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The sun was low, and the temperature dropped as snowflakes fluttered towards the ground. Life in the town was slow and dull, nothing compared to the lavish life Hannibal had back in Baltimore. 'This is good,' Hannibal had said. 'We have to lie low.' Hannibal hated hiding as much as Will had, but they kept their spirits up, hoping for the best. They lived in a small rented townhouse hidden in a forgotten city in Canada.
Despite the cold and dull conditions, Hannibal and Will liked it here. As long as nothing too drastic happened in the town, they would be able to live peacefully under the watch of FBI authorities, specifically Jack Crawford. The one place in that town Hannibal and Will like to go to is the local rose garden. It was small, but it was quiet and calming. There was a small flower shop in the middle of the garden. The shop held flowers of all colors, the owner being a shy man with dark hair.
Hannibal and Will would occasionally walk through the garden in silence, calming themselves from their paranoia for a few minutes.
Will walked towards the shop, looking at the freshly cut stalks. His hair had grown longer and curlier, as well as his beard became more unruly on his face. Hannibal watched from behind Will. His silver hair had grown longer, as his scruff had grown coarser.
"Aren't they lovely," A cheery voice arose from behind Will. The voice in question was a short brunette woman. She wore a long gray coat matching with her charcoal black outfit. "It's amazing how he's able to gather these flowers. Even in this weather!"
Will stiffened and nodded. The woman was too close for his liking. When he looked back at Hannibal, he didn't seem to enjoy it either. Hannibal edged closer toward Will protectively. Will's breathing escalated. Hannibal's reaction was understandable if Will had been in his position, he might have reacted as well. Will knew what Hannibal intended. He couldn't let it happen, not when they were so close to freedom.
Will took a step back. The woman rook a step closer. Will could already tell this was going to be an insufferable game. A game he wasn't willing to play.
"Will," The lady whipped around in surprise. Hannibal stood behind both of them. "Let's go." Will nodded silently and left without a word.
"Whatever you are planning, stop it." Both men walked together in an odd silence.
Hannibal sighed. "She was getting too close-"
"She was flirting. A normal human reaction, Hannibal." Will had interrupted.
"That doesn't make it ok. You were uncomfortable-"
"Hannibal," Will stopped walking. Hannibal stopped as well. "We have made it too far into this game. I will not have you ruin it because of your pettiness." Will said with Ice covering his tone like the snow at their feet.
Hannibal clenched his jaw. He let out a breath but said nothing, and continued Will, followed closely behind.
"I'm just trying to protect you," Hannibal spoke in a soft tone.
"I know, Hannibal."
Will stood by the fireplace holding a hot cup of coffee. The steam curled and danced from the red cup as if syncing itself to the dance of the flame. Will sighed and took a sip from his cup. It was comforting, giving Will a sense of life. Hannibal towered behind Will and rubbed his shoulders. Will leaned back, propping his head on Hannibal's shoulder.
"Hannibal," Will started. Hannibal leaned in closer to listen. "What do you think that woman recognized me?"
"I don't know," Hannibal admitted. Will sighed. There was a thud at the window that caught their attention.
"What was that?" Will whispered to Hannibal. Hannibal tore himself away from Will and slowly stalked towards the window in question. Hannibal lifted the blinds. No one was there. On the window sill lay a beautiful crimson rose, thorns and all. Hannibal opened the window and carefully took the rose. He quickly shut the window again and brought down the blinds.
Hannibal made his way back to Will. Will stared at the object in his hand and gently took it. He stared at the rose puzzled.
"Why is this here?" Will asked. Hannibal sighed.
"I wish I knew Will. Maybe it's the wrong house." Hannibal tried to reason. Will wanted to believe him, but he couldn't bring himself to do so. With the comfort forgotten, Will and Hannibal tried going to sleep.
The moon spilled into the shared bedroom. While Hannibal slept, Will could only stare at the light.
The next morning the town was filled with hushed tones. Rumors spread quickly, and it quickly got to Will. Someone has died. Will has seen the body. Their head cut off post-mortem, the wrists slit, and the chest made into a gaping hole. Where the heart would be, a bouquet of coral, peach, and orange roses, the body was hung from a tree by the wrists.
Will didn't like this. If people thought too hard about this, they could find them. They had to leave but they couldn't. If they left now, it would be too suspicious. Will became visibly uncomfortable. At home, Will didn't speak no matter how hard Hannibal tried.
"Will, what's wrong?" Hannibal asked. Again, Will was silent.
That night, Will only had nightmares. Nightmares were something that hadn't occurred since the fall since he'd run away with Hannibal. Again the wendigo had replaced his beloved Hannibal. An elk paced at the doorway. Will's beast was awakened and ready to come out once more. Another flower at the window sill and another murder to follow.
The murder was the same, but the flowers were of different colors. Yellow with red tips and lavender roses filled the gaping wound. Will couldn't stand it any longer. Will desperately needed to know who this murder is.
"When you stare at the bodies of those who died, what do you see?" Hannibal questions. He's sitting on the couch with his legs crossed as Will paces the room.
"They're trying to impress someone, but why.' Will sighs and drags his hands on his face.
"Think of the colors of the roses, their meanings," Hannibal suggested.
"One red rose shows up at our window sill the night of the murder. They're trying to get one of us to pay attention to them."
"Who do you think they're trying to impress?" Hannibal asked.
"I would assume you. You're the famous one." Will stopped to stare at the flames of the fireplace.
"What if it's you?" Hannibal asked. Will scoffed and looked at Hannibal.
"I am of no importance I just follow you around, and danger comes running." Will turned to look at Hannibal.
"You underestimate yourself," Hannibal spoke from the truth. "The flowers, Will."
"Yes, flowers, obviously they are educated on the subject," Will said, deep in thought.
"Perhaps the man who runs the flower shop," Hannibal suggested.
Will thought it over. "No," Will concluded. "He's too shy, wouldn't hurt a fly."
"It is possible to misread people, even with your abilities," Hannibal said.
"Maybe." Will bit his lip.
The third murder and the town grew restless. The flowers were deep red and burgundy, the killer, seemed to grow restless as well. Will did something that night he knew Hannibal wouldn't approve. Will grabbed his coat and snuck out from the townhouse to the rose garden.
Will didn't expect to find anything there. The garden was dark and eerie. Snow crunched underneath Will's footsteps. Once he got to the middle of the garden, Will sat on a nearby bench. For about 10 minutes, he sat there in the cold until a figure sat down next to him.
"How'd you find out?" Will asked.
"When he called your name." Will turned to see the face of the figure. The flower shop owner sat next to Will.
"Was Hannibal, the one you were looking for?" Will asked the man.
"No, I was trying to impress you."
"Why?" Will asked.
"Your intelligence amazes me. You were able to trick so many people so flawlessly. Even Hannibal Lecter fell in your trap. These murders were confessions of my love."
"If I say yes, what will you do?" Will asked. The man looked at him with gleaming eyes.
"We would kill Hannibal together, just like the others. His bouquet would be red and white roses, signifying our unity." The man said this so very wistfully.
"If I say no?" Will asked. His face fell.
"Then, I would ask you to eat my heart."
"A strange request," Will commented, the man only shook his head.
"To be that close to you would be an honor."
"Very well." Hannibal's voice shocked the poor man.
"I see you found me," Will spoke to Hannibal in a bored tone.
"I always do."
The poor man's ending was swift. Hannibal and Will's last meal together in Canada was shared under candle-light. A warm heart stew pared with a rich-tasting wine. The vase in between them held two roses. One white and the other red.