Here came the violence. Fisher usually took one step too far with things, and this was a fine example of that. He backed away immediately, the backs of his legs hitting the bed. Shit, he thought to himself. Will threw the glass hard, and it shattered into hundreds of sharp, dangerous pieces. Thankfully Haddon wouldn't be able to feel the shards slicing through him, since he was the closest to the destruction.
Fisher wanted to run, started walking toward the door, but Haddon stood in the way. He could have easily gotten by him, gone through him (which would have sucked for both of them), but he didn't. Haddon was watching Will, a look on his face that was anticipating something happening. Fisher turned to look at Will, assuring himself that he'd led a decent enough life that if an angry angel killed him now, it wouldn't be so terrible.
But Will wasn't throwing anything else. He simply crumpled, every piece of him shattering like the waterglass. And he was sobbing. Fisher looked at Haddon a moment, clearly helpless. The medium had seen plenty of people cry (never knew what to do with them), but only once before had he seen someone so proud and controlled fall apart. And that time, the man had needed comfort more than anyone else Fisher had ever dealt with.
So moving tentatively, Fisher moved to beside Will, taking a seat next to him on the bed. He waited a pause before wrapping his arms around him, holding him tightly and pulling him close. He could be strong when he needed to be, so even if Will decided to squirm out from his grasp, he'd keep the angel in place. "It's okay," he said softly, looking up at Haddon for reassurance.