You have reached Dr. Lecter's secure voicemail (Snowblind)

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[tablewithoutpity]

[Hannibal had likewise been thinking of contacting John after what happened in the cells, to see how he was doing, so he was pleased to receive a message from the man. The content made him frown faintly in concern.]

Of course, John. I am always available to help a friend. What has been troubling you?

[jumpthegun]

I have two friends who both care about me a lot. We've been through hell together here. One of them at home. They're very different people, though. And they've got different ideas about how best to deal with trauma.

One of them thinks it's best to just press on. There's no real time to stop here. We're running out of time. We need to save everyone. Every person's vital to that effort, and I'm one of the few doctors here. I have a lot of medical supplies. I'm a trained trauma surgeon and battlefield medic. So, fight on, deal with everything later when there's a better time for it.

The other one thinks it's better to... fall to pieces, I guess you'd say. Just break, and deal with everything that's been building up now. Let people handle it while I'm out of commission. [Useless. Is what he really means.] And try to piece myself back together in the middle of everything going on that's still going on. And going to keep going on.

I ended up having a bit of a row with my mate who wants the latter. We made a deal that we'd talk to each other about some of the things happening here. He needs it. But neither of us has really been following through.

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And how do you feel? Which friend do you believe is right?

[jumpthegun]

If I were giving advice to a friend, I'd tell them they should talk about it, deal with it. It's the advice you're supposed to give. I've been to therapy. That's what they want you to do.

But I can't afford to have a mental breakdown. Too many people would worry when they should be taking care of themselves. It'd be selfish.

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Imagine you are on an airplane, traveling with someone who is under your care. A child, perhaps. Now imagine there is an accident, and the cabin depressurizes suddenly. The panels above your seat open, releasing oxygen masks. One for you, and one for your child. What is the first thing you do?

[jumpthegun]

[... He knows where this is going.]

You put your own mask on first, of course.

But this isn't a plane crash. I don't need to do this. I can manage. I've been managing. I should be able to manage.

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I'm certain at least one of your previous therapists have brought up the danger of "should." One may just as well believe that they "should" be able to hold their breath long enough to first put the oxygen mask on their child. And perhaps they can. What then? The oxygen in your lungs will not last forever. Eventually you will have to take a breath. There is no shame in that, no moral judgement.

[jumpthegun]

You don't understand.

[It comes out in a rush of typing.]

Hannibal, I saw Mary down in the cells. I saw my wife. Before all of you turned up, they injected us with something. Some of us were having delusions. Then hallucinations. I saw her. I thought she was alive again. I really thought she was there with us.

The last time I had a breakdown, I saw her, too. At home. She was murdered. I've been hallucinating her at home. I want to be able to see her again. I want to hear her, talk to her. I could even feel her sometimes. If I take a breath, it's her. And I don't want to forget about the person sitting next to me. I can't.

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You believe that because you saw your wife in the cells, a breakdown like your previous one is imminent?

[jumpthegun]

No.

[He's getting frustrated with himself not being able to explain.]

I believe that if I have a breakdown, I know what's going to happen. And I don't think I'd want it to stop if it means having her back. Even if it's not really her.

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My apologies. I believe I understand now.

I have known a number of people who have, shall we say, invisible companions. Some are people I've treated, yes, but some are friends who are entirely capable of going about their lives in, for lack of a better word, a normal way. Having your wife by your side need not prevent you from fulfilling your perceived responsibilities here.

[jumpthegun]

[John stares at that message for a long while. On the one hand, it's... something he wants to hear. On the other. That seems ill-advised. But Hannibal's the actual psychiatrist between the two of them.]

I guess I'm a little confused. Isn't hallucinating people typically considered a bad thing? People get institutionalized for less.

[tablewithoutpity]

Typically people are institutionalized because they are a danger to others or themselves. "Danger" to themselves being somewhat broadly defined. If you were unable to function due to this singular hallucination, then a case could be made. Likewise if she were telling you to do things you would otherwise find abhorrent. Or if you were entirely unable to distinguish the reality inside your head from that outside your head. But it sounds to me that you know this is a hallucination. And that it in and of itself is not interfering with your ability to function. Indeed, from what you've told me, it would appear her presence is helping you to function.

[jumpthegun]

Hannibal, what if someone else finds out it's happening? They'll think I've gone mental. Sherlock's already picked up on it before.

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It is always your choice how much or how little you reveal to others. You do not owe an explanation to anyone. If it is helping you function, what other people believe is irrelevant.

I am curious how Sherlock reacted before, however.

[jumpthegun]

['Why do you care what other people think?' It's a demand that's been leveled at him more than once by Sherlock. John never has a very good answer other than 'because they're wrong.' Because he's worried it will get someone he cares about hurt.

Because it got Sherlock 'killed' years ago.]

I don't know. It was a while ago.

[He knows. Can picture Sherlock gazing down at the spot where he knew the hallucination to be.]

Sherlock's different from most people anyway.

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From what little I've seen of him, I must say I agree.

How are you feeling about all this?

[jumpthegun]

He's a good man. And a good friend.

Most of the time.

[Some of the time.

... A not insignificant portion of the time.]

I really dunno how I'm meant to feel. I guess... I'm okay?

[Oddly okay when he'd come into this conversation feeling despondent, frustrated, and confused. He's still rather miserable, grief-stricken, but there's something.]

Hopeful?

[Mainly hoping that if he really does let go, lets himself crack, and Mary's there again... maybe it's not something he needs to deal with. She's good for him. She's always been good for him. As long as he keeps a check on what's real and what's not, that should be okay. Right? Hannibal seems to think so. Which means he has faith in John's relative mental stability.]

Ask me in a few days. I'll have a better answer. How are you doing? I know you were tortured in those cells with us. If any of that was me... I know I wasn't in my right mind, but I'm so sorry, Hannibal. I really am. You shouldn't have had to go through that. No one should.

[tablewithoutpity]

There is no need to apologize, John. Certainly not after you were so kind to me following my own violence toward you and your friends. I was at least aware of what was doing, even if I was not wholly myself.

[jumpthegun]

I know. It still bears saying.

[Given he feels guilty and Robert Miller is unlikely to provide an apology.]

How are you holding up, though? You and the other people without the lines can actually remember what happened.

[Blessing and curse that that is.]

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It was trying, particularly on the heels of what occurred after my death. But I believe I am faring better than most. Certainly far better than Will, I am afraid.

[jumpthegun]

Oh... he seemed like he was holding up better than some other people.

[Mainly, John himself.]

He came in to talk to me after all of you woke up injured. Do you think he'll be all right?

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I cannot say. I hope so. He was of great help to me after the first night, when I was myself rather poorly. But by the time we were rescued, the ordeal had taken a heavy toll on his mind, which has always been somewhat fragile.

[jumpthegun]

You had to pull him out of the hallucination, right? Delusion. Whatever you want to call it, I suppose. Both. The belief we were in those cells, locked up. It was hard to let go of everything my senses were telling me. I can imagine it'd be even harder for a bloke in his position.

[Who already has trouble defining reality. There's a whisper of a voice in the back of John's mind.

Well, there's the pot calling out the kettle.]

Or for someone particularly sure of their senses. Did you have any trouble breaking free?

[tablewithoutpity]

I had the benefit of extensive contemplation of how my senses are being toyed with. It is an unpleasant thing, certainly, but it has helped me somewhat to keep an open mind. I also benefited from being brought out of the delusion by Dr. House.

[Never mind how.]

I brought Will out as best I could, but his psyche was torn in the process.