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They were walking out of the museum side by side. Will found that he was at ease with Hannibal beside him again. As soon as he had sat next to him, Will felt as though he were finally breathing, like a weight he hadn’t known he carried lifted away, and all he could do was smile. He was glad when Hannibal smiled back with a gentle twist of lips, had welcomed him back with open arms.
A sudden chill went down Will’s spine and he looked over at Hannibal. Just as he did, he was slammed in the right shoulder. It was a stabbing pain that flared through his limb and it wasn’t until he hit the ground that he realized he’d been shot. He was willing to place a bet on who the culprit was too.
Hannibal was hovering over him protectively, one hand on his side as he looked between Will’s shoulder and his face. “Will… Will stay with me.”
Will groaned, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small blade. He flicked it open, teeth clenched, flashing dangerously. “I’m going to kill her,” he hissed.
“Not now you’re not,” Hannibal answered flatly. “Come on. We need to get off the street.”
Will choked off a cry of pain as Hannibal pulled him up. He encouraged Will to lean on him while they made their way through the barren side streets as fast as Hannibal dared to take them.
* * *
Will buried his nose in Hannibal’s neck, whining as he was jostled into an old elevator of an apartment building. Hannibal’s hand ran over his hair in what could only amount to a tender manner.
“I need to get your jacket off,” Hannibal said, settling Will back at the end of a couch. He walked over to the dining table where his bag sat. Will watched as Hannibal pulled out various medical supplies, starting to set up on the small end table.
“I can’t really feel my fingers,” Will admitted.
Hannibal frowned, reaching for the jacket. He didn’t apologize as he tugged at it, getting it off as quickly as he could. When the injured man cried out in pain however, Hannibal pulled him close, holding him gently around the waist with one arm. Will collapsed gratefully against him, nose once again in Hannibal’s neck.
He may not have wanted to let go, but as much as Hannibal was enjoying the warm body against him and reacquainting himself with Will’s scent, he needed to get to work. “Sit back,” he encouraged, gently pushing him away. He hastily unbuttoned Will’s shirt, pulling it off to the side to reveal the wound. Satisfied that the bullet was wedged in soft tissue, Hannibal’s worry lessened just a little.
“Chiyoh is very protective of me,” he said almost conversationally, reaching for a syringe and the drug he wanted.
“Yeah,” Will ground out, holding back more than pain- Hannibal saw the coiled beast yearning to strike, “well I take exception to being shot .” Hannibal reached for his arm, syringe in his other hand, and Will eyed it carefully. “What is that?”
“A mild sedative.” Will yanked back quickly in protest, hissing at the pull of muscles. “Will,” he reasoned gently, “You’re in a lot of pain and it will only get worse. I won’t harm you, but I have to get this done before you bleed out. This will be the easiest for us both.”
When he tried to take Will’s arm again, he only pulled away once more, causing Hannibal to sigh. “You still do not trust me,” Hannibal accused, however when he met Will’s gaze he knew that to be untrue. There was no need for Will’s shake of his head.
“That’s not…” Will’s protest was cut of by a high-pitched sound in his throat, brought about by a spasm of pain through his nerve endings. “If I’m unconscious…” he tried to convey, flinching with more flares of pain.
“You worry you will not be able to protect me should they catch up to us here,” Hannibal realized, Will nodding. He had broken out in a cold sweat and his face paled. There was no time for arguing. “I assure you I am more than capable of protecting myself.” Before Will could argue, he continued, “But I will avoid using the sedative then if possible.” He was already trading it for a new syringe with a different medication. “Novocain,” he explained, taking Will’s arm surprisingly gently.
Will didn’t protest further, rather allowing Hannibal to work. He watched with morbid curiosity as the bullet was removed, blood flowing a little more freely. There was no pain, just pressure, for which he was grateful.
Suddenly though he felt far too hot and he noticed his body start to tremble. “Will?” Hannibal’s voice held concern, hand against his forehead. “Will.” It was more insistent and he tried to reply but found his throat closing up. “Damnit,” Hannibal hissed, reaching for something.
Before darkness took him, he felt the pinch of a needle.
* * *
Hannibal regretted having to give Will the sedative. He was just thankful that he was able to stitch him up and get him stabilized. After giving him an antibiotic, he drew a bath and carried Will to it. The warm water was enough to stir the man from his unnatural slumber. Hannibal just continued to wash away the blood gently as Will slowly came back to him.
“What happened?” Will asked, tongue feeling thick in his mouth.
“You started to go into shock from the blood loss. I had no choice.” Will nodded in understanding, craning his neck to look at his stitches. “You should be fine,” Hannibal assured, cloth running across Will’s collarbone. Nothing vital had been damaged and all it would take was time- and taking it easy- for the wound to heal. “It’s bound to scar though.”
“Just another for the collection,” Will replied, quirking his lips.
“I suppose so.”
Silence fell between them, Will not protesting as Hannibal continued to clean him up, even when he came to full alertness once more. Instead they let the calm quiet wrap around them like a comfortable blanket.
* * *
Will sat on the couch in his borrowed slacks, a shirt set aside for him that he didn’t feel like putting on given the feeling slowly coming back to his shoulder. Hannibal emerged from the kitchen, handing him a bowl of broth and sitting next to Will with one of his own.
“There was not nearly enough stocked to make anything decent,” Hannibal lamented. “But it will have to do.” He nudged Will’s knee with his own. “Eat up. You need to regain your strength.”
“We need to leave soon,” Will agreed, blowing on the steaming broth. “No doubt Jack is on our heels. And who knows what's right behind him.”
“We’ll slip away,” Hannibal replied easily, looking over to meet Will’s gaze. “We’ll disappear.”
Will couldn’t help but quirk his lips. “Like we were meant to in Baltimore.”
“Yes.” Will nodded and looked down at his bowl. Hannibal hesitated a moment before inquiring, “Did you want to come with me then Will?”
“I did,” was the soft admittance. He slurped a couple spoonfuls of broth before adding, “But I don’t think I was ready.” He quirked his lips, looking at Hannibal. “Like I said… I needed to know what I was looking at before facing you again.”
Hannibal nodded in understanding. “You needed to complete your own transformation before you could fully accept me.”
Will’s mouth turned up into a fuller smile then. “Allowing our beloved to see their potential,” he echoed a sentiment Hannibal had once told him.
“And have you seen that potential Will?” Hannibal’s lips were quirked into that smirking smile of his, teasing and flirty.
He already knew the answer to that, and so Will instead suggested, “If you have no destination in mind, perhaps we can go back to your family estate.” He noted how Hannibal tensed beside him and tried to smooth things over by explaining, “I left a gift for you there.”
Catching his meaning, Hannibal looked at him in what only could amount to love. “I’m sure it is beautiful.” He broke eye contact as he admitted, “But I don’t know that I could go back to that place. Not even for that.”
Will laid a hand on Hannibal’s wrist. “When you’re ready then.”
Hannibal gave him a grateful look before nodding towards his bowl. “Finish your broth. We’ll leave when you’re ready.”
They continued to eat in companionable silence. Will mentioned at one point, “This doesn’t taste very good.”
Hannibal actually let out a breath of a laugh. “I told you there wasn’t much here.” Will only gave him a teasing smile, and when he’d had his fill he set the bowl aside on the coffee table, pressing his body to Hannibal’s. “Did you mean what you said earlier? About how we’ve begun to blur?”
“I did Hannibal,” he assured softly, nose rubbing against his cheek. “It’s the two of us now. Bonded together. For eternity.”
Hannibal turned his face the rest of the way, sealing the declaration with a kiss.
/End