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"No, really, they're not that bad!" Abigail said desperately.
"I dunno Abby," muttered her newest boyfriend. His name was Robert (He went by Robb.), and he was a punk rocker.
Or at least he liked to think he was.
"Everyone says your dads are like, psycho," he muttered.
"They're wrong," Abigail continued to protest. (But her heart wasn't in it, mainly because he was right. Her dads were a bit insane, if you couldn't already tell by the cannibalism thing.)
"Okay, I'll come over for dinner," Robb relented momentarily. He really wasn't hard to win over.
"Great!" Abigail smiled besides herself. "My father's a great chef. You'll love his food."
---
"Hey Dad, my boyfriend's coming for dinner. You'll cook, right? Just make sure you don't kill him like you did James, okay?" Abigail rattled off quickly, entering the living room where Hannibal and Will currently resided.
She looked at her two dads, both ignoring her.
"Hello? Guys? Seriously?" Abigail groaned.
"What happened?"
Will looked at her and glared.
"Leave Hannibal alone. He's suffering from severe emotional trauma right now." Will sniffed before continuing as if he was holding back tears. "So am I."
Abigail looked at the TV and frowned.
"Hey, I deleted those!" she stated, staring at the folder of recorded "Game of Thrones" episodes.
"I recorded them again. You deleted them two months ago," Hannibal said, looking numbly ahead.
"What's wrong with you guys?" Abigail demanded.
"The..." Will took a deep breath before he finished his sentence. "Red Wedding."
Abigail scratched her head in mild confusion.
Wow, marriage. Such a bad thing.
"We finally watched the season three finale of Game of Thrones," Will replied, as if it explained everything.
"Okay then." Abigail cleared her throat. "Can you make something for dinner? Please?" Abigail gave Hannibal her puppy eyes. He never resisted the puppy eyes.
"Very well," Hannibal agreed, but he looked as if he were dead. He was effectively resisting the puppy eyes.
Abigail was a bit worried. She'd never seen her dads in such a state.
Oh well, at least they didn't seem in the mood to kill anybody. She'd like Robb to remain alive, thank you very much.
-/-/-/-/
Robb arrived two hours later.
Abigail had no idea what Hannibal was cooking, but it had to be good. His cooking always was.
And the bright side was, her dads weren't in any state to judge her boyfriend.
Unfortunately, it didn't appear they were in any state to cook either.
"Hey Robb!" Abigail smiled and kissed him quickly when she opened the door.
She was immensely relieved it wasn't Jack Crawford. She probably would have died if she'd kissed Jack Crawford.
Ew, that thought had just put a damper on her evening that would never go away.
The thought of kissing Jack Crawford would haunt her worst nightmares.
"Hey Baby," Robb drawled in his rich New York accent, "What's goin' on?"
"Dinner! Let's eat!" Abigail said enthusiastically, brushing aside her misery. She read on the Internet that the best way to solve problems was to treat everything like a party.
After all, Yahoo Answers never lies.
"Hey Dads, meet Robb!" Abigail announced with a smile when they entered the dining room.
Hannibal and Will took one look at her boyfriend, Hannibal with a look of disinterest and Will with a one of shock, and then they promptly left the dining room.
"Uh..." Robb seemed at a loss for words. He flipped his punk rock hair to the side and looked at Abigail questioningly.
"It's fine, they probably have work to do!" Abigail said cheerfully.
It was a lie, she could hear them turning on the TV and then she heard faint music. That would be the "Game of Thrones" theme song.
Honesty she felt like screaming but whatever.
"Cool. What's this?" Robb asked, pointing to the lone serving bowl in the center of the table.
"Um, dinner," Abigail answered blandly, momentarily forgetting the advice given to her by kawaiidesubaby1999. She remembered and then smiled and looked at him again. "You like soup?"
Robb shrugged, so they sat down and Abigail served them both.
Halfway through the bowl of soup, Abigail frowned and stopped eating. This was definitely Campbell's Clam Chowder. Hannibal never ate anything out of a can. This was blasphemy. Who had kidnapped her dads and replaced them with these two not-psychos who ate out of a can?
This was like Ronald McDonald eating at Burger King. It's just wrong, you don't do it. Wrong, wrong, wrong.
She was only beginning to freak out when she glanced at her boyfriend and found his throat swelling and his face turning red.
"Robb? What's wrong?" Abigail said, trying not to shriek.
"Is this clam chowder?" he choked out.
"Uh, yes?"
"I'm allergic to clams," Robb whispered dramatically.
Abigail cried out. "Dads! Robb's dying!"
"We know!" they both yelled in unison.
"Call nine-one-one!" Abigail yelled at them, pulling out her cell phone and dialing it herself.
"Nine-one-one can't save him! No one can!" Will yelled back sadly.
Abigail practically died because her dads were acting insane.
Well, more so than usual.
As Robb was wheeled away by the paramedics (He wasn't dead. Although Abigail almost wished he was, because now she was going to have to be dumped. Again.), Abigail turned to a much saddened Will and also Hannibal. (Who wasn't depressed as much as quiet and solemn.)
"Dads, you practically let my boyfriend die! What is wrong with you?" Abigail demanded.
"We thought you meant a different Robb, sorry," Will said lamely. He didn't sound very sorry.
"Game of Thrones," Hannibal offered, not sounding the least bit sympathetic. But that wasn't even remotely surprising.
Abigail gaped. "You both practically let my boyfriend die because of a stupid TV show?"
Hannibal and Will both bristled, but Will had the decency to look partially ashamed.
Hannibal glared. "I'm the Chesapeake Ripper. I don't care."
Abigail returned his glare and then looked at Will.
"Sorry." Then, as a very serious afterthought, "Game of Thrones isn't stupid."
Abigail groaned.
-/-/-/-/-/-/
She had no choice.
Really. She didn't. She couldn't allow this obsession to take over their lives anymore.
"Dads, I need to tell you something." Abigail took a breath and looked at them.
"I've decided to stage an intervention."
Will and Hannibal stared at her.
"Alana, Jack, come in please," Abigail said, trying to seem very professional.
Alana and Jack entered the room. Alana looked sympathetic; Jack just looked grumpy. (Told you it was eternal.)
"Will, you haven't been the same at work since last week. What's going on? I can't let this ruin your life, I can't," Jack said blandly. It was quite obvious he was forced into this, especially by the glares he kept sending at Abigail.
Abigail frowned. She'd written that line to be read passionately with feeling and sadness. Not boringly. Oh well.
Alana took a breath. "Hannibal, Will, we all care about you. Which is why..." Alana paused, and Abigail stared at her pointedly.
"I've forgotten the lines," Alana murmured.
Abigail guessed this was the problem with a scripted intervention, but it had seemed like a good idea at the time. She frowned again. She should've watched more episodes of "Intervention" before writing the lines for this.
"You know, Will hasn't actually seemed that different at work," Jack pondered aloud. (Grumpily of course.)
"Yeah. It's just a TV show, they're okay," Alana said with a shrug. "I cried for days when Arthur died in "Merlin." You just have to leave them alone for a while, they'll be okay."
Abigail looked at them helplessly, but Jack and Alana just shrugged.
Will and Hannibal remained silent.
Abigail groaned and marched up to her room, leaving them all alone.
"Oh, and Robb dumped me! Hope you're happy!" Abigail shouted in annoyance.
Will and Hannibal scoffed in unison. What a ridiculous notion.
The Red Wedding just happened, of *course* they weren't happy.