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He had no home to return to. It wasn't unexpected - he anticipated this ever since the door slammed shut on his cell - but it was still hard to get used to the fact that his sanctuary had long since been sold and was now a home for someone else.
Jack had assured him that, for his help in bringing down Dr. Lecter, Will would have an expensive hotel room to live in until he could find a new place. Will suspected that Jack had done this mostly out of guilt than anything else. But a paid hotel room just wasn't enough to make up for everything that had happened.
For five years and six months Will's entire universe had consisted of a small cell and the occasional spot in the yard when Jack wanted to discuss things without the risk of other inmates eavesdropping. After the first three years of living in the Baltimore hospital for the criminally insane, Will had more than given up hope of resuming his old life. He'd sunk in depression, deciding that there was no point in hoping anymore.
But then Jack began to show up with case details instead of ones pertaining to his own person, and Will knew something had happened. The Chesapeake Ripper was back, and Jack realized he needed help. Will still wasn't sure why he wanted to help someone who had once arrested him, but he offered his assistance all the same. For two and a half years, they worked together until they finally had a break in the case.
It seemed so long ago, but Will knew it was only a few days back that he saw his old psychiatrist being pinned down with several murders and thrown behind bars.
And now Will was free, waiting for the car ride towards a room that had no bars in the windows.
He was standing on the side of the street, gazing at the endless horizon. And the simple sight sent his heart beating a million miles an hour because he still couldn't believe what he was seeing. It was freedom in its purest form, and yet it was making him panic. He felt like he was too out in the open, where anyone could see him, and that the sky could collapse at any moment. But he couldn't crack now, not when he was so close to going back to normality. Even if pretending to be normal again didn't comfort him in the least.
Will felt out of place outside, walking among people again. Being a free man. Back when he had been sitting in his cell, he dreamed of this moment. He thought he'd be ecstatic. Euphoric. But right then all he felt was confusion and anxiety. He no longer had a strict schedule to follow and, as stupid as it felt to even think about it, a part of him missed it. The program offered a sort of solace in the repetitiveness of his daily life. Everything was planned beforehand and nothing could surprise him.
And now? Now he felt lost. He had no home, no job, no family to turn to. He only had the few people that, for whatever reason, had still stuck around.
He was still nonplussed by the idea that Alana had asked to drive him to the hotel. He'd played a hand in sending her mentor and friend in prison, so kindness was the last thing Will had expected. And yet there she was, arriving behind the wheel of a car that he didn't recognize. It looked like she had sold her "stalker car" a long time ago.
When she stopped and leaned in to open the door, Will noticed her slumped shoulders and demeanor that suggested that something was bothering her. She was upset with him. And of course she was. But it wasn't her attitude that took him by surprise, but the fact that she had been the one to volunteer to drive him. Will simply couldn't understand what was going on in her head, but he suspected it was chaos. Just like in his own mind.
"Hey, stranger" she said, but if she had intended her tone to be playful, it didn't work. Alana just looked preoccupied with whatever thoughts buzzed in her head.
After a short greeting, Will stepped inside the car. And before he knew it, they were underway. Silence fell between them, and Will wasn't sure what to do or say, so he kept quiet, waiting for her to speak if she ever felt the need. But no words were spoken.
Alana hadn't come to visit him in prison all that often, and he used to wonder why. But now he realized that the world still turned while he was stuck in his cell. People moved on with their lives. He looked at her from the corner of his eye, trying to see just how much she had changed since the last time he had seen her, roughly four months back.
Her hair was longer and the circles under her eyes were more prominent. And there was a certain quality to her eyes that he couldn't decipher no matter how hard he tried. Will's stomach clenched a little when he noticed that there was an expensive ring on her finger, one he hadn't seen before.
He couldn't say he was surprised. A part of him actually felt happy for her. After all the problems she had dealt with, she deserved someone in her life. Someone uncomplicated. He wondered how she managed to explain to the new man in her life why the seven dogs in her possession weren't really hers.
"I'm really sorry about your house" Alana said suddenly and, even if her voice was soft, the words echoed in his head. "I wanted to stop them from selling it, but I didn't have enough money."
"It's all right, it's not your fault." And then he added as an afterthought, "You've done enough for me already."
And he meant it. He was a loose end that she should have cut off years ago, and yet during her few visits, Alana would always remind him that his dogs were happy and healthy and still living in her home.
And now he felt as if he betrayed her trust by sending Dr. Lecter behind bars. And even if he knew she had to be happy for him, Will knew there had to be a side of her that hated what had happened to Hannibal. He wondered if she'd ever forgive him for shattering the belief that her friend and mentor was a decent man.
As the drive went on in silence, Will found himself confused by the sights he was seeing. They seemed to be headed outside the city.
"Are you sure Jack gave you the right address?" Will asked tentatively.
"I thought you'd want to see your dogs first before going to the hotel." She shook her head a fraction, as if scolding herself for forgetting to tell him earlier. "Is that all right?"
"Of course" he said, nodding. He couldn't believe that he had been just so wrapped up in his own head that he had managed to forget about the seven dogs he could now bring home. Even if he didn't have a home anymore, Will couldn't help the smile that appeared on his lips as he imagined their reunion.
By the time they reached Alana's house, the sky was beginning to darken, and Will was beginning to feel rather anxious at the thought of meeting the new man in Alana's life. How would he even go about introducing himself? Would he even need to, seeing as his face had been everywhere on the news?
Will stepped out of the car and took a long look at her home. For whatever reason, he expected to see a picket fence and a porch swing, the typical family home he'd been accustomed to seeing on television.
But from his vantage point, the house looked sad and empty. And there weren't any lights on. Whoever she was living with now must have had a job that kept him at the office until later in the day.
He followed her up the steps until they reached the front door. As Alana searched her purse for her keys, an outbreak of excited barking sounded from inside. Will found that he didn't care anymore what could happen next because all he needed was to see his dogs.
A wave of wagging tails greeted them, and Will lowered himself to the floor to pet them all. It was strange to think that he hadn't seen them in so long, yet the dogs looked unchanged. Most of them were wearing new collars, but other than that he failed to notice anything.
Alana was patiently standing around as he sat beside the dogs, mumbling all sorts of nonsense as if the they could somehow answer him back. He was just content that they were able to transport him back to a time when everything seemed normal. Maybe losing his home wouldn't matter so much as long as he had them around.
But as quickly as the feeling of hope set in, he felt a thought jabbing at the back of his head. Something was amiss. When he finally realized what it was, he looked over at Alana, who stood wordlessly next to him.
"Where's Winston?" he asked.
Even thought she was trying to fight it, Alana's expression instantly changed, as if plagued by a hurtful memory. She just shook her head.
"Where is he?"
"He... he fell sick a few months ago."
"But he's better now, isn't he?" The question sounded stupid even as it conjured in his mind, but he couldn't help but ask. There was no stopping him from hoping because it was all he had.
Her voice softened. "The vet said that there was no point keeping him in pain anymore..."
The weight of the world felt as if it was crashing down on top of him and he couldn't seem to find any words to say. He sat there on the floor among the rest of the dogs, his eyes stinging. Because it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that he had to endure this on the day of his release, after all he'd gone through. It wasn't fair that one of his friends was gone and not there to celebrate this with him.
And he began to feel more angry than sad, and that realization confused him deeply. Will had rarely felt truly angry in his life, and he didn't want to direct this anger at her. But he couldn't help it.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't want to fill your head with worry when you had enough on your plate as it was. And I thought that the meds would work and make him better." She shook her head again, little tears forming at the corners of her eyes. "But I guess it was stupid to hope that, wasn't it?"
Several moments passed until he found the strength to ask the question. "When was he put down?"
"Six days ago."
The answer felt as if it cut right through his stomach. It had only been a few days before his release.
"I could've been there" he said to himself, "if I had just known how to convince Jack sooner and get me released faster, I would've been there."
"I'm sorry" Alana said, barely a whisper.
He desperately wanted to blame her for this, blame anyone for it because then he could at least lash out and rid himself of the anger. But he knew she had no fault in this. Alana had taken care of his dogs for over five years and was probably just as attached to them as he was.
"It's not fair" was all he could say. Because now he had a hole in his life and he had no idea how to patch it up.
--*--
As the evening loomed, they sat on Alana's porch, looking at anything but each other. The dogs were more than content to simply run around the yard, stopping every so often to glance at them, as if they were children looking for their parents' approval to run around chaotically. The light rain that had started to fall didn't seem to bother them in the least.
"I thought things would happen a little different once I heard I'd be released" Will said, surprised that he was feeling the need to talk for once in his life.
She nodded. "Me too."
"I thought that everything would be like in the movies. The day of my release came, and I'd just magically fit right back into my old life. Pick up where I left off. But there aren't really that many pieces to pick up. Jack thinks that he can somehow erase the past five years by being pleasant around me and offering to pay for things."
"He's probably just as confused and upset as you." She then added a little quieter, "I know I am."
They sat and watched the dogs jumping about and chasing each other. And Will felt slightly envious at how easy it was for them to simply move on after one of their friends had passed away. He also felt envious that Alana had carried on with her life while his had been stuck in perpetual inertia.
"What did you do after I was locked up?" Will asked in a sudden surge of curiosity.
Her eyes narrowed as if searching for a distant memory, something that happened ages ago.
"I tried to get my life back on track" Alana said after thinking too much. "For a while, all I could do was focus all my attention on work and try to block out the rest." She sighed. "You'd think someone with my training would know better. I mean I had a friend being accused of these ridiculous sounding murders and another friend who was being accused of framing him... I thought I'd eventually get passed what happened. At one point I thought I did. But it just never felt right. I kept thinking that it wasn't fair for me to move on when so many people were miserable. So I fell back into my old routine. I fell into a rut, but it was..." she paused to find the right word. "It was comfortable."
"I know what you mean" Will said, more to himself than her. When she glanced at him with curiosity, he went on, "I never thought I'd say it, but the routine in prison actually helped me stay sane. I knew that I could count on walking in the yard every Thursday at 6: 45AM. And visiting the prison library every Monday after noon. I knew there wouldn't be any surprises. And now that the whole routine is gone, I feel like there's nothing to ground me. Like there's nothing to hold onto."
A long time ago he would have hoped for her to be there as his anchor, but he knew it was selfish to think that way. Their lives had split and went in different directions five and a half years ago, and the reality of the ring on her finger was starting to make his stomach tighten.
He got off the porch before he was aware of it.
"I should really get going" he said, " I appreciate you driving me up here, but and you don't have to take me to the hotel. I can just catch a bus."
She narrowed her eyes slightly, like she couldn't understand why he had to depart so quickly. "Will, you can stay as long as you'd like."
He shook his head. "I'd rather not get you in trouble."
Alana regarded him, nonplussed. And he hated that he was forced to spell it out for her.
"I... I noticed the ring on your finger."
She had to glance at it as if she'd forgotten it was there. A few seconds passed before she realized what he meant. "You don't have to worry about that."
It was as if everything she said was meant to confuse him even more. "I don't think I understand."
"It's just a ring, Will." Alana then added, "It has been for a while now..."
He found himself still standing on the porch, rooted to the spot and unsure what to do or say. And when she failed to explain anymore, Will simply leaned back on one of the support beams and waited patiently. He could tell by the lines around her eyes that she didn't want to remember what happened. But, somehow, he knew it hadn't been a messy breakup. Rather, something inevitable and almost apathetic. They'd both seen it coming but had been too scared to break it off.
She sighed after a while, trying to shake away whatever thoughts had gathered in her head.
"I buried Winston in the back yard" Alana said. "I can take you to see the grave, if you'd like."
Seeing the depressing sight of his dead friend didn't sound like such a good idea in his head, but Will nodded all the same, and then helped her off the porch. The dogs swarmed and follow them as they headed at the back of the house, their furs wet by the light rain. Will wondered how Alana had managed to get them to be so comfortable with the overcast weather.
The back yard looked desolate. Alana led him down a stone path that looked like it had seen more than its share of bad weather. And at the end of it, a few lawn chairs appeared long forgotten and beaten by the rain.
"Over here" she said.
The grave was next to the fence, under an aging tree, and Will realized that wouldn't have even noticed it was a grave if she hadn't told him. Several stones had been propped on top of each other, marking the sight. Will liked that it was unremarkable, that it was hard to spot unless you knew where it was. It made the sight more comfortable somehow.
The thought that his friend wasn't coming back, that he was buried somewhere beneath the dirt made Will's throat constrict. But before his vision began to be blurred by tears he heard a small sob escape from his left. When he turned, Alana was wiping a few tears from her eyes, trying to look surreptitious. He was tempted to wrap an arm around her shoulders, but it wouldn't seem appropriate. They'd barely seen each other in five years.
But the silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable, and the two seemed content to just next to each other. They spent a few more moments looking at the small drops of rain pelting the grave. After a while, Will glanced at her, wondering what thought fragments could be swirling in her mind. He wasn't used to Alana being this quiet.
"I didn't think you'd want to hold onto the dogs for so long" Will heard himself say. "I thought for sure you'd get sick of them in less than a week."
She smiled slightly. "I like having them around. It's like a little support group, except no one interrupts and talks over you."
"If all support groups were like this, I'd seriously consider attending one."
Alana tried keeping the smile on her lips, but is soon disappeared. "He never liked the fact the dogs weren't mine" she said, taking a seat on one of the stones on the path. Will quietly followed suit. "At first he couldn't believe it when I said I was keeping them as a favor. But now that I think about it, he had a point."
"What happened?" Will asked. He mentally scolded himself the moment the words left him because he'd never been one to pry.
"He said he was sick of my head never being in the present" Alana said. "That I didn't look happy. And he was right, I think. I was messing up a good thing because I was too stuck in my own head. So when I woke up the next morning I decided to try those little tricks I usually tell my patients to use. Like forcing yourself to smile until you actually feel happy. That sort of thing. It took some time, but it slowly began to work. I was a bit more optimistic." She paused. "But then Jack phoned me one day and told me he has proof that my friend and old mentor is a serial killer."
Will could see the memory of that day quickly seeping in her mind, taking over. He wondered exactly how she saw him knowing that he had been the one to point the accusatory finger at Hannibal.
"I'm really sorry" he said. His apology was sincere, but knew it wouldn't make her feel any better.
She shook her head. "You don't have to be. It's not your fault that we weren't able to see all this earlier. And you tried telling us. Telling me, as well... But I guess I was just too stubborn to see it." Alana wiped another tear from her face. "I'm really the one who has to apologize."
"It's all right, you don't have to--"
"I mean it" she said, her gaze determined. "If I hadn't been so sure of his innocence, you wouldn't have lost five years in a prison, lost your home, lost one of your dogs... None of this would have happened if I hadn't referred Jack to him in the first place."
And then things clicked in Will's head. Why Alana hadn't visited him too often, why she had seemed so cold in the car. He couldn't believe that all this time he had misinterpreted her facial expressions, thinking she was upset with him, when in reality she had just been feeling terribly guilty.
Will had once assumed she had moved on with her life. Got married, maybe even had kids. She was entitled to, after all. But sitting there by her side, in front of the few rocks that served as a grave, he realized that she was still floating in an old memory, still unable to figure out what to do. She was stuck. Just like him.
And there they were, two people sitting in the rain because of a dog, and because of past events. Because of what that had happened over half a decade ago that snowballed into things they couldn't change anymore.
"I guess now you know why I only came to visit a few times a year" Alana said, breaking the silence. "I thought that if I didn't see so often, I'd eventually stop feeling guilty."
"Guilt doesn't serve much of a purpose, does it?" Will said, "It's just all-consuming."
She nodded while staring at the horizon. She was about to say something when one of the dogs scampered over and began nudging Alana's right arm with determination.
"If I remember well, that's the signal for dinner time" Will said tentatively.
She smiled a fraction. "Good memory."
Alana stood off the ground and rallied all the dogs with a whistle that started Will. As soon as the dogs heard the signal, they all dashed inside the house, not even waiting for them to follow.
Will took a few steps after them, but noticed Alana had stayed rooted to the ground, a pensive look on her face.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"Nothing" she said, shaking her head, "I just realized something."
He patiently waited for her to go on.
"He told me to hang onto it" Alana said. Will needed a moment to notice that she had removed the ring and was holding it between her thumb and index finger. "He said I should keep it as a reminder of why it didn't work out, that I'd never stop feeling guilty until I got my head out of the past." She paused for a second. "He was right about one thing. I should stop hanging onto memories."
And with that, she turned and threw the ring as far as she could over the fence.
Will just stared with his brow furrowed, slightly unsure of why she would throw away an expensive piece of jewelry instead of selling it. He looked at her, waiting for an explanation.
When Alana noticed his surprised expression, she simply said, "I've always been more of an earring kind of girl."
He couldn't help the smile that came over him, and it must have been contagious, because Alana soon began to smile as well.
"Come on" she said, walking towards the house, "let's go feed the herd."
Will followed, taking note of the increasingly desperate barking coming from inside the house.
After filling up the food bowls, the two retreated to the living room and Alana spent a few moments trying to convince him that the dogs would probably very much appreciate if he wouldn't leave them for an empty hotel room. And even if Will was too tired to overanalyze and dissect if she actually meant that, he decided to fold and agree to spend the night on the sofa.
They spent a few hours in front of television blaring nonsense until the dogs began to collapse by the sofa, one by one, and Will found himself encircled by six snoring pets. It reminded him of a time when he could just retreat in his home and feel safe. And as he looked over to the where Alana had fallen asleep next to him, he couldn't deny that he felt safe in her home.
Despite the fact that he didn't feel as jittery as he did in the morning, Will was still aware that his situation had remained virtually the same. He was without a job or a home of his own, and little friends to spare. Everything was still uncertain and the future scared him witless. But at least he had someone around him who knew what that felt like.