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Rushing through my veins,
Burning up my skin.
I will survive,
Live and thrive,
Win this deadly game
I could never have said what I wanted to say to Hannibal. It was all just too complicated to put down into words.
But I couldn't not say anything, else I feel like I was losing him.
I had always assumed the feeling of hatred towards Hannibal from the moment that I found out what he was. I probably know what he would say to me now if I told him this:
"Are you sure that this 'hatred' isn't your own emotions towards yourself projected back onto me?"
I remember when he asked me how I would kill him. Of course, I wanted something intimate. No better way to kill a friend than to mean it. I wonder how his face would morph as I watched the life drain from his eyes. Would he know how much I took pleasure in it?
A crime of passion.
Hannibal would probably call it a crime of love.
I don't love Hannibal. No, I do not.
Just as much as he doesn't love me.
I'm not entirely sure when I decided what I would choose. I had been given multiple opportunities to run away with Hannibal, and had turned them all down. Not without at least a slight amount of hesitation, of course. But I would never let Hannibal know that.
But at some point, I made my decision. I chose.
And this choice came into action when we fought the Dragon. Hannibal gave me a choice. I could fight with him, to defeat the Great Red Dragon. Or, I could work to kill him. Surely if Hannibal had both of us against him, he would lose. There was something so appealing in a bipolar way about this. I probably should have regretted my choice. A small part of me wants to.
But I don't regret saving Hannibal.
Even if we do die in the end . . . it's better dying at peace than on someone else's terms.
He helped me up, supporting my weight in his arms. I was bloodied, and torn, gasping for air. He held my gaze, even then. I didn't get the sense that he wanted to hurt me anymore. He seemed as at peace as I wanted myself to be.
And it was then that I made my last, and final decision. I was with him. I was not going to leave him again, and I knew for a fact that he wasn't going to leave me.
This was our ending.
And I could accept that.
He held me up a little higher, shifting my attention back towards him. "This was all I ever wanted for you, Will," I looked into his eyes, and with a wave of emotion, realized that he meant it. "For both of us."
I can accept this.
I turned all of my attention towards him, hoping he could see the meaning I was trying to convey when I said, "It's beautiful."
It wasn't much at all, a mere two words, but as Hannibal's expression shifted, I could tell it was enough. This was enough.
This is enough for us.
I gripped the cloth covering his shoulder, not bothering about the blood I had smeared on the man's sweater. He leaned into the embrace, holding me along with him.
A part of me was not ready. I knew what was going to happen.
I could hear his faint heartbeat quicken as I placed the side of my head gently against his chest, taking in the final feeling of peace.
I can accept this.
Wrapping my arm around his neck, I breathed in this final moment.
And then, with an ever so light tilt, we were falling.
Whether we live or die, that's not for us to decide anymore.
I do wish I could have given you more time, Hannibal.
I wish we had more time to see where this strange relationship went.
I wish you knew that I do love you too.
And then finally, as if answering my prayers, Hannibal placed a kiss on my forehead, and I tightened the embrace, before we hit the water below us.