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ᴡɪʟʟ ɢʀᴀʜᴀᴍ; ᴄʀɪᴍɪɴᴀʟ p̶r̶o̶f̶i̶l̶e̶r̶ (
2017-05-10 06:14 pm (UTC)
Will's eyes close, eyebrows pulling up. His hands are on his hips, now that he's confident the man in this room isn't going to try to jump him the second he sees a weak spot in his arresting officer.
"There's that one-liner affliction again." Will says, slow not because he's savoring it, but because it's difficult to decide on exactly how annoyed he feels. "You must be hilarious at gang meetups."
But how annoyed does he need to be? He's backing up, step by easy step, sidling towards the door. "I think it's against policy to let you smoke in your holding cell. But I'll make sure they don't
your cigarettes before we've got you back out of here." And he slips out the door, with just the barest nod to indicate he isn't storming off, just off to do another errand.
And if he brings a sandwich from the break room fridge back with him, when he comes to give Rustin Cohle the estimate on his handler finishing talking to Will's captain, well. Cohle doesn't comment on it.
Will wants to feel smug that he was right. Instead, his stomach just feels cold the entire drive to the airport.
It's not a long flight. It's just quicker than a car, and easier to bill the state police department for it, citing work expenses.
He drags himself out into a different scent of humidity - New Orleans to Lubbock Preston Smith International Airport. Will hasn't been to Texas in about six years, hasn't lived there for even longer.
The hospital smells like high-grade germicide and fake lemons. It still has the age-decay scent of a regular hospital, but there's a bitter ring in the air. There's too much forced cheerful lighting for there to be a lot of shadows, but the few that gather under front desks and in elevator corners seem to vibrate with screams.
He's left outside room 511. He's told there's no roommate in there yet, that he'll be alone to talk to his
. Will thanks Nurse McDonald, waves him off and stands outside the doorless doorway.
And then he steps in. "I told myself I wouldn't say this." The view of the bed is clear from the doorway, even just two steps inside. It's weird seeing anyone with IVs hooked up to their hand. The skin around Cohle's eyes is so dark that Will isn't sure it's black eyes or lack-of-sleep bruising.
"But I definitely told you so."
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