drbloom:

“She’s making good progress.” Alana’s hands curled against her lap as she thought about the girl. “Made it into a few more group therapy sessions.” A nod followed suit with her shorten explanation, unsure as to what to fill him in on. His growing personal interesting in Abigail was concerning as it and the last thing she wanted to do was to add fuel to the fire. 

Her fingers unfurled from one another, making their way from folds of her dress back onto the polished surface on the desk. The psychiatrist digits did not make contact with the wood though, but rather, with something soft and much more flushed. There was a full minute before the realization of what she had exactly connected with run through her mind. It was Will’s hand. “I-” she began, biting back her small moment of panic; knowing how the profiler reacted to such a situation. Her arm hurried to pull itself back to her side. “-Sorry. I’m sorry about that.”

“That’s good to hear –” he breaks off and holds his tongue. Alana had made it clear that she did not want his personal involvement in Abigail’s affairs and though he understands where the doctor is coming from, he finds it hard to hold back. He feels a staggering amount of obligation towards the girl; he had killed her father, after all. 

                                The last time Jack sent me to a dark place,

                               I brought something back

                                                                                                                    A surrogate daughter?

The feeling of softer flesh against the back of his hand bring him back to present day and he stiffens under the contact. His eyes drop down to Alana’s hand which was now placed atop his. He purses his lips, but says nothing against it. It felt nice.

She was quick to drop the hand, though, and he fails to ignore the sudden emptiness the lack of contact left behind. He keeps his eyes trained on the wood beneath his fingertips instead of on her clear blue hues.

“It’s okay.”