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Will knew it was going to be one of those days when Jack knocked at his door at 6am. New crime scene at the outskirts of Baltimore; Jack was in enough of a rush that he went to pick up Will and stayed on his feet in the living room while Will excused himself to get dressed and prepare a sandwich to eat on the way. Will fed the dogs and bid them goodbye.
The car ride was tense, with Jack telling him the info they got so far and Will struggling to pay attention to it all. He knew he would understand everything as soon as he really saw the scene.
Will wasn't even hungry, but he ate his bread because that's what normal people did, right? With Jack's anxious energy beside him, he was halfway to having an indigestion.
A long while later, they got to the scene. It was swimming with technicians and police officers. It was an isolated place in the middle of nowhere, so at least there weren't a bunch of curious neighbors, but the open space gave Will little privacy to do his thing .
To look at the scene and work out the killer's actions in his mind, he let himself drown in the detail. The blood splatters, the body, the rumpled vegetation nearby. He ignored everything about the present - all the other agents, many staring at him while he stood there, with his eyes focused on the body, but seeing much beyond it.
The events that lead to the murder unfolded in his mind, even the way the killer had held himself and treated the execution revealing his motives. Still, not all gaps were filled, Will couldn't find all the answers just looking at the scene.
He told Jack what he had visualised, but didn't go into great detail. Just enough to justify his guesses and give suggestions on the way the investigation should proceed. Jack thanked him and went to talk with some technicians.
Then, Will just sort of lingered awkwardly there, lost in his thoughts, wondering if there was any other detail on the scene that could be used. His mind was muddled, a contrast of too much information and the nothingness that was both a curse and a blessing - why wasn't he thinking to his full potential? He should work more. There was a case to be solved. Maybe he could help more. Was he tired, was that it? Hadn't he slept enough? He only had, like, two nightmares that time. Although, empathising with killers was so taxing, he deserved a break from his own mind, right? He didn't have the patience or energy to let his mind wonder in the present and end up empathising with half the police force instead of saving himself for the things that mattered (Smith had just fought with his wife before coming to work, he was clearly replaying the cruel things she had said and regretting the unfair things he'd replied. He should be focusing on the work at hand, though, just like Will himself, who forced himself to ignore the man and his issues…)
Time slipped by without Will noticing. He would be sure he was losing time if not for the fact that he was rooted to the exact same spot from before and that no one seemed to be bothered or weirded out by him. At that point in his life, Will knew himself enough to recognize that sometimes his mind entertained itself too well and it wasn't always fun.
What finally got him out of the numb state he'd gotten into was Jack mentioning to someone nearby he would also like Dr. Lecter's input in this case.
Having Hannibal here would be really nice , Will thought.
At some point he took a coffee Bev had offered him so he could at least feel a little more alive.
More time passed and soon Will had been there for hours.
And then he realized suddenly that he needed a bathroom. But there was nowhere he could go.
His bladder was full and he regretted taking a coffee. But then, he was only human and he was thirsty. How were the other people so fine? Was he defective somehow? (beyond his mind, he means.)
The caffeine had awakened his intestines, too. He hadn’t taken a shit in two days and of course now shit became urgent. He started to consider just slipping away and doing his business behind a tree or something, but the scene was more of an open field and if there were further analysis of the surroundings, it wouldn't be something good to discover. At all.
He had wished his mind would stop feeling so numb. Sure, he was more alert now, but this was so not what he had in mind.
So he was just bearing it. Tensing his toes inside his shoes, digging his nails into his palm, biting his cheek. Also, praying that Jack didn’t decide to ask him to immerse himself completely in the killer’s mind again, because then he really wouldn't be able to let his mind run with the possibilities and still control his bodily functions.
Would it be so bad if he shat on his pants? Oh, yeah, if not for the fact that the smell would totally sell him out. And he was too loaded. His pants could not take more than a medium turd - he had enough personal experience to know that. Will also knew not to trust farts. It wouldn't even matter if they were deadly stinky, because there was wind and it could always be mistaken for a lingering smell of the corpse. There was no way he could release gas, because it was never only gas.
Every slight movement he made, his bladder and his intestines seemed to be at war for which one would explode and kill him first. Will kind of wished the assassin of the current case popped up from behind a bush and cut him in two already. Dead men always released their fluids and that was alright. In his case, it would be a lot of content .
A familiar car approaching was the only positive thing to happen since he could remember (Bev giving him coffee was disconsidered because even though it was very nice of her, the drastic consequences it triggered overshadowed his contentment).
Hannibal got out of his car and reached Jack, who led him to see the scene; Price and Bev explained some nuances to him. He talked to Jack for a while and probably gave his opinion on the case. Will didnt even know if Hannibal had been there for a long while, his mind was a blur of desperation. He couldn't process time anymore.
Then he suddenly noticed that technicians had started to collect their equipment. He almost didn't believe it, with how many times he had imagined such a moment coming. Hannibal had finished his conversation with Jack and was approaching him.
He greeted Will and said something about the case, but the tense man could not even focus. He was practically trembling with the effort of holding, cold sweat all over his body. Hannibal kept speaking gently with him as other people moved in their surroundings.
Will had a moment of clarity to curse his damned Pavlovian response to Hannibal’s presence. He was there. He was being kind and comforting him. Surely now was the time to let go of everything he was holding, right? He started to truly tremble.
“Hannibal, I need to go .”
“Don’t worry, they are wrapping everything up and everyone will be leaving soon.”
Will opened his mouth to clarify, to explain that he wasn’t simply tired and wanted to leave. He desperately needed to take a massive shit and pee all the water from his body. He’d never been so full in his entire life.
At last, Jack went to them and finally released him. He spoke a bit about the next steps of the investigation, but Will didn't bother to pay attention. He stopped hearing after “You're getting a couple of hours of break”.
“I drove you here, Will. Do you want to come back with me or with some of the other cars of the team? I can arrange room for you in one of them, if you prefer.”
“Uh, no, thanks. I’m tagging with Hannibal.”
Hannibal hadn't even offered, but did not seem surprised and just agreed. Jack bid them goodbye and left them.
Will gathered his last amount of strength to walk beside Hannibal to his car. Every stretch of his legs had to be calculated and he let out low moans of suffering.
Finally inside the car, Will allowed himself to panic vocally.
"Fuck, Hannibal, I'm almost shitting my fucking pants!"
Hannibal just raised his eyebrow at Will's language. He reached for a bag in the back seat and handed Will a diaper - he was always prepared.
Will knew what he had to do, just get up a bit from the seat, pull his pants down and put the diaper on. But they were still in the middle of other cars and there were people passing through. What if Jack rushed after them to say something else?
At this age, getting potty untrained as stress relief? Will wouldn't be able to take it if anyone but Hannibal knew…
Hannibal turned on the car and started moving to the small road everyone had come through.
"You can wear it, Will, I'm not letting anyone see you. You're out of there."
Will groaned a mix of fuck, please and thank you and undid his leather belt. The metallic sound was like a trigger to his body, readier than ever to let everything out . He unfolded the diaper while feeling his asshole expand once more, and this time it wouldn't stop until the diaper was full.
He had a brief moment to fear beginning to shit after he had taken off his pants but before he could put on the diaper and end up ruining the car seat.
But he had no time and no other choice. He rushed to make the change, contracting his buttcheeks to hold what was coming out already.
Will positioned the diaper, sat over it and finally, finally released what he was wolding.
First came a big turd and Will moaned while letting it out - if Hannibal wasn't such a controlled man, he would have stopped driving just so he could appreciate Will's moment of release in all its totality. The huge shit that Will had felt pushing against his hole for hours was out and smashed between his butt and the diaper.
He rearranged himself on the seat and fixed the laterals of the diaper, that in his rush, he hadn't even attached to his hips. His legs were trapped, his jeans huddled over his knees. They would stay like that because he had other priorities. He pushed again. This time, softer and wetter shit splattered inside the diaper, accompanied with several small and bubbly farts.
Hannibal took deep breaths and let out a pleased sight. He would be lying if he said he wasn't tempted to stop the car and... do something . But there were other cars from the police coming behind them and questions would certainly arise if anyone saw them stop in the middle of nowhere. To continue driving was the only way to ensure their privacy.
"Fuck." Will cursed, feeling much lighter. There was still too much inside him, though.
Now that the most pressing issue had been dealt with, his bladder was complaining again. There was so much pressure that letting go hurt. Will groaned, aware that even that wouldn't cover up the sound of his stream being released. It went on for what felt like ages and he really hoped the diaper could take it all.
"I- I don't know if..." he stuttered, still pissing, finally looking at Hannibal. He probably looked very pitiful at that moment, trying to slow down his stream.
"Don't worry, these are of the best quality and have high capacity." He took one hand from the steering wheel and guided it through Will's inner thigh and hip. He was still pissing. "It's appropriately put, despite your anxiety. Well done. Now go on, let it all out. That is, if there is still more."
Will blushed, letting out the last drops of urine.
"You shouldn't underestimate me." Will said.
"Oh, I know not to. I just like to encourage and challenge you." Hannibal smirked.
Will smiled back, embarrassed but at last relaxed. He let his body go limp, pressing himself fully against the full and wet diaper. He was so relieved he could cry. The situation was uncomfortable, but not in an undesirable way. The contents were still very warm and until moments ago, were a part of him - he wasn't disgusted by them. The tension in him was released and he turned to face Hannibal.
"I think that was the most I've ever done in a diaper. At once."
"I can tell. Nothing like work to take you to extremes. I'm tempted to make you repeat it all in the safety of my house just so I can attribute it to my name."
"I know I wouldn't be able to hold. It's always okay to let go with you. Besides, if you think about it, you're the one here with me for the release, so this moment is yours too."
A few minutes passed. Will took a water bottle Hannibal offered him and gulped most of it. He felt parched. Then, movement down his bowels started again. That was predictable, after all, such extreme suffering meant more than just one piece of shit and some fluid. No, there was more.
Will supported his weight on the sides of the seat, lifting himself. The diaper flopped down, its contents ungluing from his smeared backside. And once more, he pushed. This time it felt even better.
One more big, long shit, so much that it had reached the bottom of the extended diaper while still coming out of his hole. Will felt that pressure, meaning it didn't have where to go. He bounced a little to move it and detach it from his hole and he absolutely noticed that Hannibal ignored the road and stared at his hips. Will wished Hannibal had a super vision besides the keen sense of smell so he could see the good work he was doing.
Will needed room for one more piece to come out, and then he would be done. His tired asshole managed that one out, too. With that, Will flopped down on the seat and wiggled a while, getting everything mixed.
"You were holding a lot, indeed.”
“There is so much that it's as if I was seated on a cushion instead of the car seat.” A cushion of shit , he thought.
“Enjoy yourself. There is still a long ride home before I can change you. You might even have to urinate again. We'll truly test this top capacity diaper today.”
“Uh, I bet.” Will couldn't even muster enthusiasm after such stressful hours. He felt as if his energy had slipped away from him with the shit & piss. He felt ready to sleep like the dead. “Until then, I hope you don't mind me taking a nap. If you miss me, just breathe deeper.”
Hannibal chuckled. “I'm glad that such a predicament has not broken your humor.”
Before he could even formulate a reply, Will found himself entering a deep slumber, comforted by a big, full diaper.