Devils in the Details

Chapter Seven // The Osprey's Shadow

CLOSE TO ST. BARTHOLOMEW'S HOSPITAL

Will stood on the pavement of a London road just as the soft mist of rain began to fall over everything. It was one of those stereotypical days in the city-wet, cold, grey, and bleak. He let out a sigh, watching as his breath condensed in the air.

His was the look of a man who had been through Hell and back through his experiences, and that's certainly what he felt like at the moment. The amount of effort he had put into the current case (and the almost nonexistent return he'd gotten out of it) had drained him.

At least he did have money. That was one thing that certainly worked out well. Sherlock had given him more than enough for him to continue living on comfortably for quite a while longer.

There weren't any new crimes to be solved today, not that he was aware of. Then again, he hadn't spoken to Sherlock Holmes in a few days...Or rather, a few weeks.

The man hadn't sent him any news of there being any new evidence to examine, but he had a feeling it was because the consulting detective didn't like him all that much.

Will didn't care, really. There were lots of people he didn't like. Lots of people didn't like him. It was that simple, really. He could just carry on with what he was doing and no one would mind. He glanced at his surroundings, shoving his hands into his pockets for the little warmth it provided him.

Even though he felt like had been somewhat imprisoned within the boundaries of London, he still felt mostly at ease among the city streets. Every day it was evoking more feelings of home - but whether it was forced or natural was debatable.

Right down the street was St. Bart's Hospital. He was heading for the morgue, of all places. It wasn't because he wanted to spend time around dead bodies as Donovan at Scotland Yard had joked. No, he had someone to see. Someone very alive.

Will found himself bouncing on his heels before he walked into St. Bart's. There was a part of him that was hesitating and holding him back, of course. He could not deny how his heart was beating just a tad faster than usual.

Walking into the building, he crinkled his nose at the overly sanitized smell. No, he never got used to that. It brought back too many bad memories. Just about everything brought back bad memories now days. Again, it was something he just couldn't get used to.

It wasn't just various things in the day time that ended up shaking him. At night when he was supposed to be getting rest and avoiding the pain of it all, he ended up getting some of the worst images.

The nightmares were certainly getting worse. The feeling of murdering someone just became more and more vivid until he woke up feeling as if his hands were wet from blood. He had thought that getting therapy from Dr. Lecter would help fix that, but that had not been the case. Besides, Dr. Lecter wasn't exactly in the best situation to be helping him out yet.

Will did his best to get these thoughts out of his head. He had a case to work on, after all, even though he seemed to be the only one who was still taking it seriously. Apparently Sherlock and the Watsons had much bigger problems and cases...not that it mattered to him, of course.

When Will finally found his way to the morgue, he spotted her standing there. Her back was facing his as she examined a dead body with gloved hands. Maybe it was the dead body, the stuffed one she was supposed to be doing an autopsy on for all this time.

But no - there we no threads, no stuffing, no buttons eyes. It was just a simple dead body, probably killed by natural causes.

Now that he was aware that the body was just a simple body, Will was able to switch his focus to the woman he had really come to see. Although he wouldn't admit it, the autopsy was just an excuse. He needed to have some way to see her again.