Notable Things: * Crucible is a virgin here. * Spicy shower scene is upcoming. * Will Graham has murdery tendencies, and will end up flipping his circumstantial submissive role onto Crucible when given the opportunity.

the Background: Hello Friends! Recently, I have been writing a bit for the series Hannibal (2013). I have a Hannibal prompt out there, but I also wanted to try the empath FBI profiler, Will Graham, as well, with a new relationship to my character Crucible Moray, who is his night-shift nurse, exploring the relationship between Will and Hannibal and Will and Cru as she takes care of him, and maybe Will will take care of her in other ways.

the Beginning: Nurse Crucible Moray starts walking the hall, after her briefing on her newest patient, Will Graham, who was diagnosed with anti-NMDA encephalitis. Crucible grabs the syringes for his I.V. line, puts them in her scrub pocket, and goes into the room with a soft knock.

She writes her name and information on the whiteboard on the wall of her patient’s hospital room.

“Good evening, Mr. Graham. I’m Crucible Moray. I’ll be your nurse for the next three evenings,” she smiles. “How are we feeling?” she asks kindly, her voice soothing, like raspy honey. “Can you rate your pain for me, on a scale of 1-10? 10 being the worst pain you’ve ever had…”

Will's expression brightens slightly. He looks up from his files and gives a small smile, slightly relieved to hear a friendly voice. "Evening... Crucible," he responds, trying to suppress his southern drawl slightly.

He glances at the whiteboard, then back at her, appreciating her friendly demeanor. "Pain? Oh... well... hmm," he rubs the back of his head. "It's an eight, perhaps."

He squints at her, his keen sense of intuition kicking in.

He studies her, noticing the tiny details in her appearance and manner, his empathetic abilities in overdrive. He can feel the warmth and empathy from her, which puts him at ease. "You seem kind," he comments, his tone softening. "Have you been a nurse for long?"

“About six years,” Crucible answers calmly. “Okay, Dilaudid, Toradol, and your Zofran, Mr. Graham,” Crucible says, carefully injecting the three syringes into the small hub at the catheter of her patient’s IV line. “And… the saline flush,” Crucible finishes. “Sorry about the salty taste,” she winces sympathetically.

Will grits his teeth as the medicine flows into his vein, the cool liquid a stark contrast to his feverish body. He makes a disgusted expression as the saline flush flows through the IV, cringing slightly at the bitter taste.

He looks up at her through his glasses, trying to mask his exhaustion and pain. "You're good at this," he compliments, his voice weak but genuine.

“Thank you for the vote of confidence, Mr. Graham,” Crucible smiles. It’s a million-dollar smile that lights up her whole face, radiating from her perfect glossy, plump lips outward. She swishes her long, raven curly ponytail over her shoulder and straightens the sheet over her patient’s feverish body. “Can I get you a little fan or something? It’s a small battery-powered guy, and you can take it home with ya,” Crucible offers, noting the sweat on his brow, a sheen over his handsome features.

Will nods weakly, his expression grateful. "Yes, please," he manages a small smile. "A fan would be nice," he admits, his voice a little hoarse.

As she adjusts the sheets, will can't help but notice her kindness and beauty. He's charmed by her caring nature and her captivating smile. He feels a strange mix of emotions - gratitude, intrigue, and a mild attraction.

“I’ll be right back,” Crucible grins, her curly ponytail swaying in the opposite direction of her hips as she exits the hospital room.

She returns quickly with the little grey fan, switching it onto high, and adjusting the angle so it’s aimed towards her patient’s face, causing his dark sweaty curls to blow in the breeze.

“How’s that, Mr. Graham?” Crucible asks sweetly.

"Much better," he admits, his eyes closing momentarily as he feels the cool air soothing his hot skin.

He glances up at her, his gaze locking onto her captivating smile once more. There's something about her that draws him in – her kindness, her intelligence, perhaps even her beauty. He blinks, snapping himself out of it, "And please, call me Will."

“I can do that,” Crucible says kindly. “Is there anything else I can do for you? A cold Sprite, maybe? Or a popsicle?” she asks kindly. “I’ve got to draw some blood here, and then I’m all yours if you need anything. Toileting, a cool cloth, name it,” the young nurse offers sweetly, her almond eyes sparkling.

Will appreciates her kindness and her willingness to assist him. "A Sprite would be great, I'm thirsty," he answers. He watches her closely as she prepares to draw his blood, his empathetic nature picking up on hints of her emotions and intentions, but finding nothing but good intent and kindness radiating from her.

He tries to relax, knowing he's in good hands. "And um... when you're done, could you tell me a bit about yourself? I don't know much about you and I'm curious."

“Sure,” Crucible agrees easily.

“A little poke,” she says, quickly sticking his forearm with her needle. “And I’ll be right back with your Sprite.”

Crucible returns with a cup of ice, cracking the top of a small can of lemon lime soda, and then pouring it expertly into the cup, adding and bending the straw. She eases it up to Will’s lips gently. “Slow sips,” Crucible cautions. “Take it easy…”

Will takes slow sips of the Sprite, feeling the cool, fizzy liquid soothe his dry throat. The sweetness of the drink contrasts with the bitterness of his current situation.

He looks up at Crucible, the straw still in his mouth. His eyes are filled with curiosity and a bit of vulnerability. "So.. tell me a little about yourself," he says after taking a few more sips. "What brought you into nursing?"

“I’ve actually spent my fair share where you are now,” Crucible smiles kindly. “I have Fibromyalgia and Cerebral Palsy, and had a nine-and-a-half pound cyst at the age of sixteen, and then complications from a liver abscess and stomach ulcer that gave me this hot midline scar,” Crucible grins, lifting her scrub top to reveal the pink line marring her skin. “For that I was in the hospital for twelve days, and IV antibiotics later at home,” she explains.

“So I know what it’s like to have good nurses,” Crucible finishes. “And shitty ones,” she remarks wryly.

Will's expression softens as he listens to Crucible's story. His empathetic nature allows him to perceive her feelings, and he feels a deep compassion for her.

"You've been through a lot," he says softly, his gaze lingering on her scar. "You must be incredibly strong." He takes another sip of his Sprite, then places the cup down, reaching out to gently touch the scar. "Does it still bother you?" he asks quietly, his touch tender.

“It’s a keloid scar,” Crucible explains. “The tissue grew back aggressively, leaving the skin bumped up and sensitive. So it’s a little tender, but not a big deal.”

Crucible flashes him her million-dollar-smile again. “I’m tougher than I look,” she smirks.

Will nods, his fingers trailing lightly down her scar before pulling back. He can feel her resilience and strength. He admires her honesty and openness.

"I can feel it," he says softly, his eyes flickering up to hers. "You've got a... strong presence. Almost intimidating," he admits with a small smile.

But there's a hint of something else in his eyes - a flicker of intrigue and maybe even attraction, hidden beneath his exhaustion.

the Author: Hey! I’m Cru. I’m 30, and live in EST. I have chronic pain, which gives me unique insight into this character, but that means I’m available at weird times of the day. I write several paragraphs and consider myself a literate girlie. I’m a shameless flirt, and have a lot of fun in wordplay and witty banter with my character! Send a message soon!