said coldly, for the first time. "If you raise your voice at me again, I'll have to remove you from the case."

"Bullshit," she hissed, though Jack pretended not to hear.

"Well, Will?" he pressed again.

"I got confused," Will answered simply, lowering his gaze.

"I've seen you confused, and I've seen you upset, but I've never seen you afraid like this," Jack insisted.

"Well, I'm an old hand at fear. I can manage this one. I just got disoriented. I can go back in—"

"I saw the look on your face when you came out of that room. Now, what did you experience in there that's got you mute all of a sudden?" Jack asked, unconvinced.

"I can see and hear better afraid. I-I just can't speak... as concisely," Will muttered.

"Will, you contaminated a crime scene. You've never done that before."