Abigail Hobbs is a survivor. (laniidae) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2013-06-19 22:35:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, abigail hobbs, will graham |
Who: Abigail Lecter and Will Graham.
What: Meeting for the first time in this reality.
When: Wednesday afternoon, 6/17.
Where: Restaurant by Dr. Lecter's offices.
Rating: PG-13 for mention of violence in dreams but nothing explicit.
Status: Complete!
Will wasn’t entirely sure how he’d discuss Lilo with Dr. Lecter, but he’d be doing his best. Having a date was almost a milestone for him; between his shyness and his quirks, the last time he’d had a date was in high school and it was probably going to show.
He had some extra time - he’d gotten here early - so he went into a small cafe a few doors down from Dr. Lecter’s office building. He was able to get a bowl of what looked like a decent tomato soup, so he took it to a table against the wall and sat down to eat.
Abigail Lecter had figured she’d stop by to visit her father and bring him some lunch. Her father liked the cafe near his office, so she was sure to get him a nice sandwich. But the smells made her own stomach growl, so she got one for herself and moved to sit. Scanning the room, she saw a familiar face and went to sit down across from him.
“Will, right?”
“Yes?” Will blinked, looking up at the girl. He did recognize her.”Oh. You’re the doctor’s daughter, right?” He’d blanked on her name, but he remembered her on the computer network. “I’m not sure if we ought to talk.” He didn’t know the rules on those kinds of things.
“I’m Abigail Lecter, yeah.” She smiled and sat down across from him, curling her legs under her body. “And why shouldn’t we?”
She was a pretty girl, with big blue eyes. “I don’t know, I suppose it’s okay.” It just felt strange, but she likely knew better than he did. “What brings you here?”
“I was getting a sandwich to bring Daddy, but I got hungry first.” She tucked some dark brown hair behind her ear, smiling sheepishly. “You’re going to head up for your weekly, huh.”
Will nodded. "I'm Will," he said, in case she'd forgotten. "I haven't been seeing him long."
“I remember you,” she smiled. She curled a leg underneath herself. “Are you scared that Daddy’s been talking about you with me?”
“He has?” Will echoed, feeling instantly awkward, but doing his best to hide it. “I mean. I can’t think that he told you anything really embarrassing.” Dr. Lecter didn’t seem the type to breach professional ethics so flagrantly.
“I meant is that what you’re scared of. Daddy doesn’t breach confidentiality. And you’re not the sort to tell me your secrets anyway. I just know your name is Will, and I’m guessing you work with some sort of animal.” That was just what she could see.
“Oh. Sorry.” Will wiped his mouth to make sure there was no soup there. “I misunderstood. I do work with animals; I train dogs.” He could certainly tell her that. “Are you still in school, Miss Lecter?”
“I finish soon, then I start at UCI in August.” She adjusted the scarf that was tied around her neck, one of the new ones her father had picked out for her.
“Are you going to follow in your father’s footsteps?” He was curious. His father had apparently worked on boats, but he’d never felt any inclination to do the same. “You don’t have to, but I know some do.”
“I want to, in my own way. I want to do forensic psychology.” She didn’t want to go into the medical part of psychiatry, but she did want to help people.
“Ah.” That interested Will. “So the more cerebral side of the discipline? You’d like to work more with police or the FBI?” He wondered if she’d dreamt at all. He didn’t want to discuss his own if she hadn’t had any.
That made Abigail nod. She bit her lower lip. “In my dreams...” She lowered her head. “Do you believe in those weird dreams that are going around, Mr. Graham?”
He had to be honest. “I’m not sure. I’ve had them. But it just ... there’s no logical explanation.” And he was very big on logic. “I have a lot of interesting experiences in my own dreams, but it doesn’t mean I have any profiling experience in real life.”
“I had a dream that my biological father, my father in the dreams as well - I dreamed he slit my throat. Then I woke up and I had a scar.” Abigail took off her scarf, exposing her impossibly long neck that was dotted with bruises and one long, curved scar. “In my dreams, you shot him, Mr. Graham. You saved my life.”
Will blinked. He stared at her for a long minute before being able to wrap his head around what she’d been saying. “I did?” It wasn’t farfetched, within the realm of the dreams. “In what capacity? FBI?” He somehow doubted he’d have passed the exam, even in his own dreams. He’d still seemed to be autistic.
That made Abigail nod. “My father was there too. He kept me from bleeding out. My biological father in the dreams ... I think he killed people.” Her blue eyes were dark. She hadn’t told her father yet that one of his patients was in her dreams.
“So wait. You’ve dreamt of me and Dr. Lecter working together?” Will asked, now very curious. “In my dreams, I’m a teacher at the FBI Academy. It makes me wonder what happens to get me into the field. I mean, I’m ... let’s just say I might not pass the entrance exam.” His neurology wasn’t this girl’s business. “How strange.”
“I don’t know the context. I just know my father slit my mother’s throat, that he had a knife to mine and got it halfway done - “ Her fingers went to the scar like birds with broken wings, wobbling as they ran over the raised tissue. “And you shot him. Then Daddy - my dad, the one you know - he put his hand over my neck to keep me from bleeding.”
“How strange.” Will had to say it again; there wasn’t another word for it. “I mean ... in my dreams, I was a policeman in New Orleans for some years. After an incident, I left to go to graduate school and work for the FBI crime lab. That’s where I’ve stopped.” It troubled him, vaguely, that the dreams might continue. The crime lab seemed to be a pleasant place for him to be.
“You’d be good at that,” Abigail murmured. She fussed with her scarf, carefully knotting it once more. “You seem to be the sort to be ... careful, if that makes sense.”
“It does.” Will understood. “I keep the house as clean as it can be, with a bunch of dogs. I don’t lose things. I apparently did very well with chain of custody issues,” he said, not without amusement. “I can’t explain these dreams, though. At least they aren’t night terrors, I suppose.”
Abigail huffed a laugh. “Not yet.”
“Oh, I already have night terrors.” Will answered wryly. “Just not about these things.” He didn’t remember his night terrors; few did, from what he understood.
That made her nose wrinkle. “I’m sorry. I hear that it’s hard to get rid of them if you continue having them into adulthood.”
“So your father has told me, actually.” Will nodded. “They’ve actually been less frequent during these strange dreams. I suppose I should be grateful for small favors.” He finished his soup, pushing the bowl to one side as he reached for his coffee.
“I hope your dreams are better than me and Daddy’s.” She didn’t like that it seemed awful for so many people. She’d come to be at least comfortable with her scar, thanks to her father’s nightly kisses to the skin there, but some people weren’t so lucky.
“So far they’ve been grim, but not truly awful.” Will nodded. “My dogs help. At least two of them usually sleep with me, so at least I have an anchor to reality most nights.”
That made Abigail smile. “Daddy’s not really the pet sort. Shedding. I begged him once for a poodle, but didn’t really want to press the issue. What kinds do you have?” She looked like a girl who’d always wanted a pet and never had one.
The idea of Dr. Lecter with a poodle was somewhat comical, but Will was able to keep a straight face, mostly. “I own four, but right now I keep seven. I’m training the other three for their families, or in preparation for them to be adopted.” He ticked it all off on his fingers. “Golden retriever, pomeranian, dachshund, border collie/lab mix, dalmatian/pit bull mix, black lab, Newfoundland. The golden retriever, dachshund, border collie/lab mix and pom belong to me.”
“It takes an amazing person to foster animals. You’re really good to do that.” Abigail smiled broadly. “Oh, a Newfoundland. I’ve always wanted a big dog.”
“Titan is a good dog. Just had some social issues.” Will smiled. “He came from an abusive home and had never been in a house before. Now that he’s gotten used to it, he’s much better.” He’d let the Newfoundland sleep with him for a few nights, and that had helped as well.
“It’s good of you to help him out. Maybe sometime I could visit?” She sounded hopeful.
“Maybe. I’d want to be sure it was okay with your father, though.” Will didn’t see a problem, but Dr. Lecter might, and given that Dr. Lecter had been of some help to him so far, that had to come first.
“Of course. I wouldn’t do something without his permission anyway.” Abigail was a very good girl.
“Well, maybe you can ask your father, and then let me know via the network?” Will managed a smile. She seemed like a good girl. Will wouldn’t necessarily have been so devoted to his one parent when he was her age.
“That works.” She smiled, dabbing her mouth with a napkin. “I’m going to get going to get this over to Daddy. I’ll probably see you in the waiting room. It was nice meeting you, Mr. Graham.”
“Same to you, Miss Lecter.” Will nodded, still smiling a little. “If your father asks, I’m coming.”