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“This is all I’ve ever wanted for you, Will,” Hannibal’s soft expression gleamed as he stared into Will’s eyes.
In that moment all of their bloodied past didn’t cling to them. The firm grip of grudge had no hold on them at all.
Will griped Hannibal’s shoulder tighter like he could slip away at any second. This moment shared between them felt surreal; like a dream.
They glanced down at the Red Dragon, laid to rest in a pool of blood. Their work, although not put on display, nor organized, was art in itself. “For both of us,” Hannibal’s staggered breaths fell on Will.
Will took in the feeling, the glistening blood, that shines black in the moonlight. The taste of iron smeared across his lips. The adrenaline and excitement pumping in his veins.
He couldn’t help but scoff a smile, “It’s beautiful.” He meant that truly.
Oh God.. He meant that truly. Will felt a twisting sickness in his stomach. Despite all he’s done to bury this part of himself deep down over the past three years, reuniting with Hannibal was all but inevitable; this feeling was too.
Maybe he didn’t have to feel sick. Hannibal Lecter had striped back his moral façade—his person suit. He could finally let go.
Will felt.. free.
Hannibal’s eyes we’re closing involuntary due to his wounds, he tried to keep his vision trained on Will, he didn’t want to let this moment go.
Will grasped the arm to Hannibal’s side, softly dragging his hand to his waist. Hannibal griped at Will for stability. Will crept his hand up Hannibal’s neck, his labored breaths slowing, pupils dilating. He rested his hand over his cheek.
Hannibal griped Will’s waist tighter. Will leaned into his lips, locking in their embrace tighter.
For a moment Will was worried Hannibal wouldn’t reciprocate his advance. Even though he had been told Hannibal was in love with him, he still found it hard to believe that anyone could care for him to that capacity. Especially someone like him.
His worries we’re silenced when Hannibal kissed him back.
The crashing waves beneath them, elevated heart rates, both of their blood shared between their lips. It made Will feel, for the first time in a long time, alive.
So alive that he could die here. Right in this moment, tethered in Hannibal’s arms. Maybe he wants that, maybe that’s just how it’s supposed to go.
Hannibal let out a soft whine as Will pulled back. He gave a somber look as he contemplated his next move. He faintly brushed his thumb over Hannibal’s cheekbone.
If he chose to run away with Hannibal now, Jack and the FBI will come looking. They wouldn’t be able to outrun them forever, eventually they would get detained. And he would never see Hannibal again.
High risk.. but high reward.
Hannibal wouldn’t be able to stop killing. Does he even want him to? Slaying the Red Dragon felt so good, he wants that feeling again.
Fate is in his hands. Hannibal has surrendered his life to Will entirely, should he decide to pull the trigger, he is content either way.
Will leaned his face into the crook of Hannibal’s neck, “We’d better get bandaged up and leave before Jack gets here,” he mumbled.
Hannibal smiled pressing his lips to his head.
They limped and staggered their way back inside, Hannibal almost slipped on The Dragons blood, but Will held him steady.
The pools of Will’s blood and wine, tainted the scent of the air inside.
They both groaned as they collapsed beside one another on the bathroom floor. Hannibal clutched at his stomach, he was still actively bleeding out.
For a moment no one moved, just collective huffing for exhaustion and anguish.
“You intended to kill us both, didn’t you?” Hannibal gasped out between bloodied breaths and cries of pain.
Will turned to face him, folding his shoulder against the tile wall, “I considered it.. for a moment,” He exhaled.
A slight smile tugged at the corner of Hannibal’s lip but he was far to tired to emote, “What changed your mind?”
Will avoided the question, crawling to the cabinet beneath the sink ahead of them, he pulled out an aid kit.
He dragged it back across the floor as he moved in front of Hannibal.
“I’ll sew up your cheek first, that way it will be easier for you to focus on me,” Hannibal panted.
Will already started shaking his head in protest before he had finished his sentence, “No, no. Your wounds are more major they need to be tended to first.”
“My wounds are more major, they require focus to tend to. This isn’t a discussion, I’ll treat you first.” Hannibal sat up, and snatched the kit from under Will’s hand.
Will sighed, adjusting his position for easier access to his gash.
Hannibal pressed gauze into Will’s open palm, “Put pressure on it,” He slurred as he prepared the needle and thread.
Will complied.
Hannibal poured rubbing alcohol onto a white rag, already stained with blood form his hands, “I’ll try not to leave a scar.”
Will let out a noise closely resembling a laugh, but it was hard to make out through the whimpers of pain, “What’s one more scar? At least this one isn’t from you.”
Hannibal didn’t appreciate his attempt at humor.. if that’s what that was.
Hannibal brushed Will’s fingers as he guided down the bloodied gauze and pressed on the sanitary rag. Will flinched away with a hiss, Hannibal winced as he raised his other hand to hold Will’s head still.
“Sorry,” Will hummed.
Hannibal griped Will’s uninjured side of his face tighter, “It’s alright, Will. I’m going to do this as quickly as possible; I’m beginning to feel light headed,” He blinked himself back into focus.
He realized after he said the words, he probably shouldn’t have said anything at all. Will was about to protest Hannibal to suture his wounds once again. Hannibal swiftly began the stitching before Will could open his mouth to speak.
It was over quick, just as he promised. Despite Hannibal’s drowsy condition, the threads were neat and thin. They would heal remarkably.
Hannibal sat back up from the wall, “Now.. your shoulder,” He panted, “I’ll remove your shirt.” He could feel himself losing consciousness.
Will pressed him back against the wall gently, “Enough. I’ve got you now.” He let his hands linger on Hannibal before pulling back and opening the kit back up.
Hannibal grimaced as Will pealed off his shirt, the oozing blood stuck to the fabric.
The bullet didn’t puncture any organs, or anything major that would need internal surgery. It was a clean shot.
“Alright..” Will tried to guide himself with his words, he figured Hannibal would be awake long enough to help him but with each passing second he’s fading more. “The bullet went straight through. That’s good..” Will carried a subtle panic in his tone of voice.
Will got out the curved needle and braced it by Hannibal’s wound but his hands we’re shaking uncontrollably, “God! I can’t do this!” Will teared up, “I need you awake, I need your help. Where do I even start?” He cried.
Hannibal mumbled under his breath, absently reaching out for Will’s hand, instead brushing his knee, “Will.. it’s alright,” he uttered, “Just like.. a fishing hook.”
That wasn’t true at all. He was trying to use familiarity to ease Will. And it was surprisingly working.
He took in a shaky inhale, and let out a quiet exhale before attempting to close the wound.
It went much better than he’d expected it would but it will most definitely leave a scar. While he was suturing the exit wound he noticed Hannibal had been branded. It was from when they had been kidnapped and held captive at the Verger Farm. Hannibal had been beat and branded, was in severe pain but had still managed to carry Will miles in the snow to safety.
And after all he had done for him, Will dumped him aside and pledged he would never look for him.
He shook himself out of the trance. Past is the past, and he needed for fix his shoulder before they were out of time.
Once they we’re all stitched up Will wanted nothing more than to collapse into unconsciousness right there on the bathroom floor, but they had to get out of that house.
He shuffled over to the other man, laying insensible against the cold tile wall.
He brushed a hand up Hannibal’s upper thigh. “Hey, Hannibal. Come on we have to leave,” Will whispered.
Hannibal’s breaths were shallow. He had no reaction to Will’s touches.
“Hannibal,” He spoke as firmly as he could through his tiresome raspy voice.
Nothing.
Will squeezed his leg tight, “Hey!”
Hannibal groaned fluttering his eyelids open with a look of annoyance, “Hm?”
Will let out a small breath of relief, “It’s time to leave. Jack should be arriving soon.”
Hannibal nodded, his eyes shined as he held contact with Will.
They pressed against each other as they fumbled to stand up. Will wrapped an arm around Hannibal’s lower back; Hannibal placed his higher up. They both danced around each other’s wounds trying their best not to cause more hurt.
“Where are we,” Will huffed, as they limped to the front door, “Going to go?”
Hannibal grasped Will tighter as he moved to open the door, Will let out a quiet yelp of pain the sudden shift caused.
“I’m Sorry, Will,” He released the door handle and brought his other hand to lightly graze Will’s wounded shoulder. His concerned eyes made Will smile.
They looked as if they were going to begin to slow dance. Will let out a soft chuckle, “I’m okay, Doctor Dozy,” He joked. “You never answered my question.”
Hannibal grinned, “I have a place.” They continued their painful limp to the police car outside, this time Hannibal maneuvered his grip on Will much more gently.
“It’s only temporary, of course. We will have to flee the country eventually,” He groaned, letting Will down into the passenger seat than using the car as a crutch to get to the driver’s side.
Hannibal’s trembled as he attempted to insert the keys into the ignition. Will watched intently before catching his wrist. The tip of his thumb brushed over Hannibal’s faded scar on his wrist.
“Hannibal,” Will uttered under his breath.
“I can drive—”
Before Hannibal could finish his sentence, Will’s lips we’re on his. Will shifted over the center console, closer to Hannibal. He slowly rose his cold palms to cup both sides of Hannibal’s face.
Hannibal pulled away from Will, slowly dragging his lips down to Will’s neck. With each gentle kiss, Will let out a small whimper.
“Hannibal,” Will hummed, tugging at his shoulder to pull away, “I saw your back.” Meeting Hannibal’s eyes, his sorrowful look caused an ache in Will’s chest.
“It wasn’t a secret,” Hannibal murmured as he crept a hand up to capture Will’s.
Will dipped his head, “We never talked about that day. We never talked about.. a lot of days.”
Hannibal brushed his thumb over Will’s knuckles, “Past is the past, Will. We’re moving forward. And we’ll have plenty of time to talk about things once we’re out of here.”
Will moved back to his seat, “Right..”
Hannibal slipped the keys into the ignition. The rumbling of the engine was already beginning to warm the car.
“When you said, ‘your compassion for me is inconvenient’… does that mean you love me?” Will raised his eyebrows, turning his head back to the driver’s seats direction.
Hannibal tapped his index finger on the wheel, forcing himself to meet Will’s eyes, he felt like he might melt. “In simple terms, yes.”
Will bit back a somber smile, “hm.”
Hannibal turned his attention back to the wheel, “Rest for a while, Will. It will be a while until we get there.”
Will couldn’t bring himself so say ‘I love you’ back. He knew he did, now. But something in him kept him from stating his reciprocation.
Instead all that came out was, “Don’t crash while I’m asleep.”
**
Two years later.
Jack sighed into his hands. His past mistakes still linger in his mind even two years after it all should have ended. Kind of hard for forget when there’s a constant reminder hung up in your office.
Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter’s wanted posters.
“Mr. Crawford,” A smug voice echoed in his head.
Jack looked up to make contact with Freddie Lounds. “Freddie, sit, please.” Jack stood, gesturing for the seat across from his desk.
She did just that. “My goodness, this case really has aged you, Jack.”
Jack scoffed. Freddie didn’t mean it in a rude way, although that seems to be the only way she can convey opinions. Jack had heavy eye bags and was almost completely grey.
“It’s more than a case, Freddie. You know that.”
Freddie dipped her head, “The Murder Husbands should be treated like any other serial killers.”
Jack pinched the bridge of his nose, “God, stop calling them that.”
Freddie grinned, than became serious in a quick shift, “Jack. I know I’ve written some.. rather unpleasant things about how you’ve handled this unique situation before but—”
“You called my work tyranny and tried to get my department torn away,” Jack snapped.
Freddie scoffed, “Like I said, rather unpleasant. But, coming from someone who was there. You need to let this case to someone else.”
Jack shook his head, “No. Will Graham was my responsibility. Everything that’s happened to him is my fault, I need to be the one to find him.”
Freddie frowned with a sympathetic look in her eyes, a rare thing for her, “So even if I do get you fired, you’re still going to look for them, aren’t you?”
Jack avoided her eyes. He left her question unanswered; she knew the answer.
“You know what I think Will Graham is worrying about?” Freddie added.
Jack sighed, “What?”
“If he wants a star or an angel on his Christmas tree.” Freddie stated in a harsh tone.
She didn’t really think this, she was just trying to get the point across that Graham didn’t care what Jack was doing. What he had done to Jack.
Freddie shifted to get up, “Will Graham has moved on; He’s let go. It’s time you do to.”
As the click of Freddie’s heels sounded away, Jack pondered if he really should let someone else have the Murder Husbands case.
No.. Will was his charge. Will was his mistake.
Jack drew his eyebrows together.. was Freddie right? Was Will Graham really worried about Christmas trees while he sits here everyday in agony over the past.
**
The scars didn’t bother him anymore.
Stared back at himself in the mirror running his fingers over the scar tissue across his stomach. When he touched it, he didn’t think about what Hannibal did to him anymore, he didn’t think about Abigail. Well he did, but he didn’t dwell on it like he used to. Just a quick acknowledgement.
Maybe that really did make him insane. To completely let go of the past, doesn’t feel like a human capability.
Whatever he was, he accepted it. Or he has at least convinced himself that he does.
“Will!” Hannibal called outside the room.
Will sighed and snatched a shirt off the sink.
“Look what I got!” Hannibal beamed from across the room.
The smell of pine flooded the room, Will loved that smell. It reminded him of his childhood. But only the good parts.
Hannibal had already dragged in the tall pine tree, it was sprawled across the floor in the corner of the cabin.
Will tilted his head making his way closer to Hannibal, “I didn’t know if they celebrated Christmas in Romania,” Will muttered.
Hannibal smiled, “Of course, Christmas is celebrated in all majorly Christian countries.”
Hannibal rubbed his hands together with a exaggerated chilled sound, “Were you planning on just letting me freeze?”
Will smiled, “Why yes,” he joked as he pressed his hands to Hannibal’s frigid cheeks.
“Brrr! Go sit by the fire, Hannibal.” Will gave him a light push.
Hannibal squinted his eyes, looking back to Will, “Then who will put up the tree? I hope you don’t intend to do it..”
“Why!? I’m an outdoorsman, you don’t think I have prior Christmas-tree-experience?” Will scoffed playfully.
“—Oh what a disaster that would be!” Hannibal continued with his usual smug smile.
Will waved his pointer finger in Hannibal’s face, “You shut your mouth, before I kill that fire. I’d like to see you put up a Christmas tree as an ice block!” Will laughed.
Hannibal turned back towards the open flames in the Living room with a grin.
After a lot of effort (and to Will’s appreciation, no help from Hannibal) the Christmas tree was standing. They decorated it together with old ornaments found in the cabins storage.
This was their first year celebrating Christmas together, or anything for that matter. Last year, for some reason just felt too weird. Will still had celebrating with Molly and Walter stuck in his mind. This year, his continuous was clear.
Hannibal took a step back from the tree, taking his place next to Will.
“Does it looks look like it’s leaning to you?” Will hummed as he rested his head on Hannibal’s shoulder.
Hannibal held Will’s lower back as he turned to kiss his head, “Go let your dogs in,” He muttered into his messy hair.
“Our dogs,” Will corrected as he slipped away from Hannibal’s touch.
“Dogs!” Will yelled out the front door. Not long after they came scrambling in. He only had four. each time he rescued a new stray, Hannibal begged him for it to be the last. But he knew he couldn’t control Will’s relentless dog-taming.
Hannibal had already moved to the sofa to escape from the excessive licking of the hairy beasts.
Will threw his arms over the frame of the sofa, latching onto Hannibal, “We’re not done yet, we didn’t add a topper!” he whined dramatically.
Hannibal leaned back into Will, only separated by the back of the sofa, “Star or angel?”
Will sighed, “Ughh, I don’t know.. let’s go star. Angel next year?”
Will hardly ever talked about his future with Hannibal, when he did it was never something minuscule and positive like this.
Hannibal couldn’t help but offer a warm smile, “Perhaps.”
As the fire crackled and the snow fell rougher outside, Will sat with Hannibal wrapped in one arm and his puppy Winston JR in the other. His life hasn’t gone how he thought it would but despite the differences in scenery, he was the happiest he could ever be.
The tenderness Will feels when he looks at Hannibal, he has never experienced with anyone else in his life. That’s what told him this was right, even if all his morality were thrown out the window, he was in the right place.
Will looked down to Hannibal who was reading the newest Tattlecrime article on the Murder Husbands. Just to make sure they’re still safe.
He shifted his arm from around his shoulder to mess with his hair, “Hannibal,” he murmured.
“Yes, Will?” He mumbled, still focused on the text.
“I love you,” Will whispered softly into his ear.
Hannibal immediately dropped his iPad and turned to face Will, leaving a space between them. “You have never said that to me before..” Hannibal stared confused into his eyes.
Confusion replaced with a sad glint, “Do you mean it?” Hannibal frowned.
Will shook off Winston JR from his arm bringing it forward to rest on Hannibal’s knee, “Of course, I mean it.”
Hannibal couldn’t keep his lips from quivering, he quickly tackled Will to keep from noticing, pressing his face into Will’s shoulder, “I love you too,” he uttered into him.
It would have been incoherent if it wasn’t for the context due to how hard he had his face pressed into him.
“Hey,” Will hushed, “You should hurry and finish that article so we can make dinner. I’m starving.”
Hannibal pulled back with a smug glance, “We?”
Will smiled, “Oui oui!”
Hannibal rolled his eyes. He kissed Will tenderly before getting up with a groan.
Will laughed, “What? Is it that bad!?” He shouted after Hannibal.
He continued to giggle as he watched him walk away, “We’re going to France at some point right!?”
Will grinned, signaling for Winston JR to hop back on the sofa.
He loved Hannibal Lecter. He knew that.. but he couldn’t say it before. What’s changed? Perhaps before he didn’t fully accept it. He wished it wasn’t true. Now he’s decided.
He can live with that sentence.