Chapter Text
You stared straight ahead at the open road, unblinking, as your fathers drove you home from your latest hospital visit. Hannibal let Will drive (for once), so that he could sit next to you, a hand reassuringly placed atop of yours in silence, giving it a gentle squeeze every so often, which you reciprocated every time.
Will always did his best to drive as safely as he could whenever he was in the car with his husband and/or daughter, worried that one day he would make one mistake on the freeway and end it all. Still, Will couldn't help but send back sad smiles to his two favourite people via review mirror. Hannibal always had a soft, caring smile to send back to him, but unfortunately you were too busy staring ahead of you to notice.
You lived in a nice house out away from the city, yet closer to town then Will's old house, which they had taken you to see a few times in the past. You liked to imagine the dogs running around in the plentiful fields, just as they did in the large yard you had currently.
Hannibal opened the large oak wood door of your home, waiting for you and Will to step inside before he closed it with a soft tap.
You greeted the dogs as you walked in, bending down to scratch them behind the ears, ignoring the dull pain in your back as you did so.
You put your bag down next to you on the floor as you plopped yourself down on the sofa, listening to the sound of your medications rattle as the bag hit the soft carpet. It was a sound you had gotten used to and still got a surge of almost a gross pride at your "collection" and disgust at how loud and obvious the sound was.
Will sat down next to you on one side, Hannibal at the other, and they both put a hand on yours, which was rested on your knee. Winston took his place beside Will, his soft head resting on the arm of the couch, and a furry leg stretched out to lay on Will's lap.
"How are you doing, Honey?" Will asked, meeting your eyes. You finally stopped numbly staring ahead of you long enough to meet his eyes. Hannibal hadn't said anything to you yet, but he looked at your caringly, waiting for an answer just as patiently as Will.
"I'm doing fine," you said, not even entirely sure you were lying. You couldn't honestly tell how you were doing. You were still in the numb stupor you were in the second you walked into the all too familiar hospital.
"Are you sure?" Hannibal asked, placing a gentle hand on your upper back.
"I don't know." You turned to face Hannibal, not failing to notice how similar your and his eyes were, even though you weren't related by blood. Yours were larger and more youthful; they had seen much less of the world, but they had the same color and calm look to them. "If I'm not now, than I will be."
Will gave your hand a soft squeeze, and Hannibal had been tracing circles on your back, before offering to make the three of you dinner. It was eight o'clock, about two hours later than you normally ate, so you were all hungry. You saw Will's face light up for the first time in hours at the offer.
"That sounds great," he said with a smile.
"Someone's hungry," Hannibal chimed, a smile laced on his lips.
You and Will followed Hannibal suit into the kitchen. You took a seat at a black barstool kitchen chair and put your elbows on the tall counter, almost excited to watch the pair cook together. When you all cooked together, you and Will would always do the little stuff, like chopping or washing vegetables, or stirring ingredients, but Hannibal always assured you two that you were doing the important stuff.
You assumed that just your fathers were going to be doing the cooking tonight, until Hannibal slid you a small cutting board from the other side of the counter, with a smile.
"Care to help me chop veggies?" Will asked, sliding into the chair next to you, a knife carefully bared in each hand.
"Sure," You said, smiling.
Will handed you a knife, and Hannibal put some fresh vegetables by the cutting board for you and Will to slice. Hannibal worked contently by the stove, pouring a pungent liquid into a large metal pot, followed by water, an enormous amount of select spices, noodles, and chopped chicken.
You and Will finished chopping the vegetables pretty quickly, and Hannibal hummed a thank you while he scooped them up in two large handfuls, dropping them into the nearly boiling soup on the stove.
You took in the aroma and sighed contently, leaning back in your chair.
Hannibal went to play the piano in the dinning room, thankful you had open rooms that let you watch and listen to him play from where you sat in the kitchen. You hummed along to the tune he was playing as Will tended to and occasionally stirred the cooking dinner.
In a matter of moments Hannibal got up from the piano and lead you by the hand to it, you trailing after him. He played the first few elegant and complicated notes on one side of the piano stool, then looked to you. You placed your hands on the piano and began a duet, you claiming the much simpler half. Both your fathers played, so a few weeks after you were adopted you asked them to teach you to play. Will wasn't nearly as good a pianist as Hannibal, and you weren't nearly as good as Will, but you made it work just fine, your hands happily, if a bit sloppily, pressing down on the keys. You grinned as you played, swaying a bit to the beat. Hannibal noticed his husband watching them, a silly grin taking over his face, and Hannibal smiled at him, still not missing a beat as he looked away from the instrument.
Soon dinner was ready, so Hannibal dished it out, a rather lavish and filling looking meal placed at their spots on the table.
The three of you ate in pleasant peace, the piece you and Hannibal played stayed fresh in your mind, the beautiful and happy tune further lifting your mood. You smiled, betting that it was stuck in their heads too.