IC contact [Mask or Menace]

[infomodder]

"Gone fishing."

[ so don't leave messages to ruin the after fishing glow !!!

your one stop shop for not leaving him alone ]

Comments

[sizetwelve]

You could simply put a metal bowl over a pan. Keeps the heat more even, is all. Just fill the bottom with two or three inches of water.

[ What normal conversation! Like nothing at all happened, but it very much did. Even if Mary is also very accustomed to bouncing back or even barrelling on ahead when needed, her worst expectations make it a struggle to accept the ease with which Will cooperates. At least she accepts it more than she had with Sherlock (by his design).

Abigail sounds like an abrupt topic shift while Mary is still circling around Will's lack of relevant questions, but the girl never seems to be that far from his thoughts. It doesn't help put Mary at ease (why ask now?), but it's an answer she can give fairly. If she wished, she could cut all affection out of her voice, but that wouldn't help her any. She's fond of Abigail, and pretending she isn't won't charm Will Graham any. ]

Not really, unless you count her box of Cheez-Its getting stale in the pantry.

[ There's a further moment of considering before she shrugs and adds on while measuring out the white chocolate, keeping Will in her peripheral all the while. There's no hurry, as the cupcakes are still baking. ]

I found a hair elastic of hers when cleaning one of the guest rooms last month. ...Why?

[infomodder]

[Couple inches of water, can do. Splendidly so, this apron she's left for him to wear does not fit him. His body, sure, but the words...Will does plenty in the kitchen. The kitchen is a great place, a place where people come together as much as it is a place where they're completely torn apart. He looks over at her mention of Cheez-Its and thinks well, yes, he could joke about how April and he have run out and take it home, play it off as something he's definitely not hoarding or anything.

But a hair elastic. Oh. Oh goodness, he can't get away with that one the same, can he? Like hell is he going to be giving it to April, and he has no intentions to grow his hair that unruly. She asks for reasoning and Will's eyebrows lift. He knows this might sound odd.

He's going to get it out there anyway. Be honest, politely.]

May I have them?

[Why? Because Will has a small shrine of her old belongings, and he assumes that Mary hasn't absorbed Abigail's elastic into her own collection. It's possible she threw it away, even! But if she hasn't...]

[sizetwelve]

[ WOW. So because she's been lying to his face since the day she met him, she owes him Abigail's Cheez-Its? I think not. ]

I'll get the elastic for you.

[ Does that answer your question? But before she goes to head for the stairs (why would she worry about leaving Will Graham alone in her kitchen?), Mary twists her lips in thoughtful consideration before explaining further. ]

I was keeping the snacks there for when she returns.

[ DON'T TAKE ABIGAIL'S STALE CRACKERS, Mary will be good. If he looks, he'll even see that half of the shelf is still empty while everything is jampacked, as if purposely reserved. ]

[infomodder]

[No worries there, either. Mary turns to leave and Will continues on in the kitchen. Bless his heart, he's serious about these cupcakes. Seriously invested, now. What's the alternative, stop and risk the hurricane of his mind dissipating, physically, all over Mary's floor? That is exceptionally unkind of him, so he busies himself as much as he can. He throws a look her way at the idea of Abigail returning, and yes. He does look in the pantry and see that. He almost snags those staling crackers, too. But she'll return to him at his post. And he'll reach out to take that elastic with small interest if there's any hair attached and a grumbled, almost defeated:]

She's not coming back, you know.

[It's the bitterness of a father who didn't lose his children, but had them taken. The difference between a child who has a legitimate, tragic accident and one that happened because of another person just not doing what they were supposed to. Going out of their way to be dangerous, taking pride in it. In Will's case, he doesn't have only "God" to blame. He knows exactly who is at fault, who should be rotting in jail.]

April keeps to her three months rule, but that's never come true with my people.

[Abel Gideon. Freddie Lounds. Frederick Chilton. Abigail Hobbs. Hannibal Lecter.

His people.

Whether they like it or not.]

[sizetwelve]

[ Never having come true doesn't mean it won't, but it isn't Mary's place to argue that. It's always a game of chance, anyhow, and is she really one to dazzle with optimism once the veil had been lifted? Maybe, but not in such patronizing ways.

The topic of Abigail leaves her quiet for a bit as she peeks at the progress of the cupcakes in the oven. Why is he bringing her up now? Obviously she is always on Will's mind, but why ask for her things now? Has Mary lost the right to protect her and hers, or is he reminding her of something tangible that they can still bond over? Is he simply more shaken by Mary's revelation than he had originally seemed? Will is never completely out of sight, even as she sympathizes and finally responds.

If John left...to a fate like Abigail's... ]

I hope that she'll be the exception, then, assuming the city doesn't fall apart in the interim. [ Don't really want Abigail coming back into pestilence. ] In a world where we can cheat death, the thought of you mourning her again is too sad. I wish it were different.

[ But she wishes a LOT of things were different. If wishes were horses? Waste o' time. ]

[infomodder]

[Will is rather a dog given the form of a man, has been treated as such (and various sorts of dogs, from good to despicable); patronizing is not the worst she could come across as, not to Will. Arguably, with what she's already revealed today, patronizing might be much better by comparison.]

Can't live a life in mourning. No glory in that. [Flowers!!! The connection springs to him with little basis for it, other than what he's been adding to the lawn outside his place with April. People want to live in glory, and die in glorious ways. Poetry, books, songs, movies, so much to sing about glory, even when it came at great costs. Will didn't want that. Abigail hadn't either. She'd just wanted to live, and what little time she was given was the opposite of glorious.] Maybe she's better off where she is, anyway. Finally got the chance to. Rest.

[What cruelty could possibly be in such a statement is completely missing when it comes from Will's mouth, when he's speaking of Abigail Hobbs. It was nice of her to cheat death, again, but where else is she going to find something that lets her, at last, stop being afraid? Worried? Stop wondering who she might meet on the street, what they'll want from her? Who is friend and who is foe? The stove is hot, Florida is hot, the world around them is heated and mad, but none of that is what has his face flushed, blinking a few times in rapid succession as he goes about putting the dirty in one bowl so he can transfer it all to the sink at the same time. That isn't a reaction to outside circumstances pressing inward, but quite the opposite. Emotional and raw and Will shouldn't have brought this up over cupcakes, they're supposed to be happy. Not sad, sappy, goopy, melting messes.]

[sizetwelve]

[ Is he better off, though? It isn't her place to say such a thing, least of all now, but no matter what he says, she wonders at the entangled trap of family and what it means once you find it. Perhaps it's safer for Abigail to rest. Perhaps it's...healthier for Will to force himself to move on. But that's all...ideal, and nothing about either of their lives fits that image. John was still in the clutches of grief long after Sherlock's death, and if he hadn't returned, Mary isn't entirely certain John ever would have become whole again. (But then if Sherlock hadn't returned, John never would have known the truth, and what bliss.)

She can't help but think of Sherlock and how worrisome it's been knowing he can lock himself away for hours, perhaps days, in his mind palace, given the reach of his imPort abilities. Will isn't Sherlock, but he shares enough similarities that Mary can see him doing the same thing, with or without special powers to enhance the effects. April had hinted at the depths of his despair, but Mary had already gotten a peek. It's all she had needed, really. How he latches onto things like hair ties, the tremble in his voice, it's enough.

Will Graham don't you dare think you ruined this cupcake fest instead of the crazy liar right here, are you insane. Mary is the one who brought the dead back to life and pulled at the threads of his grief. He ought to stick her head in the oven instead of cleaning up. ]

Do you wish you were...resting, too?

[infomodder]

[Cleaning up and fixing things is what he does. Bits of the house falling apart? He can probably get it back in order. Boat motor making a strange noise? He can have it purring like the most contented cat there ever was with a little effort. The messes made with blood, bone, and human remains take more work and aren't exactly his favorite, but he does well enough when he has what he needs to get them done. When he works with a competent team who'll ignore his "different" nature. So what if he's not elbow deep in greasy engine parts or using tools that definitely came from him knowing what he needed instead of guessing? There are dirty pots and pans and utensils and the like, that is the current physical mess he can focus on and take care of, and damn is he going to.]

No. [Stern, perhaps louder than it needs to be, but he's running water and that can do a number on what one hears. Of course, considering Mary's whole stint with this bluebird thing and how easily she became Freddie, Will is of the opinion she is one of those who picks up on everything, regardless of what else is going on. Short of an air raid siren blaring, a plane flying literally feet over the kitchen as they stand in it, and the other rooms being filled with loudly barking dogs and roaring lions? He's probably good to go, with her. But it helps for him to hear that, too. Vibrant and firm, no, he does not wish he was resting. They would never inhume him next to Abigail. There would be no way that their bones could rest near each other, not without that being written somewhere beforehand. If he goes home to rest, his body might still but his spirit and soul won't be quite the same. Could he have survived? Could both of them? Could all four of them have pulled through? He doubts it, and that knife has probably never so thoroughly washed as it is under the care of Will's hands.]

And I'm not just saying that in case you let it slip to someone else, [like April, Frederick, John] I mean it. This place has its ups and downs and its absolutely baffling people, but I like it here and wouldn't risk losing it.

[Which is why he has some problems with certain types, other than the baffling. Go figure.]