This was the delicate moment that Fisher had never been good at. He didn't like people touching him when he was upset, so his first instinct was to stay away. But some people needed to be held, so maybe he should go to Will. But then again, even if Will didn't want to be held, maybe he needed to be. But people who didn't want contact always reacted the worst.
Slowly, Fisher got off the bed, walking the few steps to Will's computer chair. For once he stood taller than the angel, Will's head reaching his chest. With a tentative hand, he reached out and stroked his fingers in the angel's hair, stepping close beside him. When Will did not brush him off, he pulled the angel's head against his chest, holding him there, his other arm circling around his shoulders. He pressed his lips to the top of Will's head, just holding him close.