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It's my own design
It's my own remorse
Help me to decide
Help me make the most
Of freedom and of pleasure
Nothing ever lasts forever
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“You were right you know.” Will murmured.
He and Hannibal sat side by side, against a wall in Bryan Fuller’s mind palace. The room was a detailed replica-- or original, depending on how you looked at it-- of Hannibal’s old therapy room. Will supposed it reminded them both of a much simpler time; this room, after all, had witnessed a significant amount of their developing relationship. Their strongest memories of each other had been made in this room. So it was no surprise really that this would be the last place left. Even now the bright red of the curtains, once such a startling contrast to the rest of the room, were dimming into a dull grey. The shadowed corners reached out slowly, just enough to remind them that the world as they knew it was ending. They were ending.
“About what?” Hannibal asked softly.
Oblivion had dulled the usual mirth in the doctor’s eyes, but not erased it entirely. Will was glad. Comforted by the fact that in the face of destruction, there was still this one constant that he could hold on to. He hadn’t been lying all those lifetimes ago when he’d called Hannibal his paddle.
“About me. About why I held on to Molly and Walter. I loved them both; but I was hiding behind them.” Will admitted. His eyes were downcast, but not in shame; It was too late for things such as that. “I was pretending to be something I wasn’t, because I was afraid of what would happen if I embraced you and your world.”
A hand touched Will’s, and his gaze finally met that of the man beside him. The doctor wasn’t as clear as he’d have liked. The looming shadows around them had swallowed most of the light, and both men were beginning to blur around the edges-- an image just out of focus.
“I cannot let you take all of the blame Will,” Hannibal exhaled softly. "I was alone. And in my solus, I became desperate for understanding. Not unlike our dear friend Jack, I used you for my own personal desires. I tried to mold you, shape you into someone who could see me for who I was and not spurn the sight of me. I brought you into my world, and I almost broke you.” Hannibal brought his free hand up to rest in the wild curls of Will’s hair. “You and your beautiful mind.” The doctor smiled sadly. “For that, I am sorry.”
Will returned the smile with one of his own. “I suppose both of our behavior left something to be desired.” The former profiler rest his hand against Hannibal's, holding it where it had come to cup his cheek.
“Strange,” Lecter commented, “That given the chance to create an idealistic world, full of humanity’s best, He would instead attend to it’s darkest corners. Perhaps this is proof that even the most common of man still craves the kill more than he cares to admit.”
“It’s a bit late to be pondering our apparently fictional existence-- and truthfully, I’m not at a capacity where I can tolerate your usual philosophics. Perhaps you could humor me, and speak like a normal person.”
“Fair enough.” Some of the doctor’s usual playfulness returned for an instant, his tone full of amusement. If anyone else had spoken to him in such a way, he’d be chewing on their tongue right now. But considering the speaker, he was only filled with a sense of great fondness.
“Would you hate me if I told you that I regretted nothing I’ve done to you?”
Will let a tiny exhale of laughter escape from his lips as he shook his head slowly.
“I could never truly hate you, Hannibal. You are who you are.”
This seemed to amuse the doctor even more.
“Are we back on a first name basis Will?”
“I’d say we are, given the circumstances.”
There was a slight pause as both men took in their surroundings. The room had disintegrated to half it’s original size, but the neither man had the strength to move away from the shadows closing in at their feet.
“Is there anything you do regret?”
Hannibal takes his time responding, as if the answer required serious thought and hadn’t in fact immediately come to him. “I regret that I’ll never have the chance to taste you.”
“What would you have taken from me? “
“Your brain, of course, would have been a top choice. Perhaps even your eyes. But I think I would have started with your heart.”
Will scoffs at this. “Ever the romantic.” He sobers up quickly though, face pained as he looks down at his free hand where it rest on his lap. “I regret not running away with you," he said softly, barely above a whisper. "These last three years, I thought about it everyday; wondered how different things might have been.”
A brief silence.
“You don’t have to talk about this now.”
“I know.”
Even as the profiler spoke, the shadows that had already been too close for comfort moved even closer still. The darkness began to consume their legs. Will closed his eyes briefly.
“It hurts.” The large hand still holding his face tightened almost imperceptibly. A thumb swept across Will’s cheek bone.
“I know.”
The darkness closed in mercilessly, creeping farther and farther up their person. By now, the rest of the room was gone. All that remained was the small piece of wall and carpet that they occupied.
“Hannibal?”
“Hmm?”
“Do you think we ever would’ve been happy together?”
At some point the doctor had also allowed his weary eyes to succumb to exhaustion, but now he opened them, gaze trained solely on Will.
“I think,” Hannibal began after a time. “that life is full of moments...and unfortunately, we missed ours. Too much time wasted on betrayal and fear. Fear of uncertainty, and fear of the change brought on ourselves because of the other. But had there been more time, I believe that we could have found it again; our happiness.”
Will closed his eyes once more, seemingly content with this answer. Though made awkward by the lack of function in his legs, he moved closer to Hannibal until their foreheads touched. Both took comfort in the contact as the shadows loomed upon them once more, taking with it everything from the waist down.
“I love you.” Will exhaled weakly, his mind a haze. Already, he could feel himself letting go.
“I’ve always loved you Will.”
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While enjoying breakfast in the comfort of his own home, Bryan Fuller feels a sense of immense loss, but has no idea why.