Chapter Text
“where i’ll be looking in their eyes when they’re down, i want to feel it
i bet on losing dogs.”
-
will awoke to the beeping of a heart monitor, the sound repetitive and quite slow. his body ached, yeah, but the recent gutting he endured was far more traumatizing than anything. he remembered the blood, the smell of hannibal, feeling him holding him close and practically weeping as he stabbed him. he saw the betrayal in hannibal's eyes, and he wished he never did. he never saw him so broken, and he wanted to take it all back. he saw abigail, poor abigail. he could still feel the rush of her blood on his hand, he tried to save her. he felt guilty for not knowing how to. she had to be dead, he knew it. her wound was reopened by the very same man who closed it up.
will moved his head, his skull throbbing as he did so. apparently a good gutting wasn’t enough to get rid of his migraines. he tried to take in his surroundings, but his eyes were so blurry from the headache.
“you’re awake.”
will’s head shot over to the door, making eye contact with a young girl. his eyes instantly cleared up, trying to focus on the person in front of him.
“abigail?”
his voice was broken, raspy and strained from the screaming he let out just a few days before he woke up. she smiled a thin, soft line at him as she sat down at the end of his hospital bed.
“they said he knew how to cut us.”
her voice was soft, but it was harsh at the same time. soft around the edges, but cracked in the middle.
will felt crazy, his mind had to be playing tricks on him. maybe the experience of his.. friend gutting him was getting to his mind, making the hallucinations he often experienced worse. apparently, he just kept staring at her as she drew closer because she cleared her throat.
“i’m real, will.”
her lips were shaking, a nervous tic will noticed she had. he tried to focus his eyes more, trying to get his mind erase the girl in front of him. he didn’t believe she was real, she couldn’t be.
he felt gross, mad at his mind for letting him get a tiny sliver of hope that she could have survived.
when abigail took notice of will's slightly dissociative state, she sighed.
“i’ll go get alana, yeah?”
that was the last thing she said before she carefully got up, walked out the door, and left will confused and worried about his own mental state. he sighed, closing his eyes.
-
abigail left the room, a pang of guilt rushing over her. she never treated will with the same.. affection he did with her. she always stayed at hannibal’s side, his paternal acts always more appealing for her. she was scared of will, she could tell he was dangerous. she never felt that scared of hannibal, even when he recreated what her dad- what garrett jacob hobbs had done to her.
but now… now will felt real. he felt cleaner, like the blood they let spill on hannibal’s kitchen floor together had cleansed them, and drawn them closer.
she felt bad now, for leaving him when he tried to help her. for running to hannibal, for holding hannibal closer in her heart.
and yet, she still did.
she missed hannibal, she wanted to find him. she wanted to help hannibal, the way she helped her dad. that idea didn’t feel scary anymore. but this time, she wanted will to be with them. she wanted that family hannibal had offered, that home in italy sounded more appealing then ever. she didn’t know how to tell will.
trying to push those thoughts aside, she took a deep breath and slowly began to walk towards alana’s office. alana was shaken up, traumatized from hannibal’s real side. abigail convinced her to be blind, to leave and never come back. she had listened.
“he’s awake.” abigail gave alana a small smile as her eyes grew wide. alana immediately shot up, urging abigail to walk her to will’s room.
-
“will you let me, baby, lose on losing dogs
i know they’re losing and i’ll pay for my place by the ring.”
-
abigail sat in will’s house, a cup of tea in her hand. her hands shook as she held the teacup, a fine porcelain. obviously a gift from hannibal.
the smell of dogs was clear in her nose, her scent so sensitive from hannibal’s past.. aroma therapy. it worked extremely well, and he was very pleased when she could recognize most things just by the smell.
will took a seat next to her, holding his side a little. he still hurt, his body practically always in a state of trauma. however, he still smiled kindly at her, waiting for her to break the silence. she knew what she wanted to say, but she didn't know quite how to word it. she didn't want to upset will, she still felt a little scared of him. of what he was capable of.
“are you still mad at him?”
she took the plunge. they hadn’t brought hannibal up since his attack, not wanting to make things any more tense then they were. however, it was hard. their relationship went from extreme tension to paternal care, and it was a weird change. it almost felt natural, but there were times when it just didn't.
will took a breath in, not quite a gasp but he was clearly surprised at the head on question.
“no,” he laughed bitterly after he said that, continuing-
“i never was.”
abigail nodded, she was kind of aware of this.
“do you think he knows im alive?”
she looked down at the teacup as she asked this, the urge to throw it onto the ground extremely appealing. she wanted to throw it, watch it crack as it hit the floor. she imagined the tea turning into blood, her blood. the teacup in hannibal's world came back together. why can't hers?
will scrunched his eyebrows in thought, he hadn’t thought about that. before he could speak, abigail decided to speak the words she had been debating on saying since the day he woke up.
“we should go find him.”
she turned her whole body to look at him, wanting to see his reaction. will froze, his eyes going wide and his head tilting at her.
“you.. want to go find him?”
he questioned her, waiting for her to laugh and say she was kidding. it never came. instead, she nodded slowly.
“yeah, i do. i think we should go to italy, will. that’s where he said he was going.”
she stared into his dark eyes, trying to gauge his reaction.
will got up, put his glass of whiskey on the table and went to his bedside table to grab two pieces of paper and a pen. he began writing wordlessly, and turned to abigail once he finished.
“we have letters to deliver. to jack crawford and alana bloom.”
abigail smiled, and stood up to follow him out of the house as he bid goodbye to his dogs.
she smiled and rubbed winston's head, she knew they were going to come back for them.