"EXCUSE ME?"

"Never mind." Teresa Brooks sniffed, escaping from her previous poor choice of words before the woman could figure them out. The more time she spent there, the more she realized she didn't fit that place. "So you were recommended by Dr.Lecter...you do sound like him"

Bedelia gave that soft, half smile of hers that was rare to see across her lips, everything about her was pure exuberance and meticulous, cold yet precise. "I believe these are common characteristics of our profession, I'm afraid." She said in that natural whispery tone she had. Her eyes wandered, analyzing her newest patient. "Anyway...I was informed that you have some...constant changes in mood, especially regarding anger control. Would you like to discuss that aspect?"

Teresa looked at her, there was something about her that she couldn't figure out somehow, but it didn't seem right, almost like she had some façade, a hidden disguise no one else knew, not even her maybe knew. That aura caught Teresa by surprise but didn't scare her off.

"Are you one of those rich minimalist people?" The suspended agent said instead, observing the small yet elegantly put decoration around her.

"My taste in furniture is quite subtle not to distract my patients, yes." Bedelia noticed her lack of attention or intention of avoiding the subject on purpose. Teresa looked intently at a glass jar of candy at the coffee table. "Although I believe that is currently not working."

Teresa gazed back at her the two exchanged knowing subtle smirks, and she chuckled. "Okay, fine, I won't look at your stuff... can I get some candy though?"

"No."

Teresa made a face and sighed, relaxing so much on her armchair that she practically lied on it "So you want to know about my mood changes, I'm not bipolar, be aware of that, not crazy either."

"I never categorized you into any of those." Bedelia retorted. "Not everyone fits into a label, and that is quite fine. The important is for you to fully understand yourself."

"Do you understand yourself completely then, Dr. Du Maurier?" Teresa raised an eyebrow.

Bedelia clicked her tongue, and crossed her legs in an opposite direction, as flashbacks of her past passed through her mind, she was indeed a puzzle piece to be solved. "No, but I attempt to."

"Look, don't get me wrong, but I want to prove I'm not crazy and get back to work. I'm not here for all this zen energy, knowing yourself type of shit." 

Bedelia concluded that this would be a challenge indeed. Why did she even choose to be a psychiatrist in the first place?

"How long have you been experiencing your mood swings?" Bedelia ignored her remark and continued directly.

Teresa rolled her eyes as if that was a useless question and all that session was unnecessary. "I don't have mood swings." She retorted a bit annoyed. "Isn't being annoyed with someone by them treating you poorly normal?"

"That depends on your reaction and how it triggers you. Everything is relative." Bedelia continued. "Do you often make impulsive decisions, Miss Brooks?"

Teresa stopped and thought for a moment about her questions.

"What do you consider as...impulsive?"

"Risky situations one would usually avoid if possible, being led blindly by feelings, rationalizing less and acting more." Bedelia could spot some conflict in her eyes. "Perhaps even following goals one would never do, but the emotion is so attached and strong that you keep following it."

Teresa shook her head, she wouldn't accept being simply analyzed by this woman, even if she was possibly correct about her assumptions.

"I'm not impulsive" She insisted.

"Then did you plan to attack Freddie Lounds when you went to visit Abigail Hobbs? Did you know she would be there?" Bedelia asked instead.

"No...no, but come on, that doesn't mean I have...anger issues or whatever you talk about" She raised her arms and shuddered her shoulders indifferently. "That's just being pissed at someone who messed up with you, that's all, happens all the time."

Bedelia nodded in silence for a minute, as if she could analyze, and calculate every sentence Teresa said, which sincerely annoyed the agent, who started to overthink how she should act instead, what if that woman never believed her sanity? Or worse, if she diagnosed her and made her lose her job.

"Alright, Miss Brooks." Bedelia only agreed silently. "Let's begin differently then, okay?" She tried to approach her more friendly, slower. "Do you have any sort of history of psychological disorders in your family?"

Flashes passed through her mind, and her heart speeded, almost like she would die. Could she have known? How did she discover it? Did Jack know? By this point her hands were sweaty, and her eyes raced through the walls, trying to keep a disguised expression.

"No" She responded right away, eyes startled, body rigid, Bedelia only stood there, watching. "My family? No, no, of course not." She shook her head. "My family's normal, just like me." She insisted. "Why?"

"It is nothing personal, just a procedure I follow with all patients," Bedelia said not giving too much info about it, already noticing Teresa's nervousness. "You say you are normal...what do you consider as normal, Miss Brooks?"

Teresa blinked at her confused. "Normal is...normal." She tilted her head. "It's just what it is, right?"

"Normal is a word, a concept created by society but often relativized by each individual," Bedelia explained. "What appears normal to me, might not be the same to you, and so on." The therapist said as the wind blew outside. "A person with Borderline Personality Disorder may believe her behavior is normal to her..." She looked right into Teresa's eyes, making her tremble. "....while that might not appear normal to another person who has a different way of thinking. Do you understand?"

"That was...oddly specific, but I get it." She clenched her jaws, gulping in apprehension. "...I think"

"What about you tell me about your childhood, Miss Brooks?" She asked instead. "Your parents for example."

"Normal fellas, nice home, cute dog, yeah, great." She skipped any sort of possible intrusion in the past, trying to pass forward the questions. "Next?"

Bedelia, gave a short smile, already figuring her out, but she took some careful steps ahead. "You mentioned the word normal again."

"You want another term for it?" She raised an eyebrow slightly irritated. "Then fine, average, ordinary, common, are you satisfied?"

"How was your relationship with your father?" She asked noticing Teresa's leg move in an anxious frantic stepping rhythm.

"Good."

"And your mother?"

"Great."

"Do you still maintain contact with your parents?" Bedelia could see her discomfort as clear as day.

"What's the point of talking about them?" Teresa hissed, Bedelia took notice. "I thought this was supposed to help me get to work"

"And it is-"

"No." Teresa stood up, Bedelia didn't even follow her figure with her eyes, she stood there, and adjusted her posture, a clinical smirk across her lips as the young woman started to walk. "This is bullshit."

"Just because you can not stand a simple talk about your parents doesn't mean it is bullshit." She says the curse word in such a soft term it makes it sound like an elegant word instead. Teresa stopped by the door. "Go ahead,  the choice is yours. Best for you to not waste your time nor mine." Bedelia established emotionless, Teresa felt her blood boil. "That way I can already provide Jack Crawford a report detailing your instability in such a basic subject such as the mention of your parents."

Teresa Brook's eyes sparkled with invisible rage, that woman couldn't be serious. She took a step forward. "You wouldn't dare." She threatened, but Bedelia didn't move a muscle.

Instead, a grin spread across her blonde plastic doll face.

"Do you want to find out?" She raised her chin to her, the attitude only irritated Teresa further. "Teresa Brooks: easily disturbed, unstable, unable to follow basic instructions or orders." She could watch the girl's body trembling. She clicked her tongue. "Unqualified for field work, recommend expulsion-"

"Shut the fuck up!" Teresa yelled.

The room reverberated with her words. Bedelia stood still as a small, discrete grin of victory began to spread across her face. Teresa's eyes widened at the realization, her legs trembled, almost failing, as she flexed her once-closed fists.

"Sit down, Miss Brooks." Bedelia DuMaurier spoke clearly, and Teresa obeyed instantly. The world seemed to slow down as she did so, her mind beginning to stabilize as the psychiatrist handed her a glass of water, the liquid reflected her concerned figure. "Take slow deep breaths," Bedelia instructed as she did as she asked.

Teresa Brooks did have a problem. And she just then realized after wanting to choke that woman to death by just saying meaningless words. She was bluffing. The bitch was bluffing the whole time and managed to get in her head. She wondered if all psychiatrists had such an offensive strategy...maybe Bedelia DuMaurier was just special.

"Now that you are recomposed, I will explain the two questions you have," Bedelia said as an ultimatum. "Number one, you stay, have sessions as you are supposed to, and then begin to treat whatever it is you have, starting to know how to contain this suppressed anger with you..." Teresa took a deep breath. "Or, number two, I'll write to Jack Crawford that you are unqualified for the job, recommending a...calmer function instead, office-like." Teresa pursed her lips. "And we both know you'll agree with that since we just witnessed what you are capable of."

After so long making fun of Will Graham for his craziness, who would've known? Teresa Brooks was a joke, a joke that if the news spread around and reached Jack's ears, she would become a failure, a disappointment, and he would have the last laugh. She couldn't let him win, not when she was so close to revenge.

"May I at least get some candy?"

Bedelia smiled pleased at last. "Yes, you may."

...

"Why is he revealing himself now?" Will Graham showed the image of the token of bodies in the slideshow he presented to his class relying on his desk while wearing that academic suit and tie that would make any student swoon.

"That's cute." He suddenly caught himself in an empty classroom, no one there, except for the voice and the person who showed up at the door, with a playful smile. Will Graham had been lecturing for no one this whole time, once again his mind tricked him. "You rehearse before classes" Teresa Brooks showed up there, just jeans and a hoodie, so casual that he barely recognized her. "Mine would cough and curse during class instead."

Will found his presence comforting, it was like she brought him back to reality by just listening to her voice. A smile opened on his lips as she approached him, his eyes lingering up and down her figure. How could she be so gorgeous even without trying to?

"Am I too early for class?" Teresa smirked but there was sweetness in her eyes.

"I don't know, are you?"He joked, and involuntarily held her hand, still with eyes sinking into hers, as a high drug effect still on.

Teresa looked around at the large but empty auditorium, most of the lights were off. "It's kinda dark in here."

"Suits me." Teresa chuckled at his joke.

Her eyes gazed down at their hands intertwined, how did they even get to this? Something about her told her to pull away, create distance, but at the same time she wanted to absorb and get lost in that sensation, his large was so soft and fit so well with hers...

"Thanks for driving me home the other night." She said a bit embarrassed. How could she get embarrassed by him? She was never embarrassed by him! "I think Jimmy drugged my drink."

"Sounds like something he'd do." They chuckled. "Glad you had some fun though."

"Yeah..." Her voice was a bit more gentle, careful, maybe even hesitating. Will knew she wasn't okay, not when her work was out of reach now. "You should've been there too." She gave a half smile. "I'd pay a hundred dollars to see you stripping in a club." He laughed.

"You could just have it for free at home." He teased and she pushed him slightly.

The silence consumed them for a moment, fading in and out as Will looked back at Teresa and tried to find the right words.

"Jack's wrong for what he did to you." His voice came out a bit hoarse, while her smile faded a bit by remembering her situation. "You're one of his best agents, it's not fair-"

"He's right." Teresa swallowed dry and he looked at her surprised. "I...I may have some problems I need to solve-"

"Brooks, that's not-"

"I'm serious." She looked into his dark but sweet puppy eyes. "What I did with Freddie was imprudent, Abigail needed to have guidance, not a fucking MMA fight in front of her." She sighed. "I need to get myself together. It's just that..."

Wil nodded, understanding without the need for her to say a word. Her semblance became sad and it broke him to see her that way. His left hand reached for her face, cupping it gently as she leaned onto his touch now completely vulnerable for once.

"You're fucking amazing to pass through this and still keep your head up." He whispered, eyes meeting. Half smile. "I almost envy you."

There was something bitter in his tone. Will had dark circles around his eyes, and a tired face with messed up hair curls on top. He wasn't fine, probably worse than before. It infuriated her that Jack could see her problems as more urgent than his. That man was broken, why couldn't anyone see it? Why couldn't anyone stand their hand for him, offer their help, or simply ask how he was?

"It's not getting better, is it?" She whispered.

Will pursed his lips, his structure trembling fragile as he shook his head. "Don't worry about me." He said instead. "You already have so much happening, Brooks-"

She removed the glasses from his face, resting them on his desk, spotting watering helpless eyes beneath that strong fortress that he tried to be. He sighed, unable to hide anything from her anymore. It was incredible but incredibly annoying at the same time.

Teresa did not say a word, neither did him, all he did was try to swallow any tear that could break free. But not for long,  as she wrapped her arms around him, very tight and still, like she could protect him from the whole wide war in a capsule of warm and safety. Hot tears rolled down his face as he trembled in her arms, her fragrance filling his lungs, as he gripped onto that woman as if his life depended on it.

Class dismissed.

...

"I was surprised when you requested an extra session." She poured wine on a glass before elegantly sitting on her gray chair, all dolled up and perfect as always. This time her posture was more rigid, careful, like she knew the danger sat on the chair before her. "May I ask why did you feel so tempted to it?"

Hannibal Lecter crossed his legs. He enjoyed the peacefulness of Bedelia Du Maurier's office, the almost emptiness of sounds, and the furniture that mixed modernity with elegance, she was indeed a woman with immaculate good taste. Maybe just not for that candy jar at the coffee table, sugary industrialized snacks, terribly unhealthy.

"A friend of mine got suspended from their work." Hannibal declared calmly, Bedelia paid attention to his words. "A poor choice got her in the situation, I feel terribly sorry for her."

He was onto something, she knew that tone too well. "Are we talking about Teresa Brooks? Do you consider her as a friend?"

Hannibal tilted his head to the side, with a half smile that expressed mischief. "We are...intimate I suppose." Bedelia did not move a muscle. "But I care about her well being, and I'm quite intrigued by her. That means she is my friend, isn't it?"

"Does she consider you her friend?"

Hannibal grinned.  "I hope so."

"Is that why you requested me to be her therapist?" 

"I just wanted my friend to receive the best health care." Hannibal lied through his teeth, leaning closer on his seat like he was excited about something. "Have you met her already? What do you think about her?"

Bedelia kept a stone-cold face. "I am not allowed to speak about my patients."

Hannibal almost laughed at her remark. "I am well aware of the ethics of our profession, Dr. DuMaurier." The next sentence became closer to a rather sinister undertone. "She's quite an interesting individual, isn't she?" Bedelia did not reply. "Vivid, impulsive, almost destructive. She is the embodiment of society's hidden nature."

"Does that make you curious?"

"Greatly." He nodded. "There is something...wild, in Teresa Brooks." He commented. "From the way she acts on crime scenes, with her morals interfering with her judgment, from her distancing in relationships and avid casual, sex-motivated ones," Hannibal added with a smart insight on the subject. "It's like all her choices are seen as ephemeral ones, none as important as her missing puzzle piece."

"And what is the puzzle she is building?" 

"That is what you'll discover, won't you, Dr.Du Maurier?" His smile reminded a shark, eyes wide and dark, with a hint of a blood-lusty sparkle within them. Bedelia did not allow herself to shiver, but if she could, she would've done it. That gaze emitted true menace and danger. "But from your first session I believe you already discovered much." He nodded. "You are a good professional, so you must've diagnosed it right away."

Bedelia shook her head. "I won't discuss my patient with you."

"You mean the patient I gave you." He corrected in a rather offensive way. "Remember that, doctor." He clicked his tongue while adjusting his tie. "Now, where was I? Ah yes...intense emotion shiftness, abandonment and attachment issues, desire to take risky or unsafe decisions, impulsige behavior, destructive attitudes, that is, without being aware of family history of disorders..." Hannibal listed out the symptons with much careless or concerned behaviour, a sif he was reading out a shopping list. "All of it leads to conclude..."

"...Borderline Personality Disorder." Bedelia Responded instead, her semblant completely frustrated to have that man dictating on her patient, reading it so well, having a plan behind it all. She was fooled by him once again.

"

Eureka, doctor!" He teased. "I knew a professional as you would never miss those symptons."

"You already knew it." Bedelia looked at him with a hidden rage that, that silent, deadly feminine rage she always covered up with a plastic smile. "Why then, have you recommended me to be Miss Brooks therapist, if you were so certain about her diagnosis?"

Hannibal looked away, at the window where a gray sky hugged the atmosphere, wrapping its' monochromatic aesthetic all over the surface of that area. A faint smile crossed his lips.

"I'd like to know more about, Miss Brooks, you see." He gazed at his psychiatrist, able to feell her fear. "But unfortunetely, as we already noticed, she is not someone to open herself so easily-"

"You're using me as a mean to reach your goal." Bedelia concluded. "What do you plan to do with Teresa Brooks, Hannibal?"

Hannibal tilted his head, thinking for a minute. "I only wish to understand..."He  scoffed. "Understand what Will Graham finds so fascinating in her..."

"Is that jealousy, I hear?"

"Not at all." He shook his head. "Both Will and Teresa...they intrigue me." He clarified. "Contrasting natures that I've never seen before. Both with much potential..."

"Potential for what?" She asked cautiously.

Hannibal only smirked as he adjusted his suit. "I'd like for you to not ommit me any details, Bedelia." He said ina  rather menancing tone this time, making sure to pronounce her names with all letters. "It would be rather...disappointing if you failed to trust me, your colleague."

"I'd be breaking our code as professionals for it."

"Well, it's not like you haven't broken ethics and morals before, right?" He recalled her patient's death issue, the main deadly striking point to defeat her. He got up from his seat. "I'll see you on our next session, thank you for having me. Have a good day, Doctor DuMaurier."

Once Hanninal crossed the door, Bedelia DuMaurier did not scream, groan or curse. She only dropped the glass on her hands at the floor, as a black cat bothered by anything in its' path. She watched the small pieces glistening within the small gaps on the wooden floor, what a wonder would it be if Hannibal Lecter had tripped over them.

Shook her head, reseted her mindest once again, as a machine.

Time to clean the mess she had made.

...

"It's been a while. Have you remembered you have an aunt?" Delilah's voice invadedcher ears through the phone call, clearly hurt.

It has been quite a while since Teresa had reached her. And in the meantime, many things have happened. Realizing she indeed had a problem was probably the best excuse to call her aunt again, and blame her rage on her mind.

"How are you?" Teresa ignored her complaints.

"Alive." Delilah hissed. "If that's all you wanna know."

She rolled her eyes, although her aunt couldn't see them. "You know I care about you."

"A nice who cares wouldn't threat her aunt."

"I didn't mean it!" Teresa sighed. "I was just...angry at you, please Aunt Lilah."

"Did you even visit your mother recently?" Those words punched her in the stomach. No, she didn't, Teresa didn't have the guts to do it, especially now that she realized she might be just as crazy as her mother. "She committed another suicide attempt on tuesday. You weren't there for her"

Teresa closed her eyes counting to 10. It was the 4th time her mother had tried to end her life. The first happened when she was 5. The second when she was 12 and they tried to hospitalize her. The third, when she was already in the mentail health clinic, at an event, when an italian song came on, and all her memories flooded back like a tsunami. And now, this was the fourth.

"...I didn't know."

"The nurses tried to call you, but you didn't pick up the phone."

Because she was too busy getting wasted on a club. Teresa cursed herself in a whispery tone.

"What motivated her to it this time?" She asked.

Delialh took a moment to answer. "She saw him. On the news."

Teresa frozened. Her mother saw him, Jack Crawford, alive and well on the news. How could the nurses be so imprudent to leave her next to the tv screen? And worse, watching the homicide news.

All this time they tried to build the narrative that Jack had died, or that he disappeared was now gone. Her mother saw, and that triggered her mind so badly she wished to die.

And while Jack destroyed her mother's live he also destroyed hers at the same time. A fucking record.

"Shit." Was the only answer she could provide as she ran her hands through his face.

"Tried to cover her breath with the pillow...luckily a nurse came in to give the medicine just in time." Delilah explained, carrying huge sadness on her voice. "She needs you there, Teresa."

Teresa swallowed her crying before she could sob. "I can't." She shook her head while gripping onto the phone, her knucles turning white. "I can't face her, no."

"She's your mother."

"She doesn't know me!" Teresa yelled, her neighbours probably heard it. "She doesn't know my name, she doesn't know I'm your daughter, I'm just a stranger and whenever I try to talk to her, when I tell her the truth she begins to hate me, over and over again, I can't do it anymore."

Delilah, from her apartment, even now alone, on the sofa with a glass of gin, waving goodbye to her every once in a while boyfriend, Santiago, as he crossed the door after a storming night, tried to be optimistic.

"If we keep on contact with her, maybe-"

"You say that cause she remembers you." She responded sharply. "Because she has memories of you back then, while I..."She gulped. "I only existed after him. I am the memory she decided to erase."

"Don't say that...she's your mother, she loves you"

"But she hates me." Teresa shook her head. "I know she does. She knew she did. No matter how hard she could try to love me, I would always remind her of the man who abandoned her, who lied to her."

"Teresa, please-".

"Staying next to her is like sitting next to a fucking bomb."  Teresa groaned. "I'm not gonna let her destroy me just as she did to yourself." Her body trembled. "I'm not crazy like her, do you hear me? I won't turn out like her." It's like she repeated that to her own self.

Delilah only stood quiet, feeling pity to see how the situation became out of control. She couldn't do anything about it.

"Daniel passed by the other day." The name made Teresa paralyze. "He said he's worried about you...that you never texted him since-"

"I told you to never repeat that fucking name again." Teresa interrupted, her generosity and kindness had gone. "I don't want to hear it."

"You push away all the goodness in your life. Can't you see you're the one destroying yourself?" Delilah pleaded. "I love you, Teresa. And it hurts to see my niece wasting her life over foolish matters like this. I love you, your mother loves you, Daniel still loves you."

"You're all fucking fake bitches that's what you are." Teresa cursed, unable to hold back. "You don't get to say how I feel or what I should feel. I don't trust any of your so called advices."

"Just listen to me-"

"You know what? I'm done. I don't want your forgiveness. Save your prayers to yourself."

Without allowing her aunt a second to respond, Teresa turned off the device. Her eyes narrowing as she blocked the contact, even with some hesitation.

How could she understand what was important to her? Delilah didn't know bullshit of what Teresa went through. She was an adult by the time her mother twisted. She had her life, her husband, who died in an accident only years later.

She didn't hear the curses, or the invisible fights and the memories that floated within her house and her mother. She only knew those issues many months later, tried to help, and when it wasn't enough, sent her to a mental health clinic. That's not ecen a fraction of what Teresa went through.

All that contained hatred gave her a bitter taste in her mouth, as if she tasted her own poison. She needed to escape that madness, needed a way out, but how?

When she realized, his number had already been dialed. "Just come over already."

...

She doesn't remember correctely how it started or how it finished. As far as Teresa was concerned, Will Graham came through her apartment's front door and was immediatly attacked with her kisses.

He only grinned in response, mumbling a "What happened to you?  Is it that Hormone phase of the month?" But he didn't stop her. Instead, got the opportunity to get his hands all over, exploring each curve and trace of her skin (yes, the clothes were gone quite fastly).

He already knew the way to the bedroom, damn it that apartment had already turned into his second home by now. And this time Teresa wasn't drunk, but her kisses wete just as sloppy and desperate as that day. She didn't talk, she only mumbled "Fuck I need you" only to make him hard enough to wrap her hands around his cock. By witnessing the effects of her actions, she would answer "Not so fast, I want this to take a while."

Will Graham did not know he was being used only to drift from her problems, but he didn't mind, it was a mutual benefit, both for her amazing sex (she was a goddess on that subject), but to also escape his own demons.

In that term, they quite fitted each other very well.

Not as well as how he stretched her pussy and made her moans fill the room. Her neighbours had a hard time, poor things.

Hands explored his chest, the slight abs now exposed to her, down to the legs, and even a light slap on his butt that made him chuckle. "You're something else, Brooks." Will retorted before smirking maliciously. "Turn around, my turn."

Eating out and spanking was never on Teresa's plans in a week day, but hey, at least she was having it. And Will was great in both subjects, from the way his tongue knre precisely how to twist and turn, wet and warm on the precisive locations, to how his large hands created red marks across her soft brown m skin.

There was some difference between their sex now and the casual one they previously had. More kisses were shared, slow, intimate ones, eye contacts that spoke volumes, the lack of communication of what to do overwhelmed by the actually knowing what to do.

She wouldn't say Will Graham was her best friend, but if she did, that would be similar to fucking your best friend. It's the act of knowing so deeply that the feeling turned out deep as well.

So that's how it happened, how did end? Maybe with one of his hot groans, climaxing into her mouth, or maybe was it on another round? With her juices all over his lips, that he licked and smirked like the devil afterwards?

It could've been 1, 2, maybe 3 times in fact, to be exact, yes, 3 rounds of endless fucking, touching, tasting, at this point they could just make a sex tape.

But now he was there, head on her chest, eyes innocent and sweet, as her fingers nuzzled on his hair, tracing soft patterns in an inner peacefulness moment.

"You gonna talk about the motive of this now?" He whispered, Teresa startled herself by his sudden question. "Come on, i know this wasn't just a sudden peak of lust."

Teresa sighed, since when did he start understanding her so well, and worse, just by the sex? "It's nothing." she responded.

"Liar." He teased, looking up at her with those puppy eyes. "You know that what we talk or do in this bed stays in this bed."

She gave a half smile by the vow, it was stupid but had a nice ring to it. "I'm just stressed."

"Your suspension?"

"That too."

Will continued with his cheek glued to her skin. His hand caressing her belly, jt was almkst adorable how clingy he could be after sex when close to that person.

"May I ask about the rest?"He continued, Teresa pursed her lip thinking. "What is done and talked on this bed..."

Teresa chuckled. "Okay, fine." She sjghes as he listened attentive. "I argued with my aunt."

"You have an aunt?" He raised an eyebrow. "Thought you were just a lost girl raised by monkeys on an island."

She gave a playful but not painful slap on his head, Will giggled. "Can't believ you just fucking compared me to Tarzan." She rolled her eyes. "But yeah, i have an aunt. Just one."

He nodded. "And why did you fight?"

Teresa sighed. "It's...complicated. But we disagreed about something, overall."

"Why can't you agree?"

"She doesn't understand it."

"And I assume you know it all." He teased. "Did you even try to see it through her perspective?"

"Many times."

Will understood in silence, although he didn't force her to say the main topic of her argument. He just wanted ti suppirt her and be there.

"If she loves you, she'll come around."

"I don't think she will this time." Teresa only responded quiet, observing the ceiling and the fan she recently installed spinning around. "Do you have problems with your family too?"

Will gave a half smile. "I wouldn't say I really have one." He retorted. "My mother left when I was still very young. I never really knew her."

The subject seemes to bother him "Damn, you got issues" She teased triying to lighten him up. "Should I make you call me Mommy during sex?"

"Don't use that Fred shit on me please." He laughed.

She caressed his head with gentless, a smile across her lips. "What about your father?"

"We used to move a lot, worked for the marina." He said a bit careless. "We weren't very close."

She felt bad for him. "Family fucking sucks." Teresa said and he agreed. "At keast you learned how to drive a boat."

"It's called sail." He corrected.

"Oh my God, shut up." She laughed and pulled one of his hair making him whimper.

"You're going to pay for that." He teased, releasing from her strentgh and wrapping his arms around her, as a warm blanket, Teresa giggled, completely vulnerable and delicate under his touch. It was almost adorable how she could switch in moments like this, letting her defenses crumble. Her eyes were the most remarkable oak shade as he looked into them. "Hey." His voive was hoarse but kind. "If stuff like that happens again, you don't need to call me for sex." Teresa stared at him silent. "You can talk to me."

She almost feared this proximity way too much. He was too good to be true. What if he would get tired of her? What if she wouldn't be enough? What would he think of her after her plan to ruin Jack would be concluded-

"Hey, Teresa." He grabbed her chin to make her stop spiarling and stare at him. "You heard me?" She nodded subtly. "Good, you better keep that in mind." He reassured. "Now stop thinking, come here." He cuddled against her, her face nuzzled on the space between his neck and his shoulder, soft lips touching her hair on top, as his hands ran up and down her back gently. "Stop thinking so much..."He whispered as a mantra.

Teresa Brooks usually was the impulsive, agitated, stubborn type, but in that moment, in Will Graham's arms, she only wanted to believe in that fantasy, be that calm, secluded girl in his arms, immersed in his essence in a world of their own where their ghosts faded away.

When she realized, she had already fallen asleep.