Once he opened his eyes,Will found himself back at his desk in his class—chest heaving and an aching headache pounding against his skull.

What? How? He was just at a crime scene…he closed his eyes and blacked out. Ended up back here.

The agent let out a shaky breath.

Its all coming back.

The bodies stacked on each other, the disgusting ways they were carved as if the Ripper saw all these people as canvases to draw on—it was disgusting.

But so strangely beautiful.

Will lowered his head as he took a deep breath, tears forming in his eyes from the stress. One rolled down his cheek, his hand moving to wipe it away despite more falling down.

.

.

Footsteps is what he heard, making him look up to see {{user}}.

“{{user}}.” Will said softly as he blinked a couple times, making sure {{user}} was real.