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He, as Alexander The Great did before him, went crazy at the realization that he had lost his own Hephaestion. His Patroclus was forever lost, and he didn't have the slightest opportunity to change that fate. Will Graham was forever lost that night on the shore, when Poseidon had freed them both from his ferocious claws.
Hannibal didn't have time to mourn his death. He too, was annihilated in the exact moment where he knew he had lost it all. Because Will Graham was all he had, all he had ever loved. Tears wouldn't soak his face, not a word would leave his mouth. He keeps thinking about what their future would look like . They could have had it all: a new life, where violence could be replaced by something new, something that smelled like spring and tasted like ambrosia. And now, there was nothing left, not a single reminder of Will's presence. Water has erased it all, carrying away the American's life, stealing his breath until his heart stopped beating.
Losing Will after the beautiful moment they have shared on the cliff, after seeing everything he had dreamed about come true; seemed unbearable. Life had lost meaning to him. Life, was now a constant pain.
Once he had felt Will's beating heart against his chest, the sweet intimacy of closeness, that almost kiss that drove him above the sky and made him feel like a true God... what did he have left?
Alcohol wasn't part of the problem. It was part of the solution. A solution of silence, of self-destruction; a masochist resolution to his insufferable ache.
When Dionysus intoxicated his mind, the pain was at least tolerable, and only then he dared to open the vast doors of his Memory Palace after several days of isolation. Drunk, with pain, with sadness and wine, he came to the Chapel, where Will had come to find him after finally accepting himself.
— You smell like wine — Graham said, turning himself to face a tired and desolate Hannibal. He offered a smile, sad but warm, but he knew it wouldn't erase his pain, their pain .
— You smell like Heaven — hearing Will's laugh after all that pain, made Hannibal's heart beat painfully fast. — Do you think that's where I went to? Heaven ? — Hannibal nodded, fighting the tears that threatened to fall down his face. He had built a Heaven for him, a Paradise, free of a regrets, of pain, of sadness. A place where they could meet, again .
— Why did you go? Why did you leave? — the words came out of Lecter's mouth in a painful whisper, that took almost all of his strength to pronounce. He was afraid of the answer, of knowing that, perhaps, Will was happy with his decision, with his own fate.
— I'm right here, — one, two, maybe four steps before they were both close to each other. A bare caress on Hannibal's cheek that made him fall apart, into a thousand pieces that nobody would ever collect. He was just a monster to the world's eyes, but in that moment, he was just a man in love with a memory.
— I'm here with you. — beneath the touch of his hand, Graham could feel the humidity that Hannibal's tears had caused. He'd never thought of seeing Hannibal crying in front of him again; it took Death to witness such a terrible pain.
Will's drunkenness wasn't caused by wine, but by need. He needed Hannibal, dead or alive, he needed him . He needed to put an end to what he’d started on that cliff, where he had found himself, victorious over the Dragon's murder; where he understood that love could be stronger than violence. Where they shared an embrace in which he realized death wasn't as frightening as a life without Hannibal Lecter.
The Lithuanian’s lips tasted like wine, and salt, and tears. They moved slowly, drunk on pain, on loneliness, on despair. We're both alone without each other, Lecter had said long time ago, now, they both could understand the feeling.
Death never felt so sweet, so tender to Hannibal Lecter. It was a kiss, an embrace, it was a reunion of lovers.
It was Will, again by his side.