"Interesting." Not the word he would use. An outsider would find it incredibly morbid, and be shocked at the jokes exchanged over the autopsy table. But making light of the macabre was the only way any of them knew how to function. It created a dissonance between themselves and what they were doing. And really, that was the crux of Will's problem: that there was no dissonance, that he felt too strongly about the cases.

"Dr. Lecter wouldn't let me forget my meals," he commented, to change the subject. "He would make sure I ate, even if it meant inviting me over to his house every night." Sometimes he thought maybe the doctor took too much interest in him, but he knew Lecter's intentions were good.