Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Nightmares are normal- for Will, at least. This one is swirls of dark color, abstract thoughts of forehead wounds, restraint, labored breaths. He wakes up in a sweat.

He pants. Once, twice, three times, careful not to wake his sleeping lover. Tonight is different, and his thoughts won’t calm down. His hands tingle, the feeling spreading up his arms down to his feet. His hands grip the sheets below, palms dewy with the kind of sweat that sticks. Four, five, six breaths. Hannibal stirs. He lets out a sleepy noise, tired eyes fighting rest to open.

“Will?” He purrs, blurry eyes adjusting to take in his surroundings. 

Will turns, opening his mouth to speak. No words come, and Hannibal knows. 

“Come, Will.” Hannibal says, eyes softening. His arms open, beckoning the other closer. 

Will does, letting out a small whine as he buries his face into Hannibal’s neck. 

A calloused hand begins rubbing the smaller man’s back, back and forth, side to side- the way Hannibal knows he likes it. 

“Tell me about it, Darling Boy.” Hannibal says, voice soft. He takes his time, letting the silence linger in the air- letting Will ride the waves of his mind. Hannibal runs a few fingers through curly brown hair, twisting it at the end of his fingertips.

 Will hesitates. He goes to speak, breath getting caught in his throat. 

“Breathe.” Hannibal instructs, inhaling from the space between his ribs. As his chest rises, Will feels coaxed to do the same. And it works. 

“Scary.” Will whispers. The minute he does, Hannibal understands. 

“Would you like to talk more?” He asks softly, cooing into his boy’s ear.

Will shakes his head. It’s shy, but affirmative. 

“Small?” Hannibal elongates, tone teasing and playful. 

Will nods. There’s a pause, now soft. 

“Look at me.” Hannibal orders. 

Will’s eyes well with tears, making a noise that of a small animal. He reluctantly raises his head, still not looking at his mama. 

“You’re facing me, angel. Not looking.” He tuts, tucking his baby’s hair behind his ear. 

Will whines, looking at Hannibal. 

“There we go,” he says, eyes softening. “No use in those tears, though.” He wipes the tears from Will's rosy cheeks, damp with sweat and tears. 

“Hush,” Hannibal purrs, shushing his baby. He caresses the back of Will’s head, scratching his scalp in a soothing motion. He frees a second hand, hand ghosting the nightstand- switching on the lamp there. 

Will winces at the light, eyelashes fluttering against Hannibal’s neck. 

“Up, now. Shh.” Hannibal murmurs, sitting up as he situates Will in his arms. Will clings to him much like a koala- making the other man grin when he frees his hands. 

He searches in the drawer of the night stand, pulling out a stuffed dog, fish shaped teether, and a blue pacifier. He sets the items on the smooth wooden surface, gently coaxing the boy to look at the findings. 

“Hm?” He breathes, eyes focused on Will’s captivated look at the treasures. Will infers that he’s supposed to pick what he’d like, but he can’t quite decide. His mama notices, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. 

“How about…” he starts, voice calm. “Winston? Andddd…” He elongates, picking up the dog plush, “This?”. He holds up the pacifier, greeted with one of Will's smiles. It’s a babyish grin, the one distinct from this headspace.  

Will nods, eager. 

Mama passes the toy into his excited hands, slipping the pacifier between slightly parted lips. 

Will squeezes the plush, making himself small in his Mama’s arms. He makes a noise halfway between silence and a squeak, a common happy noise for the baby boy. He returns to his placement, nuzzled in Hannibal’s neck. 

His Mama lets out a contented sigh, rubbing his back. 

“There we go…” He starts, voice quiet. “Safe. Always.”

Chapter Text

Soft, classical music echos throughout the study. L’inverno’s notes drift from vinyl to the ears of both Hannibal, and his boy. Will. 

Will sits on the hardwood floor, resting on his tummy. He’s wearing a soft set, a warm knit sweater in his favorite color, green. The dark olive color mixes with the boy’s hazel corduroys, finished with warm knit socks. He happily hums, blue pacifier between his lips. In his hands, he holds two toys. A chocolate labrador calico critter and a deer one. He’s spoiled by his mama, evident by the tub of critters next to the baby boy. 

Hannibal sits in his leather chair, just feet away. He holds a book, title, genre lost upon him as his eyes focus on Will.

“Will.” He hums, putting down the neglected text. 

Will turns, toys still in hand. He makes a small and inquisitive noise, focused on his mama. 

Hannibal hesitates, intending on calling the boy over but refusing to disturb his play. He stands, moving from the chair to the floor. He sits and crosses his legs, eyes locked on his baby the entire time. 

“So,” He tuts, “what is my darling up to?” He finishes in a purr, soft smile warming his face. He tucks a piece of hair behind Will’s ear, pulling on the ring of the boy’s pacifier to coax it out. 

Will whines at the removal, taken from his mouth with a pop! His mouth adjusts to the emptiness, and he chews his bottom lip. 

“Toys.” He smiles, answer short. 

“And?” Mama grins, encouraging the boy into a longer answer. Will was the opposite of a chatty baby, his regression remarkably quiet most days. Hannibal loved glimpses into the little one’s mind, so enticements like these were commonplace. 

“They’re friends.” Will says, matter-of-factly. “Best friends.” 

“Is that so?” Hannibal smiles, eyebrows raising. “Well, would you and these friends like a snack?” 

Will’s eyes light up, and he nods vigorously. 

“Alright then,” Hannibal nods, sliding the pacifier back into his baby’s mouth. “Be back shortly.” He smiles, standing before making his way to the kitchen. 

He comes back soon with a sectioned plate, filled with small berries, popcorn, and cubes of salami. A few squares of milk chocolate sit on the outliers of the plate, dessert not touching the main course- a preference of his little boy.

“Something of a charcuterie, my dearest boy.” Hannibal teases, leaning down to pass the plate. 

Will accepts with grateful but grabby little hands, careful to set his toys safely down beside him. 

“Can’t forget,” Hannibal tuts, presenting the boy with an apple juice filled bottle. “This.” 

Will smiles, accepting the drink. 

“Thank you,” He says, voice quiet as he smiles. “Mama.” 

Hannibal smiles, running his fingers through his baby’s hair. 

“My pleasure, sweet boy.” He coos, taking another seat. He sits side to side with the child, fishing the boy’s favorite critters out of the box. He turns to Will, who’s already eating. “Alright if I play too?” He smiles, and Will beams in return. 

“Yeah,” Will nods, a boyish grin on his face as he chews. 

“I’ve always found these toys rather charming,” Hannibal says, grinning. It’s only with Will he allows himself this type of recreation- playing with toys in the same room his guests wander into while sipping cocktails. 

Will points a finger at the chocolate labrador. “Me.” He says with a little giggle, before he points at the deer. “An’ you.” 

“Really?” Hannibal says, breaking his neutral outlook for a charmed, humored one. “Best Friends we are, then?” He inquires, putting on an exaggerated serious facade. 

“Yeah,” Will giggles again, through sips of his drink. “Snack good.” He says, simplistically. “Thank you.” 

“You’re very welcome,” Hannibal beams, still trying to figure out these toys. Will’s eyes follow his mama’s hands to face as Hannibal starts to talk again. “I think, that this dog would like a piece of chocolate.” He grins, moving the labrador closer to his boy. 

“No,” Will says, hasty. 

“No?” Hannibal rebuts, amused and letting out a soft chuckle. 

Will shakes his head, a firm no. 

“Why not, then?” Hannibal asks, cocking his head in a faux confusion. 

“Dogs can’t have choc ‘lat, mama,” the boy says, eyes wide. 

Hannibal breathes a soft laugh, face softening. “Clever boy,” He tuts. “Well, can mama have some?” He asks gently.

Will smiles, nodding. He hands his carer a square of the chocolate. 

“Thank you, sweetness.” Hannibal says, splitting it in two and handing a half back to the baby. “One for each of us, Hm?” He grins. 

Will’s eyes light up at the gift, though his plate contains a plethora of the sweetness. “Thank you,” Will says, soft but strong. 

Hannibal smiles in return, nodding a silent you’re welcome. “Have your treat, Angel,” He coos, “And I’ll enjoy mine.”