[ If he wasn't quite possibly half the way into his bottle of scotch, Will might have redirected the question.
Or found some psychoanalytical way in which to respond to it.
Instead, he stared at Bucky for a long minute, before shooting back what was left in the glass and moving to stand up. ]
The F.B.I. keeps me around for one reason; I'm effective at hunting the monsters.
[ He explained as he undid the first few buttons of his shirt and undid the cuffs. The majority of the shirt remained buttoned (this wasn't an excuse for a strip tease) as he reached behind himself and yanked the the fabric up and over his head. Dropping the shirt on the table he stood up so Bucky could see his torso.
Beneath the flannel the profiler liked to the hide himself within, the man was actually incredibly fit. But that wasn't what this was about. His torso was a storyboard of scars. The most prominent of course was the one that ran the width of his abdomen, a blow that could have easily disemboweled him, had the perpetrator not wished it otherwise. But there were others.
The gunshot wound on his right shoulder, punctuating an older stabbing scar in the same area. Scars that had been fixed but the Riverview orientation team, but were still in place included the couple doozies that Dolaryhyde had given him.
Will lifted his floppy hair, exposing the scar at the top of his head again, where someone had taken a surgical bone saw to his body possibly intending to open up his skull. That movement, the shift of his hair and the turn of his head, also drew attention to the scar just under his cheekbone. Mostly hidden by his scruff and the shadow of his cheek, it still suggested he'd been stabbed through and through in the face.
Dropping his hair and straightening, Will reached for his shirt but he was in no hurry to drag it back on. He had no shame in the scars. ]
There's a smaller one, under my jaw here, where one of the monsters was making ready to cut off my face, while I was still awake for the process. [ He tilted his head slightly as he plucked at the buttons to open them. ] In some ways, that one is the most horrific, even though he was stopped before he could do more than make the initial incision.
[ Shaking the shirt out, he shrugged back into it but didn't bother buttoning it closed before lowering himself back into the chair. ]
I am ... intimate with the monsters, Peter. I know them when I crawl inside their heads, and they crawl inside mine. Mutually assured destruction.
no subject
Or found some psychoanalytical way in which to respond to it.
Instead, he stared at Bucky for a long minute, before shooting back what was left in the glass and moving to stand up. ]
The F.B.I. keeps me around for one reason; I'm effective at hunting the monsters.
[ He explained as he undid the first few buttons of his shirt and undid the cuffs. The majority of the shirt remained buttoned (this wasn't an excuse for a strip tease) as he reached behind himself and yanked the the fabric up and over his head. Dropping the shirt on the table he stood up so Bucky could see his torso.
Beneath the flannel the profiler liked to the hide himself within, the man was actually incredibly fit. But that wasn't what this was about. His torso was a storyboard of scars. The most prominent of course was the one that ran the width of his abdomen, a blow that could have easily disemboweled him, had the perpetrator not wished it otherwise. But there were others.
The gunshot wound on his right shoulder, punctuating an older stabbing scar in the same area. Scars that had been fixed but the Riverview orientation team, but were still in place included the couple doozies that Dolaryhyde had given him.
Will lifted his floppy hair, exposing the scar at the top of his head again, where someone had taken a surgical bone saw to his body possibly intending to open up his skull. That movement, the shift of his hair and the turn of his head, also drew attention to the scar just under his cheekbone. Mostly hidden by his scruff and the shadow of his cheek, it still suggested he'd been stabbed through and through in the face.
Dropping his hair and straightening, Will reached for his shirt but he was in no hurry to drag it back on. He had no shame in the scars. ]
There's a smaller one, under my jaw here, where one of the monsters was making ready to cut off my face, while I was still awake for the process. [ He tilted his head slightly as he plucked at the buttons to open them. ] In some ways, that one is the most horrific, even though he was stopped before he could do more than make the initial incision.
[ Shaking the shirt out, he shrugged back into it but didn't bother buttoning it closed before lowering himself back into the chair. ]
I am ... intimate with the monsters, Peter. I know them when I crawl inside their heads, and they crawl inside mine. Mutually assured destruction.
[ He looked down and began to button his shirt. ]
You're not a monster.