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Music: I'm back - Girl in Red
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Time: 14:41
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It’s been a while since Will’s slept. After the fall while they were healing everything was simple. All they could focus on was escape and recovery. They traveled, planned, and then slept like the dead. But now that’s mostly done with. They're settled in Cuba and while the wound in Will’s cheek is still tender, he can talk and eat now without much pain. Now that he has time to think, time to rest, things have come back to him.
He’s here with Hannibal, and he doesn’t know if happy is the word (not yet at least), but he’s more content than he’s ever been. Hannibal understands him in a way other people don’t, and he doesn't shame Will for his darker nature, he revels in it. He’s found a place for himself.
Guilt suffuses him at this thought. Hannibal hurt people to get here. Will hurt people to get here. There’s something approaching joy growing behind his breastbone, but what little is left of his conscience is doing its best to kill it.
He dreams of Hannibal killing Alana, and of Jack dying. Molly and Walter getting hurt. But the most frequent dreams are of Abigail. Visions of her father slitting her throat mix with ones of Hannibal doing the same. Will feels like he did it by proxy. Like by being here with Hannibal, he condones it. So he stays awake when he can.
The night is warm and the stars fill his eyes, as he sits out on the porch of the large house Hannibal has acquired. Will doesn’t want to think about how he got it. He raises the crystal-cut tumbler and takes a swig of the whisky. It burns as it goes down. He doesn't want something expensive right now. A small part of his mind says he doesn't deserve it. He tries not to drink as much, but sometimes it’s all that gets him through nights like this.
The screen door creaks and Will turns to see Hannibal coming out to join him in nothing but his blue silk sleep pants. He sits down in the wicker chair next to Will’s and looks out to the stars with him. The crickets chirping fill the silence between them, and Will relaxes knowing Hannibal is there with him. That he isn’t alone.
The self-loathing follows it.
“I can’t sleep,” Will says, taking another sip of his drink.
“I’ve noticed,” Hannibal replies, looking over at him. Wil wants to hide from his insightful gaze. “The bed is cold without you.”
The silence returns. Hannibal was always good at giving Will the time he needs to find his words. “I think I'm happy here.” He says.
When he says nothing further Hannibal replies “And that is a bad thing?”
“We hurt a lot of people to get here Hannibal.” Will’s voice is cutting, the blade going both ways, gutting both himself and Hannibal. Will wonders if the other man feels it like he does.
“It is what had to happen to get here, Will. In that, I can not regret it”
Will grins at that and his smile feels like broken glass inside his mouth. “I know you’ve said you don’t feel guilt.” Will’s voice rises in volume the longer he talks. “But don't you regret anything? What you did to me. The mess we left behind, ... Abagail?” His voice breaks as he mentions the girl he connected with so fully.
Silence falls for long enough to think that Hannibal won’t answer, but then Hannibal’s throat works and he says. “Guilt does not come naturally to me … But yes I do regret what I did to you,” He turns to face Will, eyes locking with his. Will can see the emotion in them and he reflects it back, the feelings in him amplify by a factor of two. Hannibal's emotions become a part of him. “And Abigail.” He looks away again and Will is relieved by it. Seeing Hannibal emote so much is irregular.
"She did not deserve to be punished.” Hannibal reaches out for Will's hand and takes it in his. “Neither did you Will.” He kisses Will’s hand just as the first tear falls down Will’s face.
“Hannibal, I -” Will stops sobs choking him. He's been holding onto this for so long. It's been shoved down into a deep well where he didn't have to think about it. But it's bubbling up now, drowning him. The water comes rushing from his eyes and shows the distress he's hidden for so long now.
Hannibal kneels down in front of Wil, heedless of the wood pulling at the threads of his pants. He gently wipes away Will's tears with his thumb. Hannibal looks at Will with such devotion that he can’t stand it. He leans forward and kisses Hannibal. It's sloppy and desperate and Will puts all the emotions he can’t find words for into it.
Hannibal kisses him just as fiercely, but eventually gentles the kiss and pulls back. He runs his hand through Will’s hair, soothingly caressing his head.
“Will you must listen to me,” Hannibal says, and his voice brokers no argument. “You deserve to be happy mylimasis. Do not let what has happened take this away from you. It is done, gone from us. Live with me now, and not with the ghosts of the past.”
Will swallows and looks away. He doesn’t know if he can let this go. His unhappiness and guilt have been such a big part of him. Will can’t think of a time it didn’t live in him. It’s morphed over the years, taking many different forms. Being the reason his mother left, leaving his father to drink himself to death while he went to college, his darker thoughts and urges. But it’s been with him his whole life. Leaving it behind sounds like a monumental task. He’s been shaped by it. Like Sisyphus with his boulder, this has been Will’s burden to bear and he doesn’t know what he will be without it.
But he wants to.
He’s gotten glimpses of what he could be like without it hanging over him. It doesn’t feel like him. But he likes the person he is when it happens. So he whispers quietly “I’ll try.”
A smile blossoms on Hannibal’s face with the answer and Will feels lighter. “Then come to bed dear heart, you need your rest if you are to face the day tomorrow.” He pulls Will to his feet and they make their way inside. Will leaves his glass in the kitchen to be dealt with tomorrow and they crawl under the covers. Hannibal is behind him, holding him so close he can feel his heartbeat. Slowly, with the rhythm of it in his ear, Will drifts off to the first truly peaceful sleep he’s had since this had all happened.
But he wants to.
He’s gotten glimpses of what he could be like without it hanging over him. It doesn’t feel like him. But he likes the person he is when it happens. So he whispers quietly “I’ll try.”
A smile blossoms on Hannibal’s face with the answer and Will feels lighter. “Then come to bed Mylimasis, you need your rest if you are to face the day tomorrow.” He pulls Will to his feet and they make their way inside. Will leaves his glass in the kitchen to be dealt with tomorrow and they crawl under the covers. Hannibal is behind him, holding him so close he can feel his heartbeat. Slowly feeling the rhythm of it, Will drifts off to the first truly peaceful sleep he’s had since this had all happened.