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The first time he saw the man in Jack Crawford's office, he hadn't expected this. He didn't really have that many expectations to begin with; maybe another new bumbling idiot he'd have to politely listen to, or another fragile man who he could push to see how long it took before his patient broke; but nothing could have probably prepared him for what happened next.
Their sessions began, like most normal sessions did... But he felt different. He felt drawn. Will talked to him about his issues, his work, anything else he could talk about, and Dr.Lecter listened. He listened with intrigue as Will rambled on and on about the killers... And was almost impressed when Will recognised his little homage.
When they found the Hobbs girl bleeding out, Will in a panic having just killed her father in front of her, his instinct took over. He couldn't stand watching. He had to act. He fell asleep in the girl's hospital room that night...
They called her, Abigail, their daughter. Yes, theirs. He'd grown to like the girl, though probably not as much as Will. He made the girl trust him, follow him, do exactly as he told her to, knowing if he had her, he had Will.
When he had sent Will after Tobias, he was curious to know what would happen... When Tobias walked into his office claiming to have murdered two officers, he was furious. Livid. And almost hoping that Will wasn't one... When Will walked in and sat at his desk... His smile was genuine. He was glad to see Will. A bit too glad.
He had had every bit well planned. To be executed without a hitch. Despite that, when they took Will away, he felt strangely alone once again. He knew he had to look out for himself first, the world had made sure to teach him... And yet, his heart somehow ached. He shed tears in front of his psychiatrist, and they were genuine. He already found himself longing for Will... He missed him.
He decided to get Will out. He had gotten him into prison in the first place, getting him out couldn't be that hard... But there were issues; issues he had to deal with... It was getting harder and harder to keep his front up, with Will accusing him of the crimes he indeed had committed... He'd still manage. He always had.
It almost broke his heart. Almost. Will had recruited a man to kill him. But he was also impressed... The side of Will that he wanted to bring out was finally showing itself. The side that took pleasure in watching pain, causing pain. As he bled out, standing there with a noose around his neck, he believed for a moment it was the end of him... The thought didn't scare him much, but it wasn't as comforting as he would have hoped. As luck would have it, he was saved. He would live to see his Will another day.
In the darkness of his kitchen, the strong scent of cheap aftershave almost stabbed at his nostrils. Of course, Will would come here. Where else would he go? He turned to see the man he was expecting, with a gun aimed straight at his head. So you've come to kill me again? Let's see you try, he thought. As expected, the gun was lowered. He smiled to himself.
'Obsessed.' 'Intrigued.' 'Obsessively.'
The words played again and again in his head as he watched Will. They sat eating together... The long pig that Will had hunted. He knew it wasn't what Will claimed it was. But he played along. He was quite curious to see what would happen.
'They know.'
Will's voice said in a short whisper. Oh. Of course they do. He was almost expecting something like this to happen. He wondered exactly how much of a fool Will expected him to be... But it still hurt. It stung his heart to accept his Will would do this to him, to them.
'I wanted to surprise you.'
He truly did. That's why their daughter was alive. They were going to run away together. Start a new life together. But the smell of betrayal hung heavy in the air between them. It hurt him to believe that Will would choose the others over him, despite knowing all they truly had was each other. He held back his own tears as he held Will to his chest as he bled out from the gut wound he had just caused.
He forgave Will. He forgave the betrayal that threatened to rip him from within.
Then he asked for forgiveness as he ripped their daughter's throat open.
He let himself cry as the rain hit his face. The cold droplets contrasting the warm blood and tears. He picked the coat that Will had so generously placed on the woman lying immobile in the front of the house, and walked away. He knew his Will would live. He didn't care much about what happened to the rest.
When he left for Europe with Bedelia, he couldn't help but wish it was Will at his side instead of this woman.
He left Will a monument to his sorrow in the cathedral. He left Will his broken heart. And Will found it. Will found him.
'I forgive you.'
He heard the words ring in the tunnels of the catacombs. He felt elated. Almost tempted to reveal himself. He refrained.
'...Love.'
He completed the sentence for her. Cutting it short to make his point. Yes, it was love. That is what Will made him feel, and he finally could candidly confess it. He knew it would be harder to have it reciprocated... But he knew Will was his. Nothing could take his Will from him.
He wasn't too surprised when Will found him. He was wounded and aching and still catching his breath from the fight where Jack had tossed him around like a straw puppet (revenge for their last encounter), yet he smiled.
'If I saw you everyday, forever, Will, I would remember this time.'
He couldn't help himself. He just had to say it. There was no escaping the fact he wanted Will. He had to make sure Will knew.
'You and I have begun to blur.'
The words felt like sweet nectar coming out of Will's mouth. Just as I intended, he thought.
He knew exactly what was happening when the bullet hit Will's shoulder. He knew, as much as he would love to unsee it, Will was still playing. It was nothing genuine. Not yet. He was hoping it would be, knowing the man had followed him all the way from across the ocean... But wanting to kill him was better than nothing. He picked Will's knife and handed it back to him as he lay bleeding from the gunshot while he tended to him.
'You dropped your forgiveness, Will.'
He wondered if his end would have been quick, or a work of art if she hadn't intervened. He was going to have some fun. He decided watching Jack Crawford watch as he made(or at least pretend to) a meal out of Will's funny little brain.
They woke up hanging upside down next to each other. This couldn't be too pleasant. They were restrained and taken in for dinner, but not before Mason Verger had stuck a knife into his back to check how much fat he had.
When Will bit off a piece of the henchman's cheek, he had to put in a lot of effort to hold back his own laughter. He smiled at his Will, blood all over his mouth as he spat the bit of flesh out.
The hot iron singed his skin. He was being branded, like a pig. The thought equal parts amused and disturbed him. His arms hurt from being tied up in the position they were. But he remained stoic. He had learnt not to show pain. He wasn't going to let these pigs win. He always won. Always.
He lifted his head the best he could and looked up at the two women staring down at him. His hands were tied over his head, holding him up, his neck held in place with a collar and ropes. Yet, he was calm. He knew how to get out of this. He always did.
'Promise me.'
Hah! As if he needed to. He would save his Will even if they had ordered him to leave Will behind. He knew Mason would be taken care of. He carried Will back in his arms. Will was safe. That's all he could care about.
'Do we talk about teacups and time?'
He tried to stay as composed as he could. He knew it had to come some time, why not now, when he knew he was the one who had just saved Will's life.
He poured his heart out to the man sitting on the bed in front of him. He waited for a response.
'I miss my dogs. I'm not gonna miss you'
It stung. Each word he uttered stung. He felt like someone was stabbing him in the gut again and again. With every line Will spoke he felt his composure slowly breaking as tears threatened to spill out.
'Goodbye... Hannibal.'
He got up and left. He held his notebook close to his chest and let the tears finally spill out. After everything? He knew what he had to do next. He knew Will needed him, as much as he needed Will.
He was going to make sure Will always knew where he was, and how to get to him. When the FBI came, he surrendered.
The Chesapeake Ripper was finally behind bars.
He had a lot of time to think these days, and think he did. A little bit too much. He spent his time sketching; scenes from Florence, original designs, and of course, his Will. He fantasized about all the different ways his life would have played out- What if he had never met Will? What if he had never framed Will? What if Will never found out his secret? (Oh he would have, sooner or later. Will was a smart man; and he understood him like no one else ever did) What if Will had truly been on his side, and they could have run away together... Their daughter with them? What if Will would just accept his own true nature, and in turn accept his love? Guess he wouldn't be finding out anytime soon.
'Hello, doctor Lecter.'
When Will came back to see him after three long years, he could smell that same old cheap aftershave, with the lingering smell of dogs and pine. It seems Will had made an attempt to replace him...
'Is there a child in your life, Will?'
They once had a child together, or so he had tried to give to Will, but that didn't seem to work out as well. He chose to goad Will, just to see if he could get Will to speak.
'You just came here to look at me.'
It seemed to the trick. Will didn't react as much as he would have found adequate, but there was enough evidence for him to know he was right. He always was. He knew Will wouldn't forget him quite so easily. He allowed himself and inward smile. A small triumph. For now. They were playing a long game.
'...You are family, Will.'
He saw his chance, and he took it. Just to see what would happen. When the Red Dragon called, he urged him on.
'Save yourself. Kill them all.'
When Will came to see him the next time... He was livid. And Hannibal loved that expression on Will's face. He knew he had hit just the right spots. He had heard of the woman's survival, that was a shame. The Great Red Dragon wasn't that Great after all. Whatever be the case, his point had been made.
'I was rooting for you Will.'
There was truth in that statement. He truly was rooting for Will. Always had been. He knew Will was trying to hide his true self, bury it deep within. But he wanted to bring it out, and make him his.
'You can go home again if there's any point... Is there any point?'
There isn't. No matter what comes out of Will's lips, he knows what the true answer is. He knew, how much ever Will would try to ignore it, the unspoken knowledge would live with him, haunt him.
'... You'd only do that if I rejected you.'
Indeed. Isn't that exactly why he had done it? Because Will had told him he didn't want to know where to find him? Because he said he didn't want to think about him? But Hannibal couldn't let that happen, could he? He wanted to make sure Will always had a way to him, he knew Will needed it even if Will himself refused to accept it.
'Will? Was it good to see me?'
'Good? ... No.'
No. The word resonated in his ears long after the man who had said it had left. No. Oh, Will! He didn't know if the tears almost threatening to pool at his eyes were from the hurt he felt or the sheer absurdity of how confidently Will had lied to his face. What a cunning boy indeed. Playing him like a fiddle knowing his weakness...
'... You dropped the mic, Will. But here you are, having to come back and pick it up again.'
It felt good to be smug. He felt powerful. Not that he ever felt particularly powerless in any situation, but this, this was different. Of course he'd keep running, he enjoyed their little game of cat and mouse... He was running, but he was the one truly in charge. The real chaser. Will would find him when he needed him, only because he wanted him to.
'I need you, Hannibal.'
Ah, how sweet those words sounded. The words he had been waiting to hear for so long now, though he would prefer more comfortable circumstances. One which probably didn't involve a straitjacket and restraints. But this would do for now. He was playing the long game.
'... Please.'
He smirked. So his request had been delivered. Good to know. This game's about to get interesting, he thought.
They waited for the Red Dragon to show himself. They knew he was watching, they were waiting for him to strike. He was glad to finally be out of his prison jumpsuit. It was tasteless. He had missed being free. Will looked somewhat disturbed the entire time, as if something was gnawing at him from within. The prison escape hadn't exactly gone as planned... But the deed had been done. Now, they waited for the man they knew was lurking somewhere nearby.
'Do you intend to watch him kill me?'
He still wasn't quite certain what Will was playing at. He knew there was some resentment in him, but he couldn't tell exactly what it was directed at. Will maintained his coldness, and he found it excruciatingly difficult to just keep trying to make small talk. He ached to be closer, and hated how much this man had changed him.
'My compassion for you is inconvenient, Will.'
And it truly was. He had long forgotten the feeling of love. Suppressed his very human urge to need it. Transcended from being simply mortal, and yet, Will had managed to ground him. Managed to make him feel seen again, known again. Feel human again. It hurt him a bit seeing Will believe he thinks of him as 'only a cow'. He wished it could have been that simple.
'No greater love hath man than to lay down his life for friend.'
There was truth in that too. Will was his friend. And he didn't make friends easily. He would quite willingly lay down his life for Will. He would also very willingly lay down the life of any other for Will. Guess that's what friends are for. Oh, but we are far more than just friends, no?
He knew they were being watched. The shattering of the glass still caught him off guard. The bottle slipped from his hand as the bullet entered his body. The Great Red Dragon had entered the room through the shattered window, a gun pointed in front of him. He watched from where he had fallen to the floor as he threatened Will to not run. As if Will could get himself to. He looked up at Will as the man calmly took a sip of his wine, looking at him intently, as if expecting a show ... Well, he would give Will a little show.
'I'm so happy you chose life, Francis. Suicide is the enemy.'
He waited for a reaction. The Great Red Fool was quite the tempting man to goad. Even there, bleeding out from his wound on the floor, he felt some semblance of power. A feeling of control.
He teased and prodded. It felt like old times again. When he was the apex predator.
'I'm gonna film your death...'
'It's a glorious and rather discomforting idea.'
He listened with mild interest as the man in front of him went on with his little monologue. He had all the time in the world. He knew this wasn't how he would die. He knew Will wouldn't let him. It would be a shame not kill him with his own hands, as Will had once confessed to him.
He looked up at Will. A warning glance. But before Will could get his gun out he had a switchblade through his cheek. The Dragon lifted him off his feet and threw him out the shattered window as he watched. He panicked. He didn't quite know if Will would be able to keep up with the behemoth of a man that he was up against. He felt the adrenaline rush through his veins.
He managed to get back up on his feet, and went at the man from behind when he was distracted with digging into Will's shoulder with his blade. He pulled the man back wrapping an arm around his neck, but was thrown off like a ragdoll.
He got back on his feet as the Dragon approached him. They were at each other's necks, when Will stabbed the man in the back with his own knife.
They fought the man in harmonious coordination. Helping the other where he was lacking. Alone, they were no match for this beast, but together, they seemed to be the perfect pair; undefeatable.
The details of the fight were a blur, but it ended with him ripping the man's throat with his teeth as Will tore open the man's abdomen with the blade.
The Great Red Dragon collapsed im front of them. His blood, spread like unfurling wings. He heaved himself up and looked at Will, trying to catch his breath.
'Really does look black in the moonlight.'
Will stretched his hand out towards him. He took hold of it and pulled him to his feet. Out of breath, covered in blood, both their own and their enemy's, he felt truly alive. The rush of adrenaline was slowly fading as they stood together in the silence of the night. Will was clearly struggling to breathe more than he was.
'See. This is all I ever wanted for you, Will... for both of us.'
'It's beautiful.'
He looked down at the man currently holding onto him to steady himself... This felt so right. Everything felt like it had been building up to this. This was what he had wanted all his life.
Will gently put his head down on his chest. He held Will close. Pulling him by the waist of his shirt as Will continued to desperately grab at his shoulder.
He felt Will's shallow uneven breaths on his neck. Will was slowly trying to move his head. He tilted his own head to the side to set his cheek to the top of his head. He felt the other man's lips ghosting over his neck. A small shiver ran down his spine.
'Hannibal'
Will whispered his name into his neck, and he couldn't help but let out a small gasp at the sensation. It felt so intimate.
Will pushed his head off his chest and leaned forward. He held his breath in anticipation as Will's face slowly moved closer to his own. He felt his breath leave him as Will pressed a sloppy open mouthed kiss on his lips.
His eyes widened. He stood motionless for a few seconds before reacting.
He kissed back, softly at first. Their lips pushing against each other with a light pressure. Almost chaste.
Their lips parted, in need of breath. He looked into Will's eyes. In them, for the first time in ages, he saw clarity. Will wasn't doing this out of pity. Will did it because he wanted to; because he needed to. He let his hand travel up to the back of Will's neck, and pulled him closer. This time he initiated the kiss; more forceful, more passionate. Years of built up emotion trying to pour out of him. Will reciprocated with equal vigour. Will's arm wrapped around his neck. They stood almost chest to chest on the edge of the cliff, their lips locked. He didn't want to open his eyes... It all felt like a dream.
He felt the taste of blood and saliva on his lips as Will lifted his head to look into his eyes. His eyes spoke to him in ways words couldn't. He knew what needed to be done... They were bleeding out, the FBI after him, after both of them. He looked up at the moon one last time. Then he looked at Will. The blood on his face black in the moonlight.
He relaxed his body as Will's arm wrapped around his neck pulled them both off the cliff.
He wrapped his own arm tighter around Will, and pulled his head to closer to touch foreheads with him. He shut his eyes as he felt the gush of the wind and the pull of gravity.
He smiled.
He knew Will was smiling too.
They were in this together. They only had each other.
This was his design.