182 reads? Why? Like.... AHHHHH. Thank you!!!
Uh, lots of media references in this one. I was feeling frisky after watching Buzzfeed Unsolved, and decided that Will Graham likes memes and no one can tell me otherwise. So, I apologize.
Also, some scientific shit goes on, but I'm too lazy to do actual research so if it sounds vague, that's because I'm in high school and have the extensive knowledge of science that is STD's and mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell. Alright, end of rant. That's all, thank you guys for reading this shitty fanfic, there's no Hannibal in this one but I'll try to add a smutty scene or two.
"Odd to see you here so early." Beverly Katz remarked, giving him a brief one-over before returning to her microscope. "Nice bandaids."
6:30 and I'm already getting comments on my bandaids? Will set his bag down on a metal stool. "Thanks." It sounded more like fuck off.
Katz didn't take the hint. "So is your nephew or something, like, really into Paw Patrol?"
"Is it really so hard to comprehend that maybe I like Paw Patrol? I have 7 fucking dogs, Katz." Will resisted the urge to touch his neck. After Doctor Lecter left, Will had stood outside for 5 minutes, absently stroking his neck, before rushing inside and changing his bandaids. The tingling sensation didn't go away, and every time he thought about it, he mentally slapped himself for being so touch starved. Why do you have to have needs, you stupid crouton? Be nihilistic, and apathetic, like I've trained you to be.
His brain didn't respond, mainly because it was a vaguely sentient mass of tissue. Stupid crouton.
Katz said nothing, smirking into her microscope. They sat in silence for a few minutes— well, Beverly did. Will couldn't sit still for the life of him, and got up every 6 seconds.
Tired of his buzzing energy, Bev pushed away from her station with an irritated sigh. "Alright, Graham, I'll bite. What is it?"
"Huh?" Will looked up from the ground, his leg bouncing faster than Barry Allen.
She slipped a hand under her goggles to rub at her eyes. "You're a giant ball of nerves and it doesn't take a empathy disorder to see that something's up."
"When'll Crawford be here?" Fucking Crawford seemed to be the ongoing theme for Will's time at work.
"They usually get here around seven." Katz jotted something down. She had almost sloppy handwriting. It bordered sociopathic, but Will found it oddly charming.
"They?"
"Yeah, Brian Zeller and Jimmy Price work here, too."
Bev snorted.
"I wasn't aware they had names."
"What'd you think they were called?"
Will paused for a second. "Dark and annoyed and Stick-out ears."
Beverly snickered. "The dark and annoyed one's Z. He, uh... doesn't like you."
"Figures." He muttered.
"The smaller and older one's Price." She frowned. "His ears aren't that big."
"Big enough for me to notice."
"You're the most perceptive person in the planet."
"I think Sherlock's got me beat." Will stretched, trying to crack his back.
"Sherlock?"
"You don't know—"
"Of course I do, I just didn't take you for a TV kinda guy." Beverly rolled her eyes with a scoff.
"It was a book. And I'm a big fan of Martin Freeman. And David Tennant."
"David Tennant's in Doctor Who." Another eye roll, this time paired with an "are you stupid?" look. She reminded Will of the meme of the girl in the purple shirt with her neck craned. You know the one.
"No shit. I watch that show, too. Are you sure you passed the screening?"
She got what he was implying. "Fuck off, Graham."
Will clutched his heart with a gasp. "Ouch. My feelings."
Jack chose this time to thunder in. Would it kill him to be subtle for once?
"What'd you do this time?" The agent sighed.
"Why do you always assume it's me?" Will ditched his wounded look, now looking agitated. Of course, Will wasn't actually agitated. No, why have emotions when you can be depressed?
"Maybe because you're a dick?" Katz muttered.
"You are what you eat." Will said sweetly. He couldn't help it; she made it too easy.
She stared at him, confused. "You eat dick?"
"It was a joke, Duck."
"Duck?"
"Ducks are slow." He gestured to her.
"Will." Crawford warned.
Will turned to him in mock admiration. "Oh, how I've missed the sound of my name on your tongue. Yelling it. Hissing it. The infamous Jack Crawford warning. The disappointed tone with that sweet parental sigh at the end." He wipes under his eye. "Brings back memories."
Jack stared at him for a moment before saying to Beverly, "Ignore everything he says to you. He just wants to get a rise out of you."
"Your description of me is so poetic." Will grunted. "Speaking of poetry, why did you tell me 6:30 when you didn't get here until 7?"
"I was preparing for your tardiness." He sounded smug. "How did it feel to have to wait for once?"
Will opened his mouth, then closed it. "Well played, Captain Holt."
"If I hear one more pop culture reference out of you—" Jack growled.
"You'll turn this giant space donut around?" Will cackled, then held up his hands in mock defeat. "Last one, I promise."
Katz scoffed, turning completely around as if to ward off Will's presence.
You can't get rid of me bitch. Will has to bite his tongue not to comment.
"I found a piece of pipe metal in the victim's dress." She held up a glass dish with a little brown speck in it.
Wow, how overwhelming. Will stifled a laugh. God I'm fucking hilarious.
Unaware that she was in the presence of a comedian, Katz continued, "If we figure out the pipe lining and coating, we can narrow our search down."
"Get Preller to work on it." Jack grinned, clapping the beaming woman on the shoulder. Will glared at the hand enviously; not because it was her that was receiving praise, but because it still mattered to her. Will yearned for how it used to be, when Jack's approval would be the highlight of his day. Now, the agent's praise felt weak and watered down. Will was tired. That was his problem. He just wanted to sleep. Sleep and sex and booze and dogs and death. Perfect day.
"Did I hear somebody say Preller?" Jimmy Price walked in with a sly smile. He had a coffee in hand, and was followed by Zeller, who looked- get this- annoyed.
"It's just easier." Crawford laughed. They all joined in, like one big happy fucking family.
Will felt isolated in that moment. He didn't belong. It was Price and Zeller and Katz and Jack. They didn't want him there. He didn't want to be there. Fucking Crawford.
He felt himself fall even further. This is why he didn't do friends. He slipped back towards the door.
They were too busy laughing to care.
Fucking Crawford.
Sorry for making Katz and Will butt heads. I love Beverly and I want to show a cHaRaCtEr aRC with their relationship, so it has to be this way. Will's supposed to be a little DiCk because why the hell not? I don't want him to be a passive little shit that most fics have him as, where he giggles and whines and relies on Hannibal too much. Nope, this one's gonna be well-rounded and a big fucking mood.
Wow, I'm in a bit of a funk, aren't I? Look at me go, sharing my opinion with 20 people. There wasn't any smut, my bad. I'll make up for it later.
Wear your seatbelts, listen to Hozier 'cause he's a god, do your work and get off this site.