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Will had a few certainties growing up, cardinal truths that were undeniable in his eyes.
The first was that dogs were much better than people. No dog would ever lie to you, or use you in any way.
The second was that being rude and being straightforward were two very different things, but for their own convenience people would confuse the two, pretending not to know where one ended and the other began.
And finally, the third was to never trust psychiatrists . They were the worst, along with doctors, when it came to Will and his peculiar condition.
It was for that reason that, after Hannibal had insisted that it was just a simple mental illness, Will had found himself sitting in an uncomfortable chair in the emergency room, next to Beverly, waiting for the nurse to deign to come to them.
“Good afternoon,” the nurse smiled at them, “please, follow me.”
As they walked, the girl decided to explain where they were going. “From what your colleague told us, we thought it might be a tumor. Neurologist Solace will be taking care of you.”
Will found himself nodding. He just hoped Neurologist Solace would have basic human decency and not publish anything about Will and his weird brain .
“Welcome.” The man was blond, had blue eyes, and a firm handshake, which he gave to both Beverly and Will. Then, without missing a beat, he looked at Will and asked. “Tell me, Mr. Graham, how are you feeling?”
Will appreciated that he was talking to him and not about him . Not many doctors did that when it came to unstable patients .
“I feel… unstable.” Will decided to be honest, buoyed by the confidence and resolve that Beverly exuded. After Will had nearly contaminated the crime scene, she had decided that she would be by his side the entire time. “I have headaches, hallucinations, and when I go inside a serial killer’s head, I can’t get out. Their actions feel like my own.”
“I see.” Dr. Solace nodded. “Could you clarify what you mean by going inside a serial killer’s head ? It sounds a lot more taxing than the average profiler.”
“I have an excess of mirror neurons.” Will explained, hearing Beverly’s breathing hard, knowing no one else knew. “I’d rather this information stay in this room.”
“I’m here to treat you, not write scientific papers.” Dr. Solace waved his hand. “When did the headaches start?”
“About three months ago.” Will said, frowning.
“History of genetic disorders?”
“Not that I know of.” Will shook his head.
“What about accidents? Head trauma of any kind?”
“A violent encounter or two.” Will admitted, thinking of Budge and Hobbs.
“Did you have any medical checkups after the event?” The doctor looked irritated by something.
Will looked away. “No.”
“We’ll do it today.” The man promised, taking a deep breath. “When did the hallucinations start?”
“I’m not sure,” Will admitted, feeling embarrassed, “I just became more and more aware that I wasn’t dreaming.”
The doctor nodded.
“We’ll do an MRI to see what we’re dealing with.” He said, scribbling something down on his clipboard. “To put your mind at ease, I don’t think it’s a tumor.”
“It doesn’t make me feel any easier.” Will admitted. “What if it’s a different mental illness?”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” Beverly promised, squeezing Will’s hand gently.
Will squeezed it back, grateful for her support.
***
“It’s anti-NMDA receptor encephalitis.” Dr. Solace announced, showing an MRI of a brain completely on fire.
“I’m afraid I have no idea what this is.” Will confessed, relieved that he wasn’t becoming like all the other assassins he caught.
“Anti-NMDA receptor encephalitis is an autoimmune disease in which the immune system produces antibodies against NMDA receptors in the brain, causing inflammation and a wide range of neurological and psychiatric symptoms.” Dr. Solace explained, smiling gently. “It’s often caused by insect bites. Do you spend much time outside?”
“I fish. And I live in Wolf Trap.” Will replied.
“That’s where you got infected.” The doctor nodded. “Would you like me to explain the treatment you need to follow for a full recovery?”
“He’ll make a full recovery, right?” Beverly asked.
“It’s very aggressive, and it’s almost at its peak, but we caught it relatively early, so it hasn’t developed an underlying tumor, which would make both conditions worse.” The answer was. “With treatment, about 80 percent of patients make a good functional recovery, although that can take several months. Recurrence occurs in about 10 percent of cases. I would say Mr Graham is not in the top ten percent, by my estimate.”
Since he had not commented on the scan other than the disease, Will tended to believe him.
“What do we do now?” Will asked.
“Let’s reduce the autoimmune activity and we work to reduce any seizures that might occur. Do you know if you’ve had any seizures, Mr. Graham?”
“I’m not sure.” Will shook his head.
“He had one on the way in,” Beverly said. “That’s also why I dragged his snotty ass here to the ER.”
The doctor smiled slightly at Beverly’s comment. “It’s nice to see that he has a friend like you,” he said. “So, I understand you live alone. We’ll be giving you a high-dose corticosteroid and intravenous immunoglobulin shot to suppress inflammation in the brain and neutralize circulating antibodies. Normally, I’d tell you to stay here for the rest of your treatment, but I can understand that you don’t want to. You’ll still come twice a week for the first few days, and then once a week. Is your friend willing to drive you? I’d rather not see you driving a car like this.”
“I will.” Beverly nodded. “Is there anything he can take for the seizures?”
“I’ll prescribe some medication to control them, with the appropriate dosage.” Dr. Solace sighed, looking at Will. “Mr. Graham, I hope you understand that if it doesn’t work well, I’ll have to bring you here to remain in the hospital, no matter what your personal preference is.”
“I work as a profiler and a teacher at Quantico.” Will said instead.
“Stop consulting and stick to teaching.” Dr. Solace said. “I’ll write you a medical report to give to your boss and Human Resources.”
“Human Resources?” Will asked, blinking. “I’ve never been there?”
“Hasn’t Jack talked to Human Resources?” Beverly looked furious. “Damn! I’ll take care of it, Doc.”
“Excellent.” Dr. Solace nodded. “Allow me to ask, but are you autistic?”
“Yes.” Will confirmed. “Asperg.”
“Do you have a psychiatrist who knows how to treat autistics?” The doctor pressed. “The therapy that works for neurotypicals doesn’t always work for neurodivergents.”
“I’ll ask Dr. Lecter about both.” Will promised, even though part of him ached at the thought of parting ways with Hannibal.
For a psychiatrist, he was a good one.
“Perfect,” Dr. Solace nodded, before saying, “As far as nutrition goes, there’s no prescribed diet, although you should eat a balanced, nutrient-dense diet. Lean proteins like fish, chicken, legumes; vegetables and fruits; whole grains. You should reduce sodium, increase potassium, avoid refined sugars, get calcium and vitamin D, and stay hydrated.”
“I can do that.” Will nodded. “Can I keep fishing?”
“Sure.” Dr. Solace smiled. “Just make sure you don’t get exposed to any more bites. Maybe get yourself some bug spray.”
Will muttered. He would have to get the most natural one possible so he wouldn’t poison his dogs.
“Do you have any other questions?” The doctor asked them.
“No, I’m fine.” Will replied.
“Call me if you need anything.” The man remembered. “Now for the injections.”