Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Will shot up in bed, sweat damp hair plastered to his forehead, his chest heaving. He looked anxiously around the darkened bedroom, checking each corner, trying desperately to convince himself that he was safe. Once he had confirmed that there were no uninvited guests present, he stole a quick glance at the alarm clock on his bedside table.

2:45

He pulled his knees up to his chest and buried his face in his hands, muttering to himself,

“My name is Will Graham. It’s 2:45 am . I’m in Wolf Trap, Virginia. I’m safe. I’m home”

From the pillow beside him, a voice husked in the dark

“You are safe, but you are also going to feel terrible in the morning if you don’t get some rest, my dear.”

Will lifted his head to look at Hannibal; one arm thrown over his eyes, sheets slung low over his waist to reveal his bare chest. He had been so terrified by the specter of his dream, he had nearly forgotten that his lover was sleeping beside him. Sliding back under the blankets beside him, Will moved Hannibal’s arm to wrap it around his shoulders and snuggled into his chest tightly.

Hannibal groaned softly and placed a sleepy kiss on his forehead,

“Another nightmare?”

Will hummed an acknowledgement into his skin, eliciting another soft kiss, this time on his cheek.

“Do you think you’ll be able to return to sleep?”

Will gave a frustrated groan and mumbled

“No, I’m up. The alarm is gonna go off in like two hours anyways. I think if I tried to go back to sleep I’d just lay here long enough to get annoyed by it or fall asleep ten minutes before it was time to get up. I can head to the living room so you can go back to sleep.”

He kissed Hannibal’s chest just below his pec and tried to sit up, but found himself pulled back into place. He angled his neck to see Hannibal had his eyes open now, and he was looking down at him with a playful smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“You know I can’t sleep without you by my side, my love. So if we’re both going to be awake…..”

He slowly ran a finger along Will’s jaw until his hand settled in the damp curls on the back of his neck.

“I think we could find of a few things to pass the time until the alarm sounds without having to leave the comfort of our bed. Don’t you?”

Will stuck his chin out, playfully

“Oh really? And what did you have in mind? Gonna bore me back to sleep with a reading from one of your latest psychology textbook contributions?”

Hannibal laughed dryly

“Oh, what a funny boy you are.”

He twisted his fingers in Will’s curls, pulling his head back to expose his neck and drawing a soft whine from his lips.

He examined him cooly, rolling onto his side while keeping him pinned in place by his hair  

“We’ve gotten sarcasm from you, let’s see if we can’t get at least three orgasms from you before the sun is up. What do you have to say to that, beautiful?”

Will nodded, already breathless at the idea of Hannibal’s body on his.

With a speed that surprised him, Hannibal threw his leg over his hips, straddling him. His hair was still trapped in the large hand, his neck vulnerable to teeth and tongue. He cried out as he felt the gentle pressure of bites just measured enough not break skin. He wanted more, wanted to be marked by Hannibal.

Carrying proof of their lovemaking with him made Will feel like Hannibal never let him, even when one or the other was called away to consult on a case or speak at a conference in a neighboring state. If he missed his lover, all he had to do was run his fingers along the irregular borders of a bite mark. Like Braille communicated a story to the blind, these marks told Will that he was wanted.

Loved

And desperately needed to satisfy a great hunger.

He could already feel the dampness on his thighs when Hannibal lifted the elastic band of his boxers. The older man purred praise into his cheek as he traced wet folds with his middle finger before dipping in it inside him, sound of approval thrumming in his chest.

“How eager my pigeon is! You know I love when I can feel how much you need me inside you, why don’t you tell me as well?”

As he spoke, he worked his already swollen clit; quick passes interspersed with torturously slow circles.

Will swallowed hard and tried to focus; between Hannibal’s warm breath on his skin and the fingers inside him , this was proving to be a much more difficult task than he had anticipated. He licked his lips and gave it a try, his words bleeding together like a drunk’s.

“H-Hannibal, oh fuck , that feels sofuckengood. I need you  sobad… shitshitshit.. Ohhhh fuck , I’m gonna cum.”

Hannibal made a pleased little sound in the back of his throat and thrust a second finger inside of him, the strokes fast and deliciously filling.

“There’s my best boy. Now let’s give you your reward.”

Will felt his fingers scissor and flex against his walls and then with a final thrust, the small brush fire that had started in his abdomen became a raging conflagration, spreading to his brain and rendering him wordless. He bucked against the mattress, squeezing his thighs around his lover’s arm, riding the wave of his orgasm until he could feel the build of his second already beginning to mount.

Hannibal smiled and placed a soft kiss on the scar he had bitten into Will’s shoulder, then slowly he began to sink under the blankets, his hands trailing down his sides to tug down his already soaked boxers.

Face still buzzing with pleasure, Will lifted his head off the pillow to watch him disappear. He bit his lip, feeling a grin tugging against his teeth as he lay back down, waiting to feel the first brush against his core.

Seconds felt like years.

Then he felt Hannibal press his face into his pussy, nuzzling against his clit and lavishing his hole with the press of his tongue, and he was ablaze all over again.

His back arched and Hannibal released his grip on his right thigh to press him back flat on the mattress, a soft growl drifting out from under the blankets as he bobbed against him.

Will cried out softly as he felt tongue replaced with fingers, his brow furrowing. Then he felt teeth claiming purchase on the inside of his thigh, harder than they had on his neck, His breath caught in his throat.

Pleasure and pain battled for dominance in his mind, somehow blending into one sensation that threatened to tip him over the edge. He couldn’t be sure if the moisture puddling beneath him was slick or blood.

Either way, he was going to ruin the sheets.

He felt the heat of Hannibal’s tongue dragging slowly over each of the bites before it returned to his pussy. He sucked on his clit as he used the blood and slick to wet his fingers before he started tracing the tight ring of Will’s asshole and plunging a finger inside.

Will hissed, a sharp intake of breath, as he braced against the sudden intrusion. But the discomfort had been eased by his own lubrication, making it much easier to focus solely on the nearly overwhelming feeling of Hannibal possessing him. The moment he felt his tongue slipping back inside his cunt, Will could feel himself unraveling.

He groped for Hannibal under the sheets, trying to find something to hold onto to keep himself here on earth, in this moment. He felt the tremendous pressure of his body tightening like a coil, then releasing, tearing a ragged moan from deep within his chest.

He slumped weakly against the mattress, his legs falling to trap Hannibal between them.

Somewhere in reality, he could hear Hannibal chuckling softly, feel the sting of the sweat on his face against the bite marks as he lazily kissed them clean. But Will was in space, his head floaty and filled with nothing but bliss.

He continued kissing his legs, moving upward towards his hips, nuzzling against his stomach and dipping his tongue in his bellybutton. Ticklish, Will squirmed, pushing Hannibal’s head away from his stomach playfully. He heard a gasp of mock offense from under the blankets, then felt his side pinched between teeth.  In a voice muffled by the fold of skin in his mouth, Hannibal mumbled

“Will, don’t you know I eat the rude?”

Will lifted off his pillow onto his elbows, unsure he had heard him correctly

“H-what?”

A wide hand was suddenly on his chest, pushing him back down flat on the mattress, catching him off guard.

The heat of Hannibal’s mouth was on him again, tongue dragging along the length of one hip before teeth clamped onto his stomach, catching his small middle-aged paunch in their vicelike grip.

Will gasped, crying out and pushing back against the hand that pinned him in place.

“Uh-ah! Ah!?! Ow! Hannibal what the fuck?! What are you doing? Let me up! This isn’t funny! That’s too hard!”

There was no reply from under the blankets

Only the sickening crunch of teeth as they sank deeply into flesh.

A burning heat consumed him, and his head began to spin. The room around him seemed to blur and lose its shape, melting into the cold sweat that was breaking out over his entire body. Even if Hannibal wasn’t keeping him firmly pressed into the mattress, he wouldn’t have been able to move his limbs. He rolled his head on his pillow, feverishly searching the bedside table for the corded switch of the lamp.

A fresh wave of heat and nausea swept over him as he heard another wet, sickly  crunch.

Not only did he hear it, he felt it

With what felt like an enormous personal effort, Will extracted an arm from under the blankets and flung it limply onto the side table, tossing the damp sheets onto the floor with the movement. The room was still too dark, he could only see the outline of the hunched shape that was Hannibal, hanging over him like a dark omen.

He grappled with the cord for what felt like eternity before his fingers connected with the switch. With a blinding flash of light, the room was illuminated, and he cast a frantic glance down at his lover.

It took a few moments for Will to understand what Hannibal was doing, head tucked low near his abdomen; as soon as he felt the slice of an incisor, the horrifying realization struck him and he screamed.

Hannibal snapped his gaze up to look at him, the crazed wail catching his attention. He swallowed the chunk of abdominal muscle in his mouth and rested his head on Will’s hip.

He beamed up at him, blood smeared across his mouth like a doorframe during the Egyptian plagues.

“I hope you don’t mind, my dear. I got a bit peckish.”

Will’s eyes shot open wide and sat straight up in bed, gasping and sobbing. The sun was up, a beam cutting through the window blinding him momentarily. He blinked hard, trying to understand where Hannibal had gone.

 He was alone in the bed, his gore splattered lover nowhere to be found; He looked at the pillow beside him and found it empty.  Panicked, he lifted his t-shirt to discover that his stomach was intact. He breathed a heavy sigh of relief and flopped back onto his pillow.

It was all a dream , the thought tried to soothe him. But his heart was still racing as if he were being hunted for sport.

From the far corner of the room, he heard the squeak of door hinges. Hannibal, wet hair and towel wrapped around his waist, entered the room. When he saw that Will was awake, he gave him a warm smile; one that was uncomfortably similar to the one Will had just seen in his dream.

He crossed the room and slid over the comforter to lay beside Will, kissing his hip reverently and looking up at him to study his furrowed, damp countenance.

“Are you alright, my love? Did you have another nightmare?”

Will hummed an acknowledgement, still a bit too unsettled to talk about it.

Hannibal tutted sadly and wrapped an arm around his stomach, pulling him into a hug, his damp hair starting to soak through the blankets.

“Ugh!  Poor pet. I’m here now, there’s nothing to worry about.”

Will gazed down at him and stroked a limp ashy bang off his forehead as he nuzzled against him.

I know that , he thought to himself.

Now if I could just shake the feeling that I don’t know that for sure

Chapter Text

Winston was pacing the kitchen, making small circles around Abigail as she stood at the stove. Nose low to the ground, snuffling for crumbs, he left a slimy track on the laminate. At the end of his circuit, he stopped and nosed her leg, whining softly for a taste of the French toast she was preparing in one of Hannibal’s copper bottom frying pans.

She looked down at him, a warm smile on her face

“Buddy, you know if it were up to me, I’d make a slice just for you. But you know what Will said.”

She furrowed her brow and did her best impression of her guardian, painting her words with a slight Southern drawl

“No people food for the dogs, otherwise they’ll get even lazier and needier than they already are.”

She laughed her wheezy laugh and shook her head, reaching down to ruffle the dog’s fluffy ears before quickly scooping the bread out of the frying pan, catching it just as it had started to burn. She wrinkled her nose at the smell but assumed she could soften any offensive aftertaste with a healthy application of powdered sugar and syrup.

She turned back to the dog at her heels and said playfully

“I won’t tell them if you don’t, deal?”

The large mutt huffed as if he was agreeing to her terms.

“And what knowledge is our four-legged friend privy to that we are not?”

Hannibal’s uncanny ability to seemingly materialize out of thin air never failed to catch Abigail off guard; she gave a small jump but stopped herself from dropping the plates in her hands, much to Winston’s disappointment. She spun to see Hannibal and Will entering the room, their hands tightly laced.

“Oh, nothing important. I was just telling Winston not to tell y’all how cute I think it is that you and Will are practically attached at the hip. With you two keeping each other entertained, I have plenty of time to hone my culinary skills.”

She flashed him a wicked smile; teasing Hannibal had become one of her favorite pastimes. Watching his polished demeanor dissolve with either annoyance or laughter never failed to entertain her.  This time she was rewarded with a playful smile and a roll of his eyes. He huffed and said

“Very funny, miss. Although I will say, it is refreshing to see another person in the kitchen without having to stifle the fear that they will burn the house down.”

He half-turned to look pointedly at Will, who clutched his imaginary pearls

“Okay, so you melt one pan, and you’ll never hear the end of it, I guess.”

Abigail laughed, her shoulders shaking as she set the plates down on the table in front of their seats. Hannibal pulled out a chair for Will, then turned to the cabinets to start preparing coffee for the both of them from the percolator on the stove. He scanned the mess on the counters and in the sink with an intrigued grin.

“So, what’s the occasion for this burst of culinary energies?”

Abigail wrinkled her nose

“Huh?”

“Quite a large production for simply honing one’s skills. Are you attempting to impress us or ask for our forgiveness?”

She was standing beside him with her own coffee mug now, and shot him a sidelong glance,

“Both? Neither, I guess? I don’t know…”

She chewed her bottom lip and stuck her cup out for Hannibal to fill. He studied her face instead of watching the cup, but managed to leave enough room for cream and sugar without spilling any of the dark liquid. Abigail took a few steps back to lean against the stove, taking the cup in both hands, but she didn’t take a sip.

Hannibal crossed to take his seat at the kitchenette, sliding Will’s cup in front of him, all without taking his eyes off her. He took a small sip of the coffee and wiped his bottom lip with his thumb before he spoke.

“Well, whichever it is, I suppose there’s no time like the present. How can we be of service?”

She drummed her fingers against the side of her mug and sighed nervously

“ So… I was thinking with things getting back to normal… or whatever normal is for us..”

Hannibal and Will exchanged glances but said nothing.

She finally took a swig of her coffee and continued

“I was thinking- and don’t get me wrong, I really appreciate everything you guys have done for me, especially giving me somewhere to stay, Will and Hannibal… you know….

But I was thinking about… starting to look at maybe going to school?”

Will was the first to speak, nodding toward Hannibal to indicate that they were in agreement

“That’ s awesome, I think that’s a great idea. Do you have any schools in mind or-“

“I was actually looking at your school, George Washington. I- I want to do what you do. Become a detective, maybe even join the FBI. I want to help people.”

She looked down at Winston and pushed his fur back from his eyes and added softly

“I figure I might be able to use everything I went through for good.”

A heavy silence fell over the kitchen. Thankfully, Hannibal sensed the sadness in her words and spoke, cutting the tension

“Well, it seems as if you’ve made up your mind and we'll wholeheartedly endorse whatever decision you should make. I do think it would be best if we went up and took a look around so that you can be sure you’ve made the best choice.”

Abigail looked up at him, her brow furrowed

“What?”

Hannibal smiled and reached across the table to squeeze Will’s hand

“I think it would be a fantastic idea. Take a jaunt up the 495, make a weekend of it; get the lay of the land before you make any final decisions. What do you think, Will? Do you think Jack could be convinced to spare you for a few days?”

Will stuttered for a moment, trying to think of any reason why he wouldn’t be able to get away and blowing out a mouthful of air.

“Can’t see why not.”

He smiled softly at Abigail, trying not to reveal any sign that his stomach was beginning to tie itself into knots.

Abigail beamed brightly

“Wow, okay. That’s so cool, thank you.”

She pointed at the back door then Winston, the large dog excitedly swooshing his tail

“Awesome…umm, I guess I’ll let you guys eat your breakfast. Me and Winston are gonna go for a run.”

She started for the door, patting her thigh to signal to Winston that he should follow her. As she passed near the kitchenette, she quickly threw an arm around both men’s necks in a quick hug.

“Thanks” she said quietly before hurrying out the door, the large dog at her heels.

Will and Hannibal sat silently for a few moments before the older man spoke

“I hope I didn’t put you on the spot about work, I can understand if you are unable to get away.”

Will shook his head as he sawed a corner off his piece of French toast and popped it into his mouth

“No, you’re fine. I don’t think it’ll be a problem. The Bureau has been a lot… quieter lately.”

They exchanged a meaningful look before Will stood up to look out the kitchen window.

He watched Abigail and Winston as they made their way down the long driveway, slowly disappearing over the hill. Suddenly, he felt Hannibal’s arms wrap around him, his chest pressing against his back and his cheek nuzzling against his.

He sighed deeply and leaned back into his embrace, then heard his voice purring near his ear

“What are you thinking, pigeon? I can tell you’re troubled. Still thinking about that nightmare?”

“I worry about her…”

Hannibal lifted the coffee cup in his hands to Will’s lips to offer him a sip

“About her going on a run or going to school?”

Will swallowed deeply and wiped a drip of coffee off his lip onto the side of the cup

“If I’m being honest? Both.”

Hannibal chuckled

“Well, at least you’re being honest. I suppose this is the life of a father; you want nothing more than for your child to spread their wings only to watch them with bated breath as they fly away. One advantage we have over other parents is the knowledge that our child knows how to defend herself.”

Will hummed in agreement

“I guess you’re right, but somehow that isn’t making me feel much better in the moment.”

He nudged him with his cheek to ask for another sip of the coffee; Hannibal laughed softly and obliged him, tipping more of the coffee into his mouth.

In an attempt to distract himself from his anxieties, Will leaned his head back and looked up at Hannibal

“So, what are your plans for the day? Any patients you have to go back into Baltimore for?”

Hannibal shook his head and squeezed him a little tighter.

“No, not today. Today my sole devotion is to this home and all the lovely creatures who dwell within it. I’ll tidy up in here, and then I think I’ll go to the market. We are in dire need of fresh rosemary, and I’ll need a few other things for the meal I’ll be preparing this evening.”

“Anyone I know?”

Hannibal snorted; half amused, half offended

“Very funny, my love. I could call myself a king, seeing that I am surrounded by jesters. No, I was planning for an osso bucco , made of the beef shank we picked up at the farmer’s market last week. “

He looked down at Will, suddenly serious

“ I’ve told you, my dear. That season of my life is behind me. You are the only person I care for ; the knowledge that my former….. let’s call them , shopping habits, can put you in danger, put our family in danger, is enough of a deterrent for me not to be tempted into backsliding.”

“While it pains me to weather the ocean of idiocy and discourteousness we call the human race without some option of balancing the scales, your comfort and safety carry a much higher value than temporarily assuaging my annoyance. “

Seemingly eager to change the subject, he asked after a beat

“What of your day? You have classes this afternoon, yes?”

Will stretched and wrapped his arms around Hannibal’s neck, reaching up to twist the hair at the back of his neck as he spoke

“ Uhh, yeah. But it’s just one though, so I should be home in time for dinner, as long as Jack doesn’t catch me. He seems to know my schedule almost as well as you do, so I wouldn’t be surprised if I find him camped outside my lecture hall. “

“I’m worried about him, Hannibal. He’s going through it right now. Bella’s not doing so great; she got the official diagnosis last week and I think it’s hitting him pretty hard. It seems like he’s just throwing himself into work instead of dealing with how he feels about everything.”

Hannibal hummed thoughtfully

“I can imagine the fear he must be feeling. The thought of losing your life’s mate is a mortifying one, especially for two as devoted to each other as the Crawfords. I suppose I could offer my services to both Jack and Bella, see if there’s anything that I can do to assist them through this period of …difficulty.”

He sighed and snuggled against Will’s neck, as if chilled by the thought of losing Will to some horrible extended illness the way Jack was sure to lose Bella.

The kitchen was silent for a moment, save for the ticking of the clock over the door before Will spoke.

“Well, I guess I better get in the shower myself, it’ll be time to leave before I know it.”

Hannibal gave him a final tight squeeze and then released him.

“As much as I despise it, you are correct. I’ll get started in here to distract myself from my sorrow, I suppose.”  

Will unwrapped his arms from Hannibal’s neck and started to leave the kitchen, only to feel his hand caught by his lover. He turned to see Hannibal gazing at him, love in his eyes and a playful grin tugging at his lips

“What?”

Hannibal chuckled then said

“Look at us: Abigail going back to school. You, the dedicated professor and steadfast friend. And me-“

He gestured to himself with a dramatic flourish

“the reformed home maker. Our little murder family is doing quite well, if I may say so.”

Will groaned, pulling his hand from Hannibal’s grasp.

“Ugh! I hate that! Don’t call us that”

“So, when the jester has his own tactics used against him, he suddenly discovers how uncouth they are? Interesting…”

He reached for Will’s hand and kissed it as an apology

“Be fair though, pet. It is much cleverer than whatever the Tattler would conjure up to describe what it is we are. “

Will furrowed his brow, still not sure if he accepted the apology or not

“And how would you describe us?”

Hannibal kissed his hand again and said without hesitation

“Home. Imperfect and occasionally felonious, but home all the same.”

Chapter Text

While he had mostly been joking, Will was surprised when he didn’t actually see Jack waiting for him in a folding chair outside his lecture hall.  

He was sitting at Will’s desk instead, flipping through a stack of crime scene photos.  He looked up when he heard the door close.

“Well, hello there Will. Glad to see you.”

Will looked around the lecture hall to find it empty, save for the BAU agent-in-charge.

“Did I misread the class schedule again?”

Jack shook his head

“No, you had a class today. But the cadets were sent out on training maneuvers. I’m gonna guess you didn’t see the text because you were driving?”

Will furrowed his brow and stuck his hand in his satchel, fishing for his phone. When he connected with the cold glass of the screen, he felt the buzz of a text notification. Jack gave a soft laugh when he saw the look of recognition dawn on his face. He rose slowly from the chair as he spoke.

“I may not have ever understood how your imagination works, but I ‘ve definitely learned your habits.”

He walked around the front of the desk to lean against it, steepling his fingers.

“I’m glad you still came. It gives us a chance to talk about things.”

Will shifted his weight, a pinprick of anxiety barbing him behind the sternum.

“What kind of things, Jack?”

“I guess I’m curious about where your thoughts are on the Ripper. Any theories to explain this absence?”

He hoped that Jack hadn’t noticed the slight tremble in his hand as he shoved it into his coat pocket. Using his free hand to brush the curls back off his forehead, he offered

“I would assume you’ve read my recent profile. It seems-“

Jack cut him off, impatiently

“Yes, Will. I’ve read the profile. And the notes on your desk and I’ve asked your cadets what you’ve said about The Ripper in your lectures. I’m asking you. How do you explain the fact that this person seems to have vanished into thin air? Especially when you seemed extremely insistent upon the fact that we were seemingly days from catching him?”

A beat, then he added

“Or her.”

Will cocked his head. This wasn’t a correction or attempt to be inclusive. Jack was making a point, one that made Will extremely uncomfortable.

He ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek, frustration joining the anxiety

“Well, Jack it seems like you have a few theories of your own.”

Jack lifted an eyebrow, but gave no other sign that he noticed the sarcasm biting at the edges of the words.

“Oh no, I could never pretend to have the instinct for the criminal mind that you do….. I just find it interesting that the killings stopped as soon as Abigail Hobbs had stable housing and an FBI agent who could let her know if she was being suspicious.”

There it is

The thought hit Will like a ton of bricks. He knew Jack had always had his doubts about Abigail and her innocence when it came to her father’s murders. But to accuse her of somehow being involved with the Ripper killings bordered on reckless.

Will shook his head and huffed

“Jack, I know you’re looking for answers, but even you have to see how completely out of line this is. And nonsensical! There were at least two murders attributed to the Ripper while she was in Port Haven. Are you implying that she somehow escaped a secure mental health facility to kill a person, then snuck back in, unnoticed, with a cooler full of organs and no one bothered to put that in their shift notes? And she did this more than once?”

“What I’m saying, Will, is that she’s killed with a partner before, her father. Why is it so unlikely that she’s found a new mentor. Hell, you said it yourself. The Ripper made an homage to the Shrike. Maybe it was his way of telling him ‘ Don’t worry Garrett, I can teach your little girl all kinds of new ways to kill!’ “

He looked Will up and down

“She’s already found a surrogate father, why do you have such a hard time believing that she could have found a new partner in crime? You know psychopaths don’t just stop, Will. They are stopped.”

Jack voice had been rising steadily as he spoke, so that when he stopped, the silence in the room felt exceptionally heavy.

Will tapped his leg with his fingertips inside his pocket. He knew that being emotional with Jack right now was not going to help anything; he was clearly overwhelmed and frustrated with much more than the lack of an arrest in this case.

Hannibal’s words in the back of his mind gave him perspective and helped to keep him calm

The thought of losing your life’s mate is a mortifying one, especially for two as devoted to each other as the Crawfords

He exhaled through his nose and replied calmly

“Jack, I understand that you’re frustrated. I am too. But we will find the Ripper eventually. We just have to-“

“I don’t want to find him eventually! I want him now. I want him yesterday! You should want that too!”

“And we’re on the same team here Jack. But I don’t think that going to the courts with the explanation that Little Orphan Annie is the big bad Ripper is gonna fly!”

“This isn’t a joke, Will!”

Will threw his hands in the air, letting them fall dramatically at his sides

“Well, it sure sounds that way to me! It sounds like you’re going out of your way to accuse a teenage girl of crimes that she has no relation to based on a hunch; a hunch about other crimes you have no evidence she was even involved in! If it’s not a joke, what is it, Jack?”

Jack clenched his jaw, clearly very angry now

“You know that a lot of other people in this department theorized that she was involved in the Shrike killings, it’s not just me.”

Will grimaced, clearly annoyed.

“Yeah, and those theories have always been shaky at best.”

“The last time I checked, you were pretty shaky, Will. That didn’t stop me from making the time for you.”

Will nodded, resignation settling into his expression.

“Look, Jack. I understand what you’re feeling right now.”

“And what is it that I’m feeling, Will? What great insight has that calculator between your ears allowed you to perceive?”

Jack was very clearly hurting, and he seemed much more comfortable pretending that his fear and discomfort was anger.

Will sighed, making sure he was choosing his words carefully. Jack was not only the agent-in-charge; he was his friend. He was a man he greatly respected and, most days with the FBI, had put himself on the line to earn his respect back.

Will had never spoken emotionally with Jack about real things, like their lives outside of the BAU. Will only knew about Bella because he had overheard a receptionist passing a sympathy card around the office; a card that he had seen in Jack’s office trash can later that same week.

Will breathed deeply then said in a soft voice

“Jack, I understand that you’re going through a lot right now. Dealing with … something like what you and Bella are going through can’t be easy. You feel powerless to stop it, so  you throw yourself into something you feel like you can control: this case. But I promise you, you aren’t gonna find the Ripper by entertaining half-baked theories and lazy hunches. “

“Abigail isn’t a monster, Jack. Anymore than you or me. She’s just a person who’s been through something extremely fucked up and difficult. And now she’s trying to live life on the other side. “

The brimstone glint flashed away from his eyes momentarily. Jack was no saint , but he was a good man where it counted. Will knew he hated being like this, feeling this fear and allowing it to make him cruel because it seemed like the only way to keep himself safe. He didn’t truly mean the things he was saying. He hung his head and sighed, shoulders slumping slightly.

Will reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder , squeezing it gently.

“If there’s anything I can do for you and Bella-“

Jack straightened suddenly, jerking his hand out of Wil’s grip. His eyes suddenly smoldering.

“Well, for starters you stop coddling an adult who is, at best, a witness , and worst a suspect. You can do your job so that I can spend less of the precious time I have left with my Wife!-“

His voice suddenly rose to a shout as if to dramatically punctuate the word with a specific flavor of anger he wanted to be noticed.

“Instead of jumping at every single NIBRS report, looking for a goddamn pattern! Stop letting your personal shit cloud your judgement!”

“Oh come on Jack, you know I am enough of a -“

“How many nights did you spend in Abigail Hobb’s hospital room? Did she even check a Craigslist board before you offered her a place to stay? It seems an awful lot like you’re letting your guilt over killing your father get to your head and distract you!”

It was almost impressive how he failed to recognize the irony of his own words.

He stabbed a finger at Will

“Do your job.”

He turned on his heel and headed for the door.

Without thinking, Will replied

“Ready to get started whenever you are, boss.”

Jack stopped. He was silent for a moment before he said, without turning

“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that .”

And he was gone.

Chapter Text

Hannibal had always been much more fastidious about his appearance than the average man, but even he had noticed his nighttime regimen becoming much more involved as of late. He suspected it was not solely because he wanted to look his best for Will, as he had attempted to convince himself; but in fact, it was due to a desperate need for the control of a routine.

Killing had never held any pleasure for Hannibal, in the traditional sense. Most killers take a life to satisfy a need, whether it be sexual or emotional. But to Hannibal, killing typically held no greater thrill than wiping a fingerprint off a windowpane. It was a righting of a wrong; most of the lives Hannibal had taken provided him with nothing more than a good meal and the satisfaction of a job well done.

It was his way of restoring the balance. Nothing more, nothing less.

But he had made a promise to Will. No more killing. Will had been much less at ease about the murders and nonconsensual cannibalism than Hannibal had expected him to be; seeming much more concerned with the fact that he had been lied to. That was going to take some making up for.  

 He imagined that he just had to play along for a few months, be a good boy and count to ten anytime he encountered a person who would have ended up enveloped in a flaky pastry had they crossed his path even three months ago. Then, once he had proved to Will that he was able to control himself, live a normal life, he was sure he would be able to convince him to allow at least one or two hunting trips a year. Maybe even convince him to come along on a few.

But, now, as he sat in front of the vanity mirror, the charade was beginning to wear on him.

He studied the face reflected back at him cooly. He could see what the rest of the world saw:  a handsome face, a polished demeanor, the glint of intelligence behind his dark eyes. But he could tell there was something else, something off, that only he was able to perceive. A subtle unstable feeling that he hadn’t seen in quite some time.

He found himself unable to shake the feeling that he could see not only himself, but the ash-darkened face of his younger self. He would blink hard and the face would be gone, but he would be left with the feeling that he was right back in the burning house in Srebrenica, cheeks grimy with ash.

He had yet to find a routine that made him feel clean enough.

It had become increasingly obvious to Hannibal that if he was presented with a patient that had his exact pathology, he would have no trouble making a diagnosis somewhere in the neighborhood of obsessive compulsion, which made feeling this way all the more frustrating. He logically understood the reasoning behind his recent upswing in soothing behavior, but that did little except make him feel exceptionally childish when he followed through with them.  

At least his skin and hair would benefit.

Most evenings he was able to convince himself that all this pageantry was worth it, that he enjoyed it ,even. But tonight was not one of those nights. Tonight, it all felt exceedingly silly.

He got started about an hour or so before bed by brushing his hair with a boar bristle brush and then getting in the shower.  He’d wash his hair with organic rosemary infused shampoo then condition with Sachajuan Thickening. As he let the conditioner sit, he would use an exfoliating scrub, then finish with the Le Labo Santal 33 Shower Gel.

 If he were at his townhouse in Baltimore, he’d have dried off with one of his fluffy Turkish cotton towels, but for tonight, he’d have to settle for one of the rough terry cloth towels in Will’s linen closet. To compensate, he’d apply a thick moisturizer.

Once he was pink and polished, he’d move onto skin care, which was a six step ordeal, which started with a La Roche-Posay facial cleanser and ended with a vitamin c serum massaged under his eyes just as Will entered the bedroom and flopped onto the bed with a loud moan.

Hannibal watched his still reflection for a moment before asking

“ Are we all settled out there? I heard Winston barking.”

Will laughed, the sound swallowed by the mattress. He turned his face to one side, looking back at Hannibal through the mirror.

“Yeah, yeah. The mighty Winston had to defend the house from a fearsome branch that fell on the driveway. It was scary there for a minute, but I think we’re gonna be okay.”

Hannibal chuckled and squeezed a dollop of almond and macadamia nut body balm onto his palm. He smoothed the rich cream over his forearms and legs, massing each limb to ensure retention.

The routine complete, he felt his breath catch just a little less heavily against his ribs.

“Well, thank heavens for the mighty Winston.”

Will rolled over on his back and sighed dramatically. Stretching his arms behind his head, he pulled his shirt off in one jerking motion. He threw it against the wall nearest the bathroom door without lifting from the mattress.

“Ugh I am so full.., like… dinner was so good. But I think I just need to lay here … for like 3 days before I can get up do anything else this week.”

Hannibal smiled to himself.

“Well, I am glad to know that you can still enjoy my cooking after.. . everything.”

A hand instinctively flying to his stomach, Will laughed sheepishly

“Yeah, I’ll admit it. It is extremely comforting to see the butcher’s label on the plastic. “

“I’d imagine….”

The whirr of the ceiling fan suddenly seemed loud in the silence.

Clearing his throat, Hannibal offered quickly

“I was surprised to see you home so early, I had hoped to everything ready by the time you arrived. Did something happen with Jack? Don’t tell me threw out your cadets mid-lecture again?”

Will groaned and sat up suddenly on the edge of the bed. He massaged his scalp slowly as he spoke

“ My cadets never showed. Sent out on training. But Jack was there.

 Ooohhh buddy was he there all right. And he had some very interesting Ripper theories he wanted to run past me. “

Hannibal scoffed, turning off the bathroom light and shutting the door behind him.

“How fun. Do tell, how close is the agent-in-charge to discovering the true identity of the Chesapeake Ripper? Should I start packing my bags now?”

Will looked up through his lashes to see Hannibal standing over him , between his knees, his hands resting on his shoulders. He rolled his eyes

“Ha ha. No, Jack suspects somebody in this house, but surprisingly its not you. It’s Abigial.”

Hannibal furrowed his brow, but said nothing.

“He thinks that at the very least she knows more about everything than she’s saying. He’s never trusted her, I don’t know why.”

Will leaned forward to press his forehead into Hannibal’s stomach; he moaned softly when he felt Hannibal’s long fingers begin to braid the soft curls near the back of his head.

Hannibal couldn’t understand how Will had never realized that Abigail had been her father’s accomplice. One look at her face had told him that; he had to imagine the profiler’s judgement had been clouded by his affection for the girl.

Miss Hobbs is a very lucky young lady indeed, he thought. He wondered how long she would try and keep up the illusion of family once she fell into the routine of college life. Would she visit for the first few weekends before coming up with some flimsy excuse to do Friday dinners via Zoom, then not at all?  

Hannibal hoped, at least for Will’s sake, the transition would be as painless as possible.

He sighed and released Will’s curls to pat him on the back

“Come on my love. We’ve got a full day tomorrow. Let’s get some rest.”

Will groaned in protest, then threw himself back onto the mattress. He lifted his hips off the bed to slide out of his jeans and tossed them on top of his shirt.

The little pile was fine, Hannibal told himself.  He breathed out evenly as he circled around to his side of the bed. He turned out the lamp and held up the covers so that both men could climb under the heavy blankets.

Hannibal curled onto his side and snuggled low under the sheets. He pulled Will’s arm around his shoulder and arched against him. Will chuckled in the dark behind him, then he threw a lazily threw a leg over Hannibal’s hip.

 The arrangement of spoons decided, Hannibal tilted his head back to nuzzle Will’s cheek. He breathed deeply, savoring the way the perfume of his moisturizer mixed with the heady smell of his skin.  

“I suppose I can check in with Jack during our meeting tomorrow. See what he took away from the conversation.”

He felt Will lift off the pillow behind him.

“You have a meeting with Jack tomorrow? Since when?”

“Since this afternoon. I was at the market when I got the call. Jack wants to discuss your mental state, believes your credibility to be ….questionable. It seems we’ll have to have at least one session in the office, just for appearances, but I think we’ll be able to use this evaluation and Jack’s heightened suspicion to our advantage.”

Will scoffed, more than a little offended

“Seriously? He’s asking you to make sure I haven’t cracked up just because I won’t go along with his obviously biased, some might even call them crack pot, theories? Wow…..”

He propped up on one elbow, too annoyed to lay down anymore

“If anything, he’s the one that needs to see a shrink! He’s been almost impossible to be around for the past month. Hell, the past ten years, I’ll bet!”

Hannibal shook with laughter

“As I said, my dear, I think we can use this to our advantage. I’ll see if I can’t convince your fearless leader that he would also benefit from speaking to a professional. At the very least I can inform him that I’ll be making the recommendation to his superiors if he doesn’t agree with my assessment. From what you’ve told me, it seems as if he’s trying to keep things with Bella close to the chest. He doesn’t strike me as a man who goes looking for pity. Or undue attention for that matter, so I think we’ll be able to come to an agreement on a once weekly schedule.”

“Remind me to stay on your good side.”

Hannibal grabbed Will’s fingers and laced them with his, closely examining the fine lines and scars on their hands.

“Oh pigeon, as long as you are by my side, good and bad mean nothing. “

He pressed his lips to the knuckle of each finger, speaking softly between each kiss.

“I can’t imagine……a world where…. You have done….anything….that I am unable to forgive.”

Chapter Text

Jack sat on the edge of the plush wingback, staring at his phone. He had sent Bella the article over an hour ago.

“Experimental Cancer Treatment Entering Human Trials. Researchers ‘Hopeful and Optimistic’”

He had forwarded the link along with a message: See? Things are looking up every day :)

She had read the message twelve minutes after he had sent it, but still, no response.

He sighed and stuffed the phone back into his pocket. He checked his watch, comparing it to the clock on the wall for accuracy. He tapped his foot and drummed his fingers against his knee. He hated waiting; he hated waiting on doctors even more.

Hannibal wasn’t late, but Jack had arrived a few minutes earlier than he had intended and was hoping the few minutes saved could be translated to time saved on the drive home.

But as he sat, ignored by his wife and waiting on a doctor, he felt his hope fading.

He was on his feet the second he heard the door to the inner office swing open. Out stepped a short, dark haired man who seemed to still be talking to Hannibal as he was being ushered out the door.

“- and I just think that you of all people could understand, Dr. Lecter.”

Hannibal nodded patiently, interjecting

“Of course Franklyn. But if you go to this opera by yourself, imagine just how much more we’ll have to talk about next week.”

He saw Jack standing in the middle of the lobby and gave him a grateful smile. He extended a hand in his direction and said to the man he had called Franklyn

“Now, Mr. Froideveaux, if you’ll excuse me. This man is here from the FBI and he requires two things: privacy and urgency. Please come in, Jack.”

Jack stepped around the man who was somehow still talking and followed Hannibal into his office. With a final wave to the man in the lobby, Hannibal shut the door and dropped his polite smile.

“My gratitude Jack. Mr. Froideveaux is a patient who seems to have a difficult time distinguishing between what is and is not an appropriate relationship with one’s therapist.”

He laughed softly

“I fear I am running out of polite ways to say no thank you.”

Jack chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck

“I know the feeling…..running out of polite ways to say something. It’s a problem a mutual friend of ours has. A friend I think it would be wise for you to check in on ……professionally.”

Hannibal couldn’t help but be entertained by Jack and his lack of subtly. He played along, nodding his head, sagely.

“If you are referring to Will Graham than a certain level of concern is useful at most times. But…. I was rather hoping you were attempting to be clever, and referring to yourself.”

Jack gave a confused little grin, but the ever-present anger was alive in his eyes; ready to pounce like a dog on  a chain.

“What do you mean, Doctor? I’m not the one who’s letting my personal life affect my work. Cloud my judgement.”

“You’d be excused for doing so, considering your circumstances. I’m surprised that Bureau hasn’t offered you leave.”

Jack waved his hand, as if the thought was offensive to him and started going through his emails as he spoke.  

“They have. I don’t need it. I need to be here, doing the work and making sure my soft-hearted detectives don’t throw away nearly a year’s worth of investigation all because they can’t handle a pair of big eyes. “

Hannibal sighed. He hadn’t wanted to take the hard road, but it seemed like Jack was leaving him no choice. He offered finally, softly

“I do agree, Will should be re-evaluated. It’s been quite some time since our last appointment, and I think a little maintenance might be in order. But… I am also going to be recommending the same thing for you.”

Jack looked up from his phone, brow furrowed. Before he could reply Hannibal continued, stepping around to sit in one of the leather chairs near the center of the room.

“I’ll be making this recommendation to you first. Directly. I do not feel the need to include your ranking agents, but I fear this may be the only way to get your attention.”

He held his hand out to the chair opposite him, a gesture that Jack should join him. He crossed to the chair, eyeing Hannibal suspiciously the entire time.

“I’d hate you to be placed on administrative leave while the personnel issues your staff have brought to light get sorted formally. I know at the best of times, federal insurance can be flighty, but at a time as ….precarious as this for Bella, I think keeping the status quo would be the best for all involved.”

Jack leaned back, crossing one ankle over a knee, doing his best to remain calm as he evaluated the corner he was being backed into.

“Okay Doctor Lecter, I see you. Tell me, do you have to be this underhanded with all your patients, or do some of them come to see you willingly?”

Hannibal smiled softly

“I think you’ll find our time together to be extremely useful.”

Jack pointed with a snap

“Speaking of useful…. What would be useful would be letting me know who in the BAU has a  problem with me. A problem so concerning that they would rather involve HR than talk to me, one-on-one?”

Hannibal steepled his fingers

“I find it interesting that your mind immediately flies to conflict instead of concern when I tell you that your colleagues have noted a change in your behavior. There have been several in the BAU who have noted that you seem much more on edge, much more distracted. The labor of checking in is infinitely easier than that of cleaning up after a blow up, I promise you this Jack.”

Jack threw his hands in the air, letting them fall dramatically against his leg

“I’m fine!”

He thought for a moment, then said

“Well, you know. Relatively fine. As fine as someone who’s going through this can be, I guess.”

“And what does fine look like for you? Walk me through a fine day in the life of Jack Crawford.”

Jack blew out a mouthful of air and thought for a few seconds

“I wake up, I kiss my wife, grab a cup of drive through coffee on the way into work. Spend a few hours looking at the very worst humanity has to offer before I drag myself back home to fall into my wife’s arms. Then I can forget it all long enough to get up and do it all again the next day.

And as long as I have that one moment where I can forget, I consider that a fine day.”

Jack stared at his hands, seemingly exhausted by the task of just saying it all out loud for the first time.

“But lately… when I go to her, she’s not there. And she hasn’t been for a long time. I thought it was just a phase, like all couples go through, especially when you’ve been together as long as Bella and I have. But then I asked her what I had done wrong, or what I had done wrong in a dream, because they don’t tell you this, but you are fully responsible for whatever that jackass in their dreams comes up with. And the damndest thing happened; she started crying.”

“She had been feeling sick for a while but hadn’t wanted to bother me with anything if it wasn’t serious. Then she got the test results back last week…. And it was serious. She just hadn’t found the right time to tell me, said she was waiting for me to have a good day at the office.”

“If anything, I think I’m doing better than most people would, given the circumstances.”

Hannibal nodded in agreement and brushed a piece of lint off the cuff of his suit jacket.

“Well, Jack, just because we are able to do a task doesn’t mean that it will not begin to eat on us after a time. Even the mighty redwood can fall victim to rust and sapsucker alike.

I want to make sure that you’re taking the time to care for yourself during all this. Sickness doesn’t just affect the patient, it can also spread to infect whoever sits at the bedside. “

Jack chuckled and shrugged his shoulders

“Yeah, I guess your right. I used to be the hardest sleeper, Bella used to say I could sleep through anything. Slept right through a tornado once, she teased me about that for years.

But now, if she even rolls over in bed, I’m awake. I just can’t relax anymore, it’s like my brain is always ready, always waiting, for something bad to happen.”

He looked up at Hannibal and gave him a tired smile

“You know, it’s almost funny. I spent all these years at the Bureau , gave all this time, because I thought at the end of it all I’d be able to spend my last few years travelling the world with my wife. Spending every day with my best friend, safe in the knowledge that I did some good in this world and now it was my turn to enjoy things. “

“But now, I’m more relaxed at the office than I am at home. I don’t know what it means to have a wife that’s sick, I don’t think I’m good at. I think I make her uncomfortable. “

Hannibal shrugged

“I think that can happen in any relationship: the expectation created in your mind about the role you fulfill, the function of the relationship itself. Any change to the dynamic can be unsettling.”

Very eager to change to subject, Jack interjected

“You give relationship advice now? How are things looking for the notoriously single Doctor Lecter? A little birdie told me that you had been seeing someone, but refused to elaborate beyond that. “

Hannibal huffed. He had his suspicions that the little bird’s name was Alana Bloom but had to remind himself not to start flipping through his recipe book. She hadn’t revealed anything more, for that, he supposed he should be grateful.

He stretched a polite smile into the human suit and replied

“ Your avian friend is correct. I do have a current romantic partner.”

Jack laughed

“’Romantic partner’ ?? I thought you Europeans were supposed to be passionate? You sound like you’re talking about the little old lady who shares the plot at your co-op.”

“You forget Jack, not all of us got to focus on the humanities. Some of us were working in the fields.”

Jack cocked his head and studied Hannibal for a moment before shaking his head and laughing

“Now, that’s one thing I don’t think I’ll ever be able to imagine. “

He continued laughing as he stood, brushing off his pant legs.

“Well, Hannibal. You got me, have your girl call my office to set up some appointments, and I ‘ll show up. Hell, maybe it’ll be good for me. “

He held out a hand to Hannibal to shake

“At the very least, keep me posted about how things go with our nervous friend.”

He shook Jack’s hand slowly,

“Of course, Jack. And I look forward to meeting with you as well. Like I said I think it will be good for you.”

With a nod and a smile, Jack was gone, the door bouncing off the frame as he left. Hannibal sat alone in the office, the ticking of the grandfather clock the only sound.

He placed a finger to his lips as he thought

He had told Will that he wasn’t going to kill anyone else, but that was really all they had discussed. He had made no other promises when it came to his other methods of keeping himself entertained.

Chapter Text

Every moment spent away from Will and the drafty little house and Wolf Trap felt like a moment wasted for Hannibal. He locked the door to his office at the end of a long day, exhausted from hours spent bound tightly into his people suit. He made his way quickly down the front steps, skipping the last one to walk hurriedly to his car in long-legged strides.

As much as he wished he could fly from Baltimore to the comfort of his lover’s arms, he would be delayed by one final errand.

He had someone he needed to collect from the city first.

He drove down familiar streets; he knew his route like the back of his hand. Once he had parked behind the house, he made his way through a back door, slipping out of his shoes before he padded across the polished wood floors. He already knew the layout of the townhouse with such confidence that he could have made his way around blindfolded.

The sun was beginning to set, casting shadows through the wrought iron front gate in the front garden. Hannibal knew that his prey would already be asleep, no doubt curled up on the sofa, not a clue in the world that he was coming for her.

When he stepped onto the padded rug in the living room, he heard movement on the other side of the room and knew that he was been correct. There she was, tucked under a pashmina, oblivious to the world around her. A smile played on his lips as he moved in closer.

He was close enough to touch her now, and she still hadn’t stirred from sleep. Only when he knelt in front of the sofa and pressed his palm to her cheek, scratching her gently under the chin did she stir; her eyes widened, registering the man in front of her.

Then the cat meowed loudly, as if scolding her roommate for staying away so long.

Hannibal laughed softly, brushing back her ears as she butted against his hand. 

“Hello there, Habibi. My apologies for arriving later than I had promised. I had a rather last-minute meeting with Jack Crawford that was indirectly to blame, I suppose. But in any case, my deepest regrets are yours. Could you be persuaded to forgive me if I were to tell you that I’ve come to bring you to Will’s house?”

The cat gave a scratchy wail punctuated with another head butt, as if she understood what was being asked of her.

“Well, then. Let’s get you in your carrier and on our way.”

He smoothed the frazzled fur on her cheek and rose to fetch Bibi’s wicker basket carrier. After a few moments both he and the chatty feline were on the road headed for Wolf Trap.

As a compromise to allow the recovering feral to still feel as if she had space to roam, Hannibal would give Bibi run of the townhouse for at least three days out of the week. But weekends were spent as a family, with every member of the Graham-Lecter-Hobbs under one roof. She had acclimated to the pack rather quickly, seeming to designate herself the new leader and receiving little resistance from Winston.

After a few moments of pouty meows bemoaning her poor fortune of being confined to a carrier, she settled into a tight spiral and slept until she felt the rumble of the tires shifting from paved road to the gravel of the driveway. Only then did she resume her chorus of lamentation.

She was freed from her wicker prison as soon as they stepped inside the house, but it wasn’t a moment too soon. She ran to Abigail, yowling plaintively as if she were detailing every injustice she had suffered in hopes of eliciting a few sympathetic snuggles.  Only once she was buried deep in her lap did she begin to purr, eyes drifting sleepily closed.

Hannibal appraised the scene as he removed his scarf to hang on the rack. Abigail, now plus one contentedly thrumming cat, sat on the rug, thick manilla packets and glossy catalogs spread out in front of her.  The room was dark, dimly lit by a side table lamp, a crackling fire and the soft glow of the television.

He couldn’t help but chuckle when his eyes landed on Will.

He had fallen asleep with his glasses on, and now that he had slumped down low into one of the plush back cushions of the sofa, they were pushed up at an angle, one leg hovering off his ear. A legal pad filled with cramped scrawl dangled from one hand, the corner bending where it touched the ground. Two stacks of file folders occupied the seat beside him, one falling over onto Will’s feet. An empty whiskey tumbler sat on cushion beside the files.

“He offered to help with these applications, said he had some work of his own and wanted to keep me company.  About 30 minutes after we got started, I heard him snoring. “

Hannibal laughed softly as he settled onto the arm of the sofa nearest Will, reaching over to twist one of his dark curls idly.  He nodded towards the special investigator’s nearly unreadable notes.

“Poor fellow doesn’t seem to know when he should abandon the grindstone for the pillow. Hopefully he was of some use to you before he exhausted himself.”

She sighed as she started gathering up the assorted brochures from the rug, earning a disappointed little grumble from Bibi.

“He tried his best, but there’s really only so much he can do. It’s an unforeseen side effect of suddenly becoming a family of one: financial aid applications become so much more difficult.”

Hannibal frowned

“I can assist you with your tuition, should you be accepted to university.”

Abigail’s eyes widened slightly, and she shook her head

“Oh god, I could never ask you to do that. You and Will have already done too much.”

She laughed sardonically and added,

“Besides, there’s grants for kids who were victims of violent crimes, there’s gotta be at least one for kids whose parents did the crimes, right? It’s not like it gives us an unfair advantage.”

Hannibal shook his head, then said softly

“God layeth up man’s iniquity for his children, I believe it’s said.”

He sighed, then added

“Whatever your decision, I hope you know that I am here, for whatever occupation you may find me most useful fulfilling.”

Abigail smiled, a curious mix of sadness and apprehension in her eyes.

Scooping Bibi into her arms and balancing the sleeping cat against the stack of financial aid packets, she stood and pointed towards Will with her elbow

“I was able to get him to eat a little bit, but he said he was going to wait on you. Make sure he actually eats a full meal today. He seemed a little bit off when he came in from running errands.”

Hannibal furrowed his brow and looked down at the sleeping man for any obvious causes of distress. He looked back up to Abigail and nodded.

“I’ll be sure to keep a close eye on our friend. Are you off to bed?”

She nodded and gestured to the cat draped in her arms

“Yeah. Cool if I kidnap Bibi?”

Hannibal waved a hand

“Go, take the little traitor with you. I’m sure she has many more terrible misdeeds of mine to inform you of.”

Abigail laughed and waved back, using Bibi’s paw and headed down the hallway to the guest room. Two of the smaller dogs followed close behind them.

 Hannibal closed his eyes and listened for two sounds; the snap of the switch on her bedside lamp and the click of her door lock.  Once he heard both he was able to fully turn his attention to Will. He studied the sleeping man, allowing him a few more moments of rest.

Hannibal knew he was tired; he had felt him tossing and turning in his sleep the past few nights.  He hoped it was nothing more than fretfulness caused by the coming trip or the general sort of daily anxiety he seemed to suffer from now that Abigail had come into their lives.

He stroked Will’s cheek with the back of his fingers; he gave a soft moan and furrowed his brow but didn’t open his eyes.  He leaned down to kiss the sleeping man’s cheek and murmur in his ear

“I’m home,my love.”

The sound of his voice stirred him, Will rubbed his face on the couch cushion and groaned faintly.

Legal pad falling fully to the ground, Will brought his hand to his face to rub the bridge of his nose.  He breathed deeply and coughed to clear his throat, blinking hard to focus on the man in front of him.

“Hey *cough* hey babe. What time is it?”

Hannibal tugged a sleeve back to check his watch

“Around 7:50. There was a bit of traffic on my way home and of course I had to go rescue the princess.””

Will gave a sleepy laugh

“Let me guess, she’s already in Abigail’s bed.”

Hannibal laughed, his hand drifting down from Will’s curls to trace circles into his back

“You are as wise as you are beautiful, pigeon.”

A beat, then Hannibal asked, his voice soft.

“Before she left with Her Royal Highness, Abigail mentioned that you seemed…..preoccupied when you arrived home. Are you alright?”

Will straightened up, straightening his glasses and frowning

“Yeah….well no. I mean…..mostly? I had a bit if a weird afternoon, and I think it kind of wiped me out.

“Tell me.”

Will sighed and scooted towards Hannibal to lay his face on his knee. He groaned

“It’s honestly so embarrassing, I thought I was doing a better job of playing cool. “

He sighed again,

“I stopped by the pet supply to get shampoo for the dogs. While I was looking around, one of the employees had to mop up an accident. The smell of lemon cleaner hit me in the face and I was back in that kitchen in Kentucky, covered in Alan’s blood. Next thing I knew I was in the bathroom scrubbing my hands. I don’t know how long I was there, but my hands were raw and I was panting like I had run a marathon. Thank god it was a single stall bathroom.”

He said it all quickly, as if it was a casual story, but Hannibal knew how it pained him to admit to what he considered to be a moment of weakness.

He leaned down to grab one of Will’s hands and pressed a kiss against its damaged knuckles.

“Your mind is attempting to protect you, creating these gaps in your memory to allow you escape from whatever is triggering a negative response. Unfortunately, it is the same mind that also creates the need to engage in repetitive behavior to ease the anxiety caused by a lack of control. “

He turned his hand over and traced the lines on his palm

“There’s no need for shame, Will. While your mind is an amazing thing, we must remember that it is still human. “

Will sat up and turned to look up at Hannibal. He looked away again before speaking

“I just- I just feel so stuck. Then I see you and Abigail, and you both seem to have such an easy time compartmentalizing it all. And I want to do that, I don’t want to blow this chance we have.”

Hannibal smoothed Will’s bangs back off his forehead

“Well, my dear, you and I experience empathy on opposite ends of the spectrum; you, overabundance and I, a shortage.”

“And also, you must remember, pigeon, you’ve killed two men in less than a year; both quite violently, might I add. That is enough to unsettle the foundations of even the most stable man; especially when this is the first time playing the killer outside the theater of your imagination.”

Hannibal began unbuttoning his cuffs to roll up his sleeves, tilting his head thoughtfully

“ I suppose having a closer relationship to death has allowed Abigail and I to view things through a more detached lens, be less affected. “

He leaned to kiss Will on the head and murmur into his hair

“Give it time , my dear. Be patient with yourself, allow yourself the same grace that you bestow so willingly upon those you love.”

He reached down to grab Will’s chin, angling his face upward to decorate his jawline with kisses.  A soft whine escaped his lips, and he reached for Hannibal. Once he had a handful of his shirt , he pulled him down onto the sofa, on top of him.

 Hannibal gave a little cry as he fell but righted himself at the last moment; he landed with an elbow on either side of Will and a knee between his legs. He tangled one hand in his curls and pulled his head to one side, teeth stamping fresh marks into his neck.

Will twisted his shirt in his fists and humped his leg, the mere taste of pain and pleasure almost maddening when he knew what was to come.

He needed Hannibal now; he couldn’t wait even a second longer.

He patted Hannibal’s arm, swallowing thickly

“Come on, let’s go to the bedroom.”

Chapter Text

In the bedroom, a lamp with a delicate stained-glass shade sat on a battered bookcase, its half-scraped Goodwill sticker still visible on its top shelf. Hannibal hadn’t officially moved in; he still had his townhouse in Baltimore. But one day the lamp had appeared, and Will hadn’t objected.

Much like every other area of their lives, the men had begun to bleed together, influencing the other subtly; whether they noticed or not was debatable.

The lamp rattled precariously when they tumbled into the room, hands tearing at each other’s clothes.

Will pushed Hannibal backward onto the bed and started to unfasten his suit pants. He knelt and kissed the inside of Hannibal’s thigh as he worked, arousal already pooling between his legs at the thought of gagging on his cock; his mouth watered at the sight of it, straining against the charcoal material of his pants.

He tugged Hannibal’s pants down, his cock springing free of his boxers with a salacious bounce. He bit his lip to stifle a gasp and looked up at Hannibal through his lashes.

He was watching Will, propped up on his elbows, a smirk playing across his lips. A few strands of ashy hair had fallen over his forehead and the top three buttons of his oxford were undone, revealing the rosy red patches that had been sucked into his skin. His eyes were focused and intense, but his fingers fidgeted, drumming restlessly against the mattress; it was as if he was trying just as hard as Will was not to eat the other man alive.

  Seeing Hannibal like this, frantic, hungry and desperately trying to stay in control, was too much for Will. His mouth flew to his cock, inhaling it fully to the hilt, his nose smashing into Hannibal’s stomach.  He gagged, tears stinging the corners of his eyes, but he continued bobbing, his hand sliding in along with his mouth, working the entire length of his shaft.

Tilting his cock back slightly, Will dragged his tongue along the large vein that snaked across its bottom and settled at the sensitive skin near the tip, suckling gently.

A hiss escaped Hannibal’s lips, and he laced his fingers into his lover’s curls.

“Pigeon, your mouth is a revelation.”  

His hips lifted off the mattress, his body searching for even more of him.

Slipping off the head of his cock with a soft pop, Will’s mouth found Hannibal’s balls. His hand, lubed with thick saliva, continued pumping his length as he ran his tongue along the seam of his ballsack. He hummed against the skin as he sucked a ball into his mouth, rolling it against his tongue.

Hannibal moaned softly, a hand drifting from Will’s curls to cup his cheek. Pressure sat low in his abdomen; it snuggled tighter against his muscles with every stroke of Will’s hand, every flick of his tongue. He was going to cum, soon and spectacularly.

But there was something else he wanted first

“W-h-wait, Will.”

He untwisted a hand from Will’s hair to lay it between his shoulders, tapping his back with the fingertips. The younger man’s focus turned to him, blue eyes snapping up to look into his. His hand stopped moving, but he didn’t take his mouth off Hannibal’s balls; This made focusing on his point a bit more difficult. He swallowed hard and panted out

 “I want you inside me when I cum for you.”

A gleam sparked in Will’s eye and he nodded; he spit out Hannibal’s ballsack as gracefully as possible and hurried to the bedside table. Will grinned as he collected a glass dildo and lube from the bottom drawer.

Watching Hannibal completely lose himself to his own pleasure brought Will joy for a variety of reasons, the principal of which was pride. Knowing that he alone could take a man who was composed enough to get away with literal murder and reduce him to a whimpering heap did something intriguing to his confidence, as well as his pussy.

He was dripping wet when he climbed onto the bed, laying the toy down beside Hannibal’s leg. He slid two fingers into Hannibal’s mouth, the suction of the older man’s mouth making his head spin. He snuggled against his side and kissed him gently as his fingers drifted down towards the tight ring of muscle in his ass.

Hannibal whined softly into his mouth, arching his back to give Will better access to his hole. He had never allowed himself to be this vulnerable with any other lover, had not given himself completely in this way to anyone before Will. But now, he craved it.

The press of Will’s fingers, the drawl of his voice rasping encouragement, the coolness of the heavy glass; all actors served to guarantee that his orgasm would be deep and satisfying.  

Will traced his asshole, painting it with saliva and murmured against his lips

“Okay baby, are you ready?”

Hannibal nodded, kissing him hard.

Will’s finger slipped inside him, then another. They spread and flexed against his walls, making his breath hitch. When the third finger entered him, he moaned lowly, rocking against the digits. He nuzzled into the sweat damp skin of Will’s neck, running his tongue up to his jaw.

 The taste of him was a rich wine, and Hannibal was Dionysus.

Will chuckled and placed a kiss on his forehead

“Are you ready to cum for me?”

Hannibal hummed his answer into Will’s neck, punctuating it with his teeth.

Will flexed his fingers, dragging them in and out slowly, grinning as he heard Hannibal’s breathing quicken into an irregular shudder.

“I need you to fill my throat and then I need a hot shower. Wanna join me?”

Hannibal swallowed hard

“My dear, I would travel to the ends of the earth, as long as your hand is in mine.”

 He carefully removed his fingers, drawing a soft whine from Hannibal. He scooted back on the mattress to lean against the headboard, patting his leg as an invitation. Hannibal crawled to lay on his lap, wrapping his arms around his waist to hug him tightly.  

Popping the cap off the lube, Will squirted a puddle into his palm and greased the dildo liberally; he wiped what remained on his hand between Hannibal’s ass cheeks. He stroked his lover’s hair off his forehead and placed a soft kiss between his brows.

“Ready, love?”

Hannibal beamed up at him; there was nowhere else on earth he would rather be than Will Graham’s lap.

“Ready, love.”

This was all he had ever wanted, even if he had refused to admit it to himself. He wanted to be loved, to be cared for, doted on. He wanted safety to let his guard down, to be vulnerable with the only person who he knew he could trust.

And he wanted Will to have all of it, even the parts of himself that he hated, that he feared.

Hannibal was in control in every aspect of his life; he needed to be. After what he experienced as a boy, he had to be the one with his hand on the rudder, no matter what the cost. He had even killed before to maintain his agency, his freedom; what concern of it was his if a few head of livestock had to be culled, if it meant that his neck would never again feel the yoke of subservience?

But Will was different

Hannibal would cross a desert of glass if his pigeon asked him to, only just to see his smile; The fact that Will would never ask in the first place made Hannibal want to prove to him that he was worth the trouble all the more so. He was not accustomed to men like Hannibal prostrating at his feet, let alone caring for him.  He had not been offered a friendly hand in years, something Hannibal noticed within five minutes of meeting the special investigator.

So he had set out to change that.

Hannibal loved Will more than he thought had been possible, and Will loved him, of that much he was certain. Will knew him, who he really was, and still decided to love him. Hannibal wanted nothing more than to worship at his feet for as long as he would be allowed.  His new god was so strong and beautiful, he would happily sing his praises for the rest of his life; a lover’s aria hummed against his cheek as they danced in the kitchen, or a soft moan of praise in his ear were all hymns of Hannibal’s new faith.  

Like all gods, this one had required a sacrifice. But unlike the others, he had not asked for a bound virgin or a firstborn child. Hannibal’s god had asked for the one thing most precious to him: control.

Not directly of course, Will was not the type of man to require others to feel small in order for him to feel big. He had had only one request, asked of Hannibal the day they found Dr. Monrale dead on the driveway.

They were laying, side by side, on the Persian rug in the sitting room, the only noise the ticking of the clock and their panting inhalations as they tried to steady their breathing. Hannibal had his eyes closed, tear tracks drying on his cheeks, when he heard Will swallow hard then say in a voice just barely above a whisper

“I love you ……so much. Fuck. But you have promise me…… you have to promise me that you’ll stop.”

He opened his eyes and saw Will had started to cry, tears streaming down his temples back into his curls as he stared up at the ceiling

Even though they still shone with the sweat of their lovemaking, Hannibal felt that it would be extremely disrespectful to touch him in this moment. Will had every right to be angry and scared; he had been hurt, mentally and physically. The fact that they were lying together after everything that he had been put through was nothing short of miraculous; Hannibal intended to do whatever was needed to make him feel like he was safe with him.

He would stop breathing if his beloved had asked him to, if only to see his smile as the darkness blotted his vision out.

Will drew in a shuddery breath and continued

“And the fucked up thing about it all is, I don’t care that you killed those people. I couldn’t be asked to give a shit about that asshole in the shed, and I can't make myself feel bad about Alan being dead if I tried. Hell, having someone kidnap your worst nightmare and give him to you on a silver platter is almost romantic if you squint at it.

But I care that you lied to me, Hannibal. I care very fucking much. “

He turned to look at him finally, his eyes shimmering with tears and anger

“If whatever we are is going to survive outside of this afternoon, it’s not just us we have to think about anymore. There’s Abigail now. We have to be a hundred percent sure that we aren’t going to offer her second chance just to have the floor fall out from under her because you got busted for eating a meter maid. I can’t do that to her, she deserves so much better. I cant-“

“Then the Ripper is no more. “

Will opened his mouth to keep talking but then realized what Hannibal had said. He fell silent, his brow furrowing. Hannibal rolled on his side to face him fully,

“As I have told you Will, your peace brings me a comfort I did not believe existed for me in this life. If there is even a seed of fear in your heart that my actions may cause you or Abigail harm, directly or indirectly, then I have no desire to cultivate it. The falsehoods I provided you in the past were all in service of concealing The Ripper’s activities. If there is no Ripper, then the need for mendacity has been eliminated.”

Will’s expression softened and fresh tears sprang to his eyes. The change giving Hannibal the courage to reach out to him, he brushed a tear off his cheek and said

“You are all that matters, my love.”

He leaned over Will, kissing him softly on the lips. He relaxed into him; Will turned and threw a leg over his hip, pulling himself even closer.

As he held the man he thought was lost to him forever, Hannibal realized for the first time that submission didn’t always have to hurt. Not when the hand that you bow to lifts your chin to turn your face towards the sun. 

In the past two months, he had felt the glow of domesticity warming his skin. Without death and deception to distract him, he focused all his time and energy on Will and their lives together. He was determined to make his pigeon happy, to make him feel safe. To make him realize that Hannibal was more than accommodating when it came to letting him take the reins.

All he really wanted was to be the center of Will’s world: the man had already become Hannibal’s entire universe.

And as he lay there on his lap, cock painfully hard in anticipation of the ass fucking he was about to receive, Hannibal knew that in this moment, he was Will’s. Wholly and completely his, inside their fresh understanding and appreciation of each other.

The cool tip of the dildo now pressed against Hannibal’s wet hole, bringing him back to earth.

“Breathe for me, baby.” Will drawled as he slowly pushed inside him. Hannibal gave a sharp intake of breath that he blew out through pursed lips, squeezing his lover’s waist in a tight hug.

The head slipped into his ass with ease; Will had done a thorough job in stretching him. He started to inch the toy further into Hannibal, murmuring encouragement and decorating his cheek with soft kisses. Only when Will began to slowly pump inside of him did Hannibal begin to speak.

“м-моја светлост, моја љубав. хвала, хвала, хвала”

Will had grown very fond of the Serbian language. Anytime he heard it, it meant that Hannibal’s mind was so completely consumed by how good he was making him feel, he had no mental faculties left to devote to English.  It was his second favorite sound, after the ones that Hannibal made right before he came.

When pulled the dildo out to relube, Hannibal felt tears burning the corners of his eyes. The sudden emptiness he felt was utterly heartbreaking. Will kissed away the tear and whispered into his skin as the smooth glass reentered his hole.

“Don’t worry, babe. I’m right here.”

A soft gasp exhaled into a low groan, Hannibal could feel pleasure pulsing through him with each stroke. His eyes were screwed shut and he rocked against the dildo as it buffeted against his prostate. When Will grabbed his cock, he cried out; first surprise, then rapture. The lube-slick hand glided, deliciously slow down his length.  He could feel an intense, familiar pressure mounting behind his pubic bone, like a shaken bottle of Blanc de Noir, and the muscles of his back tightened, warning of a devasting orgasm.

“Ох... Же.. љубави моја, свршићу. И -твоја уста, молим те”

He untwined his arms from Will’s waist and angled his hips slightly upward; he may not have understood his words, but he knew what Hannibal’s body was begging for. The younger man pressed the tip of the dildo into his prostate and slipped his mouth over the head of his weeping cock. A soft sob escaped Hannibal, and he pumped desperately into Will’s mouth.

One final stroke of Will’s tongue and he fell apart at the seams. His back arched, then he buried his length in Will’s mouth and came, filling his throat with hot spend. Every muscle vibrated with pleasure; even his jaw rattled softly against his tongue as he cried out, unable to form words of any language.

He melted into Will’s lap, boneless and euphoric, fresh tears streaming down his cheeks. He curled onto his side and wrapped back around his waist, pressing urgent kisses into his stomach.

“Oh, thank you baby.” Will cooed as slowly slipped the dildo out of Hannibal’s ass. He stroked his hair softly and placed a kiss on his forehead.

“Did I make you feel good?”

Hannibal laughed, sounding delirious. He cleared his throat and did his best to speak, his voice trembling slightly

“Good? My dear, I’m not sure there are words in any language to describe how you make me feel.”

Chapter Text

Steam billowed over the top of the shower curtain, perfuming the air with a mixture of both men’s body washes, the wood smoke of Hannibal’s Santal 33 blending curiously with the musk of Will’s Old Spice.  Inside the shower, neither man seemed to notice the incongruous aroma, distracted by the intricate dance of showering with another person.

The en suite bathroom shower was double the size of the hallway bathroom, but it had still taken a few attempts before they had been able to figure out how to avoid shoving the other out onto the bathroom floor or catching an elbow in the ribs.  Now that they had perfected their routine, the ease with which their bodies moved around and against each other’s rivalled that of a seasoned ballet troop.

“You know, Will, I shudder to imagine what kinds of drug store solutions you’ve used on these beautiful curls.“

Hannibal said, half-joking, as he massaged a thick conditioner into Will’s hair.

As he cradled the back of his head, suds running down his arms, Hannibal noted that Will’s hair had grown at least an inch and a half since he had first met the special investigator.  It reached his shoulders now; when he was dressed, his wild curls tumbled over his shirt collars, lending an air of disorder to even the most formal of attire.

He playfully tugged his hair to place a soft kiss on his forehead.

“Let that sit for a few moments, love. Your hair has gotten quite long, and it needed a good detangling.”

Will scoffed, and the older man was perplexed

“And what. Mr. Graham, do you find so entertaining? Would you care to inform me?”

Will shook his head and pushed his soggy bangs back off his forehead. He leaned back against Hannibal’s chest.

“It’s just funny to me, when I was younger, I hated having long hair. Like, the second I was able, I chopped it to my chin with some kitchen shears.”

Hannibal furrowed his brow. He patted Will’s hip and pointed to his body wash as he spoke

“What do you mean, as soon as you were able? Were you prevented from making decisions about your own appearance?”

Will shifted and wiped his eyes, seeming to realize that he had revealed himself without meaning to. He grabbed the body wash and passed it back to Hannibal, trying to sound casual

“ Yeah, when I was a kid, they had me and my sister keep our hair long. That whole ‘crowning glory’ shtick. But it drove me nuts. And it wasn’t even just having to keep it long… it was having no control in yet another area of my life. Once I was able to have some amount of say, you couldn’t pay me to keep it long.”

He reached up to run his hand through his soggy locks, pulling a curl out straight to appraise its length.

“Now look at me. Mom would be proud.”

He dropped the curl then he seemed to realize what he had said and laughed.

“Well, maybe not…”

A beat, then he followed up in a softer tone

“I did love it when she would brush my hair, though. She was so gentle, it always put me right to sleep.”

Silence, filled by the steady thrum of water against the shower tiles, then Will spoke again,

“Sorry, that was a silly thing to think about. I don’t know why I brought it up…”

Hannibal shifted around him to stand with his back to the water. He tilted his head back to rinse his hair, looking down at Will through a half-closed eye.

“Why would you apologize when you've done nothing wrong?”

He shook his head, suds splatting softly against the shower floor

“You have no idea how much it pleases me to hear that you can recall even a moment of warmth from your childhood. So often you are plagued by the harm that your family did you, I am glad to know that you were shown some amount of appreciation, no matter how small”

He squeezed the remaining water from the ends of his hair, then hands on Will’s shoulders, spun him in front of the water. He hummed as he ran his fingers through the dark curls. Once he found nothing but clean, damp hair, he planted a kiss on Will’s crown

“If you find it to be too troublesome, I can cut your hair. “

Will shook his head as he leaned down to turn off the water

“I don’t actually mind it long, now that I think about it.”

Hannibal stepped out onto the bathmat and grabbed both towels off the rack; he handed one back to Will before he began toweling himself off.  The vent fan buzzed in the silence as the men dried their skin and tousled their hair.

Will was bent over, drying off a leg when he heard Hannibal say

“Don’t forget my love, we have Alana coming over for dinner on Thursday. “

He hung limply and groaned

“Ughhhhhh, I hate this.”

Hannibal laughed softly

“Well, dear, she is your friend.”

Will wrapped his towel around his waist, shaking his head

“I know, I know, I know. I hate it but I don’t , you know? Social stuff has always been so hard for me.”

Grabbing a brush from the counter, he began working through his wet curls as he spoke

“I always feel like I’m playing catch up the entire time, and then once everyone goes home, I spend the next hour wondering what I might have said wrong and promising that I’ll never do the whole "talking to people" thing again.”

He thought for a few seconds as he tugged on a particularly stubborn knot and laughed

“Honestly, the only time I ever enjoyed being social was in college, but I think that was mostly because I hadn’t realized I was an alcoholic yet. It’s really easy to feel like you’re fitting in when you can’t remember any of the stuff you said the night before. I don’t know how you have the patience for all those parties you throw. ”

Hannibal shook his head, scoffing. He squeezed a small puddle of moisturizer into his palm and began working it into his cheeks.

“Perhaps I’ve been entertaining for so long, it’s become second nature for me. Which is all for the better, I suppose. Wearing the costume of a normal man does make it easier to forge connections, blend into the crowd. Appear like a regular citizen.”

Will tossed a sideways glance at him

“And you thought that the fish aspics were going to help with the whole ‘looking normal’ bit?”

Hannibal stopped massaging his cheeks to stare daggers at him before softening

“Fair enough…” 

Suddenly, a grin tugged playfully on the corner of his lips

“But did you ever consider that the aspics played an important role in distracting my guests from the fact that they were also being served broiled senator?”

Will snorted

“I mean… fair enough..”

He laughed and shook his head, pressing the pump on a bottle of cocoa butter and rubbing it into his elbows.

Smoothing an eyebrow with his middle finger and finding a single hair out of place, Hannibal grabbed a pair of tweezers from the medicine cabinet. Leaning in close to the mirror, he grabbed the stray hair and pulled sharply.

“Unfortunately, having Alana over is a necessary evil; with Abigail’s trip coming up we need someone to watch the dogs, and I guess she’s earned her chance to come over and gawk”

“I guess we do kinda owe her that much; she’s been pretty good about keeping our business to herself.” Will mumbled through a mouthful of toothpaste

Hannibal turned to lean against the counter, steepling his fingers

“Well, I’m not so sure we can count her as a paragon of discretion just yet. She may not have told him who my partner is, but I’m quite certain she did inform Jack Crawford that I am no longer taking names for my dance card.”

Will spit and wiped his chin with his forearm, a wicked gleam in his eye

“Oh, is that right? You had a dance card, and before me you were just cutting a rug all over town?”

Hannibal chuckled, a low rumble in his chest

“Of course, my dear. I was a coveted guest at many a governor’s ball. Have I not shown you my form?”

He extended his hand and bowed his head low; when he felt Will’s hand slide into his he looked up at him through his thick lashes and smiled softly.

He pulled the younger man into him and slowly began leading him around the bathroom in a modified waltz. The drip of the shower and the pap of their bare feet against the tiles were the accompaniment to Hannibal’s whisper soft singing.

“Quando me'n vo'

Quando me'n vo' soletta per la via,

la gente sosta e mira

e la bellezza mia tutta ricerca in me

da capo a piè ...”

Will tilted his head back to look up at him

“Okay, Serbian and Italian? Now you’re just showing off.”

Hannibal smiled down at him, dipping him gently

“But you’ve yet to see the most impressive thing this tongue can do, my pet.”

He leaned down and kissed him, his tongue parting his lips and drawing a soft moan of surprise from the younger man as he was backed into the counter. Will’s hands drifted up into his hair, knocking his ashy fringe down over his forehead.

Hannibal’s hands quickly shifted from their waltz position to grip Will’s ass, kneading the muscle desperately for a few moments before adjusting his grip to hoist Will onto the counter.  His cock was already beginning to stiffen, tenting his towel. He knelt in front of Will and began working his way under his towel, kissing his way up his inner thigh.

When his head ducked fully under the towel, Will leaned back against the mirror, pressing a fist to his lips to stifle a gasp. Fingers spread him as Hannibal’s tongue buried deep within him, stroking his walls slowly, deliberately. He braced himself against the counter and wrapped his legs around Hannibal’s back, bringing him in closer. Then with the swipe of a tongue over his clit, Will got even closer.

“Ohhhhhhh fffuck Hannibal….. fuck me! that feels so fucken good”

The words were hissed at the ceiling; his head was thrown back, eyes closed. All he could focus on, all he wanted to focus on, was between his legs. The wet squelch of Hannibal’s tongue in his hole was nearly enough to bring him to tears, not even considering what it felt like. But now that it had been worshipped, he needed his hole filled.

“Baby, I need you up here. I need you in me.”

He heard a chuckle from under his towel, and Hannibal rose to lean over him. He let his towel fall to the ground as he tugged Will’s open, fingers trailing slowly up and down his exposed thighs.

“Well, if you need it..”

He cupped Will’s cheek and kissed him softly before he murmured into his ear

“What kind of a monster would I be to deny you?”

Fingers dipped inside his dripping cunt. Then using Will’s slick to lube his length, Hannibal thrust inside him with a small groan. Will wrapped around him, heels digging into the backs of his legs as he pistoned inside him, nails digging into his hips. He nuzzled his face against the crook of his neck, head swimming from the smell of the older man’s skin cream and musky sweat.

Hannibal’s hand slapped loudly against the vanity mirror as he braced himself; the other hand was tangled in dark curls, pulling his head back slightly so that he could have better access to his neck. Teeth skated across the delicate skin that jumped with a jugular pulse; fresh blood that seemed quickened by the knowledge that a mouth so eager to taste it was nearby.

It was as if Will’s body knew what Hannibal’s was capable of, and instead of being afraid, was aroused by it. Inspired by this, the older man grinned and rolled his hips into his lover.

The cool glass of the mirror was the only thing keeping Will in the bathroom. He felt as if one more thrust could send him into space, he was on the very edge of his undoing. Then, as if he could read his mind, Hannibal husked into his cheek

“My love, are you going to let me fill you up and send you to bed?”

Will nodded furiously, leaning back to look him in the face.

“Yes, yes please fuck….”

Hannibal kissed his forehead and fucked into him, his breathing strangled and sweat beginning to bead on his upper lip. The hand in Will’s curls loosened and trailed down his chest to settle flatly against his sternum.  He could feel Will’s heart hammering against his ribs, its stuttery rhythm influencing his own pumping.

The tight squeeze of Will’s pussy and the soft whining moan that punctuated each thrust into him promised Hannibal that his second orgasm would be quickly extracted from him.

Condensation dripped down the mirror, fat drops rolling down the back of his hand, but Hannibal didn’t seem to notice, so lost was he in the experience of making love to Will Graham. Only when the fingernails that were parked in his hips began to rake slowly up to his back was he brought back to reality. Will’s breathing hitched in his chest; He was about to cum and Hannibal  wasn’t too far behind. He fucked into Will even faster, his balls lightly slapping against the countertop.

Will pressed his forehead to Hannibal’s shoulder and moaned lowly

“Fffffuuuck fuck me Hannibal…I’m – I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum. I’m gon-“

Words dissolved into a throaty groan as he came, slick pouring down Hannibal’s thighs as Will slumped against him. Hannibal chuckled softly and pressed a kiss into his  cheek before thrusting into him again with slow, deliberate strokes. He wanted to savor every inch of his lover, every slick fold and quiver. He pulled halfway out only to plunge back into the hilt, the sound of Will’s breath trembling into the hollow of his collarbone sending a chill up his spine despite the practically tropical environment of the post-shower bathroom.

He slammed his hips into Will’s, and on the final thrust he collapsed against him, his face buried in his hair when he came. He nuzzled against the damp curls, a sudden exhaustion beginning to consume him.

He brushed the curls off Will’s forehead to kiss his sweaty face, twisting a long strand around his fingers.  He examined the dark locks for a moment before sighing, half contentment, half exhaustion, and purring against Will’s cheek.

“Come with me, pigeon. I long for our bed.”

Once all the lights had been turned off, the dogs had been counted and the locks had been checked, they fell into bed. Hannibal lay there in the dark, awake and holding Will. The younger man had fallen asleep quickly, his soft breathing deepening into a raspy snore as he lay on his stomach, one arm thrown over Hannibal’s chest.

He adjusted slightly to pull an arm out from underneath Winston, eliciting a sleepy grumble from the big mutt, to run his fingers through Will’s hair.

He thought of Will’s mother and his own. While she was a flawed woman, he had never had to beg for her love or approval; these were gifts that had been freely given to him his entire childhood, while Will had only small moments of kindness to cling to. He wondered what Will’s mother might have thought of her son if she could see him now, or his boyfriend.

The reaction would not have been a kind one, he suspected.

But she was dead already, there was nothing he could do about her hatred. He supposed he could be grateful for the moments she had given Will; that no matter how poor a job she had done in raising him, no matter how unwell of a person she may have been, there was still something within her that had the ability to love, and she expressed that when she could.

Certainly, it was much less than any child deserves, but it seemed as if the universe’s favorite game to play with Will was to determine exactly how much neglect he could survive. Hannibal hummed with displeasure and smoothed his sleeping lover’s furrowed brow with a fingertip.  

Reacting to the touch, Will snuggled down further in his pillow, mumbling incoherently.

Hannibal kissed his fingertips and placed them against Will’s lips

“спавај добро, моја љубав” he whispered softly before closing his eyes. He fell asleep shortly after; his fingers still tangled in Will’s curls, he was comforted by the idea that his pigeon’s dreams were warmed by pleasant memories for once.

Memories of a mother’s love so infrequently given it made the mundane extraordinary and a brush gently tugging through his hair.

Chapter Text

Jack had lived a lifetime before he had met Bella. He had joined the Army at 17 and travelled the world because of it. He served in Desert Storm and watched the sun rise over Mt. Fuji. He had surmounted odds that seemed impossible, done things that would have shaken lesser men to their core, and he had done it all with a laugh and a smile.

Then he met her

And none of it mattered, because she hadn’t been there to see it.

He had been fearless in his pursuit of her. She was a beautiful woman, those Italian sailors hadn’t called her Bella for nothing, so Jack wasn’t the only man who was vying for her time. His competition were other officers with better backgrounds, better education and higher ranks.

 But she chose him.

He still wondered from time to time what her reason had been, even asked her once. She had just smiled and pressed a soft kiss into his palm before reopening her paperback and chuckling to herself.

Everything about her inspired him; her courage, her kindness; the way she was able to make everyone at the table feel welcome. They way she could take a $5 dress from a thrift shop and put every model in Milan to shame.

Bella

 His Bella, how he would never tire of calling her that.

She was a revelation to him in every sense of the word. She had taken a skinny, bright-eyed young boy and helped him become the strong, confident man he was today, simply through her love and encouragement.

  She brought out the best in him every day; made him want to be a better man, a better husband, even a better FBI agent. Hell, every single unsub he’d ever worked, from his first profile to the Ripper, had been pursued as passionately as they had all for the love of Bella Crawford.

She deserved a world that was as safe and beautiful as she was, and by god, he was going to make that a reality for her. He was more than happy to spend his days as a battering ram as long as he got to spend his nights within the softness of their love. Her arms were the single place on earth he allowed himself to be vulnerable, where he dared to imagine a future that demanded much less of him. A future that allowed for much more time with his wife, his best friend. One that provided the space for him to let go of all that he had witnessed during his time with the army and the FBI and live a life dedicated to one purpose: making his wife happy.

 But now, as he sat in bed with the woman who had given his life meaning, watching hers slowly and painfully drain away from her, Jack Crawford was scared.

He had been watching her carefully since he had arrived home; her brow held an uncharacteristic furrow as she greeted him. And once during dinner, he had heard a momentary change in her breathing; suddenly, she had given a small gasp and grabbed at her side. But after seeing him notice the movement, she dropped her hand and smiled at him, asking him about the traffic on his way home.

After a few hours, Bella seemed to realize that she was under increased scrutiny. She eyed him suspiciously when she saw him watching her in the bathroom mirror as she brushed her teeth; by the time she was settling into her pillows and slipping her bonnet over her curls, she could practically feel his eyes burning a hole in the side of her face. Finally, she turned to face him, frustration beginning to prickle at her skin.

“What is it, Jack?”

“Hm? What?”

Bella couldn’t help but roll her eyes

“Baby, I’ve had a long day, and I suspect you have too. Let’s cut the bullshit. You’ve been watching me like a hawk since you came through that door.”

Jack sighed and his lips pressed into a firm line. He started to speak but stopped himself, the only sound he managed was a small strangled one. He rubbed the palm of one hand with the thumb of the other for a few seconds, then said without looking up.

“You know it’s killing me that you won’t reconsider.”

He looked up at her, his eyes sad and tired

“Why Bella? Just give me one good reason you won’t even consider continuing the chemo?”

Frustration transformed into resignation.

She sighed

“Jack, we’ve been over this. I didn’t even want to go to the first appointment, but between you and my doctor, it felt like I was practically driven there at gunpoint. When it’s all said and done, it is my decision, Jack.”

Bella waved her hands like she was shooing away any further questions from him.  She grabbed her reading glasses and book off her nightstand and opened the beaten paperback to her marked page. She cleared her throat, adjusted her glasses and began reading in a not-so-subtle show of her disinterest with continuing their conversation.

The soft sadness of Jack’s eyes was gone now, suddenly replaced by fiery anger, as if the coals of a smoldering fire had been kicked with a steel toe boot, bringing the flames back to life.

“You’re being completely irrational and selfish Bella, that’s not like you.”

Her eyes widened slightly at his words but she calmly replaced the newspaper scrap that served to mark her place in the book, took her glasses off and turned slowly to fully face her husband again. She stared at him, silently, for a few moments, like she was looking for some sign as to why he thought that it had been a good idea to say what he had just said.

When it seemed that she was unable to locate it, she asked in an even tone.

“Excuse me, I’m going to have to ask you to repeat that. What in the hell did you just say to me, Jack Crawford?”

“I said you’re being selfish and irrational. You’re acting like a child Bella. The chemo can work, but only if you actually take the treatment.”

Bella narrowed her eyes, no longer worrying about looking calm.

“I’m being selfish? Me? I’m the person in this scenario who’s selfish? Wow….. okay, Jack.”

She pushed her glasses halfway down her nose to pinch its bridge

“Because you know what it feels like to me? It feels like you’re telling me I should have to suffer through the treatments and everything that goes with them , just because you think it’s what I’m supposed to do. Never mind everything that comes with it: the sickness, the hair loss, the pain. I’m just supposed to sit through all that with a smile because it’s what you want? Last time I checked, Jack, it’s still my body. It may be failing me, but it’s still mine.”

She blinked hard, and he wasn’t sure, but he thought he caught the shimmer of a tear near the corner of her eyes.

“I don’t want to waste whatever time we may have together in some clinic or stuck in the bed. I just want to live the life I have left and not be bothered.”

Exasperated, Jack threw a decorative pillow across the room. It slammed into the closet door and fell to the floor, the soft thud overshadowed by the sound of Jack’s booming voice

“Jesus Christ, Bella! You’re talking like you’re already dead! Can you at least pretend like you want there to be a light at the end of this tunnel? Or do you want me to go out back and dig a hole for you now?”

She studied him; her eyes wide, her face ashen. When she spoke, her voice was smaller, but there was no shake in it

“You’re being cruel….and it’s not fair. None of this is fair.”

Her words cut him to the bone. She was right, of course she was. Bella was always right. His bravado crumbled immediately; he had to fix it.

“Bella, you’ve got to listen to-“

She held up a hand to silence him

“Stop. Just stop, Jack.”

A cemetery stillness fell over the room.

Bella took a deep shuddery breath; her hand was at her side again.

“This isn’t a killer you can stop by working up profile and putting out a BOLO. It’s inoperable lung cancer. I want you to stop trying to fix things that you can’t. It’s gonna drive you crazy, my love.”

She grabbed his hand and squeezed it twice, a sad smile on her lips

“I’m scared too, you know? We’re on the same team. So, let’s not waste anymore time on arguments that go nowhere and treatments that might, at best, buy us a few months filled with nothing but heartache.”

Jack squeezed her hand back

“I wish I knew what to say to convince you to listen to me.”

Bella gave a small chuckle

“Baby, you’ve never been able to figure it out before. Why should this be any different?”

Jack laughed in spite of himself, and sighed wearily, leaning back against the headboard. He stared up at the ceiling for a few moments before replying

“I guess you’re right. But you can’t blame me for trying, can you?”

He rolled his head to the side to look at his wife. She shook her head

“Could I make one last attempt to persuade you to see someone?”

“Jack, I just told you, no doctors. I don’t-“

It was his turn to interrupt her

“No doctors. Well, no medical doctors. I think it might help you get some perspective on all this if you talked to someone. Like a therapist.”

Bella seemed stunned by the suggestion, and for half a second wasn’t entirely sure that it had been a serious one. Her tone was playful as she joked

“Okay, sure thing. How about this? I’ll go see a therapist when you do.”

“I already am. I have my first appointment with Doctor Lecter on Wednesday.”

She wasn’t sure what shocked her more, his initial request or his response.  

She sputtered out a reply

“That’s… I don’t know what to say, Jack. What made you decide to do this?”

There was no way in hell Jack was going to tell her the truth, so he said

“It seemed like a good idea. Something someone told me once about redwoods.”

Bella furrowed her brow with confusion

“I’m not sure I see the connection but…. Okay. I’ll see what I can set up. Maybe you’re right, maybe talking to a professional might be good. For both of us.”

She gently cupped Jack’s cheek and looked into his eyes

“I’m sorry for all of this. You know, I think the worst part of being sick has to be knowing that you’re ruining the lives of everyone around you simply by existing.”

Jack shook his head, suddenly very serious

“Bella, don’t you believe for even one second that your presence in my life has ever been anything but miraculous. I’m sorry I’m not good at this…….this cancer thing.”

“I’d hate to imagine the person who is” She replied solemnly.

Looking down into her big brown eyes, Jack was overwhelmed. She was still his Bella, just a bit weathered around the edges. It was as if he could see this thing eating away at her, slowly. The thought of her slipping through his fingers terrified him; he needed her close. Needed her to know that he still loved her, no matter what this disease did to her body or the peace of their marital bed.

“I love you,  Bella. I just want-“

She pressed a fingertip to his lips

“I know, baby.”

He pulled her in close and kissed her deeply, the minty smell of her lip balm making his nose tingle. The familiar pressure of her tongue as it massaged his drew a soft groan from deep within him. His hand drifted from her cheek to firmly grasp the back of her neck and  his free arm slid around the small of her back, his hand splaying against the skin under her silk pajama top.

She melted into his hands, her body twisting to conform to his as her fingers worked into the tight, salt and pepper curls at the back of his neck.

Their lips parted, and Jacks’s found the soft skin of her neck while a soft moan escaped hers.  He trailed kisses across her collar bone, worshiping every inch of her, as if his love could reclaim her from the cancer.

“Oh Jack….”  She breathed into his ear as she clung to him

In that moment, she wasn’t sick.

He wasn’t angry

And neither of them were scared.

They were just Jack and Bella.

Jack and his Bella

Chapter Text

“This feels silly, Hannibal.”

“It’s understandable. The last time we sat in these chairs, we had a much more shallow comprehension of the other. It can feel a bit farcical now that the…… situation has changed.”

Hannibal gestured to the office they were sitting in; The red-walled room that held so many of their early moments together felt almost foreign now, so long had been their absence from it.

Will leaned back in his leather wingback chair, a grin slowly stretching his lips

“A shallow comprehension…that’s one way of putting it.”

Hannibal crossed his ankles and extended his palm toward Will

“How would you choose to characterize things?”

“I would characterize things by saying that the last time we were in these chairs I didn’t know that you were feeding me people. Now I do.”

Hannibal gave a displeased little tut

“Let’s remember my dear, I’ve forgone that particular pastime.”

“Do you still think about it? Killing people, I mean. Do you miss it?”

“On occasion, yes. Yes, I do.”

The grandfather clock ticked in the corner, the only sound in the room for a few moments. Then Will spoke, a playful tone in his voice

“You said once that I’d come close to ending up in a soup. How did your fantasy of killing me play out?”

Hannibal stiffened slightly, the topic obviously not one he enjoyed.  He ran a hand through his hair and replied

“Fantasy isn’t the word I would use. I took no pleasure in the thought of killing you but there was a certain degree of realism with which I had to approach you. You were quite literally assigned to find me. Had you been less understanding, tried to deny me my freedom simply because you could not be made to comprehend the reasoning behind my actions, I suppose I would have had no choice but to extinguish your efforts.”

A curious warmth started to grow in Will’s stomach, which he suspected was the not the typical reaction to being told that your lover might have killed you if you had gotten in his way. A morbid sort of curiosity now demanded to be satisfied, along with the glowing embers of arousal.

“How would you have done it?”

Hannibal cocked his head and studied Will, intrigued as to the younger man’s motivations.

He thought for a moment then answered,

“I suppose I would have strangled you. That way, within the flailing, grasping arms we would have been afforded one last chance to hold each other. Or the very first, depending on when you discovered me.”

The thought of Hannibal’s hands closing around his neck, the weight of his body as it pinned him to the ground, his voice husking reassurances into his ear as the world slowly went dark: the warmth in Will’s stomach crept up to his face, fingers of red splayed up to his cheek bones and down his neck. He coughed and gave his head a little shake to help himself focus, but he couldn’t stop himself from asking.

“Would you have eaten me?”

The corner of Hannibal’s lips began to quirk with a grin as he answered, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the arms of the wingback.

“I would have devoured every piece of you that I was able.”

Will clicked his tongue with mock displeasure

“Oh! So, no dinner party for me? I don't get turned into some ridiculous centerpiece to impress your guests?"”

Hannibal shook his head,

“I wouldn’t dream of sharing a single mouthful of you.”

His eyes swept hungrily over his lover’s frame, and he gave a little hum before continuing

“And as you have done in all other areas of my life, I expect that once I had tasted you, all other meals would be ruined for me. I would have no choice but to starve.”

Will sank slightly lower in his chair, his knees parting a few inches in a motion he hoped Hannibal would notice.

“Did you ever fantasize about fucking me when I was your patient?”

Hannibal gave a small laugh and raised an eyebrow

“I must admit, my thoughts were not always those of a consummate professional……

You are a beautiful man and thoughts of you in my bed were much more pleasing than thoughts of you in my freezer. “

“And what would we do? In these thoughts you had?”

Hannibal ran his tongue along his lower lip

“My, you’re an awfully inquisitive boy today.”

Will rolled his eyes playfully

“Come on, Doctor. We’ve got enough time left in the session. Paint a picture for me. What did you imagine doing to me in this office?”

He let the words of his last sentence drag, his tongue wrapping around each of them to savor the delicious thought they conjured.

Hannibal loosened his wide-knotted tie and began rolling up the sleeves of his oxford as he spoke.

“I so often found myself mesmerized by your mouth. I wondered what the taste of you would do to me; If I would be rendered powerless by the ambrosia of your tongue or I would be able withstand stupefaction for long enough to sample your other …..offerings.”

“Your appointments were always at the end of the day, so we wouldn’t have had any interruptions to concern ourselves with. I’d have more than enough time to treat you the way you needed to be treated. “

“And how did I need to be treated? What did I need, Doctor?”

Hannibal’s eyes trailed up his body, stopping for a moment in his lap before his gaze locked with Will’s. His voice was low and husky

“You needed to be touched, desperately. Your lips were pleading to be bitten, neck crying out to be kissed; you were a very hungry man, whether you realized it or not. I wanted to be the one to sate that hunger, and in turn, satisfy my own desires. “

“And what did you desire from me?”

A pause; brown and blue eyes traded heat

“I wanted to feel the warmth of your mouth as it melted into mine; To hear your breathing quicken as my hands found purchase on your hips. I wanted to taste you as you cried out for relief that only I could provide. It was truly maddening some days, to sit here and listen to you speak about your work when my thoughts were dominated by the sounds I imagined you would make if I were to bend you over my desk”

Eyes still on Hannibal’s, Will let his hand drift lazily towards the zipper of his jeans. He was already so wet; his hand slipped under his waistband and his fingers found his slick folds, drawing a small shuddering breath from his lips.

“What would you do with me once you had me on your desk?”

Hannibal’s stare flickered down to the movement in Will’s pants

“After I thanked the universe for bestowing such a gift upon me, I would drop to my knees and make sure that you felt how grateful I was. My tongue would know every inch of your beautiful pussy, and you would cum for me at least once before I fucked you.”

A soft moan escaped Will’s lips; his finger slid in tight little circles on his swollen clit, and he sprawled his legs open slightly wider to provide himself with better access to his dripping core and Hannibal with a better view of his lewd display.

“H-what about you? Where would you cum?”

Hannibal sat up on the edge of his seat, his fingers laced

“I always loved imagining what you would look like as you choked on my cock. Would your tears wet your cheeks or simply cling to your lashes? Would the heat of me in your throat be too overwhelming? How would it feel when you tightened around me as you gagged? The thought of you so vulnerable, yet so completely in control, never failed to be a distracting one. “

“Why don’t you come over here now..... so we can find out.”

A smile spread Hannibal’s lips now, full and wolfish.

“Oh my dear, I was hoping you’d invite me to join you.”

He sank to his hands and knees, crawling the distance between them, eyes never leaving Will’s. A contented sigh rumbled from deep within his chest when he reached his lover; he nuzzled his face against his inner thigh before his hands trailed up to Will’s waistband. He pulled Will’s hand from his boxers, gently kissing and suckling each of the fingertips before replacing it with his own.

Will gave a gasping cry as the fullness of Hannibal’s long fingers consumed him. His hips stuttered against his palm and his hands searched desperately for some bit of Hannibal to hold onto. He fisted his shirt collar and moaned lowly as the older man pressed his forehead to Will’s and purred encouragement.

“Oh pigeon, your pussy feels so good already. I can’t wait to feel you around my cock, but first I need you to cum for me. Can you do that? Be a good boy and cum in my mouth, and as a reward I’ll fill your throat.”

He was already so close, his obedience was all but guaranteed. Will nodded frantically

“pleasepleaseplease “

He felt Hannibal smile against him as he kissed his forehead, then he sank back down between Will’s legs, pulling down his jeans and boxers as he went. He made a pleased little sound in the back of his throat before he leaned in to press his tongue into his pussy.

Will’s back arched and his eyes began to glaze over as he stared at the ceiling. The sounds Hannibal was making were obscene; he slurped and lapped in a maddening rhythm that promised to leave Will boneless and euphoric in a matter of minutes. His tongue swirled around his clit, and he suckled the tip softly, humming against the sensitive skin.

The pressure that had been building in Will’s abdomen reached its breaking point; he rode Hannibal’s face through his orgasm, slick spilled down the older man’s chin. He sagged into the chair, his thoughts disabled by a thick brain fog, a silly smile dancing across his lips. He wasn’t sure how long Hannibal had been standing in front of him, his hand extended, by the time he noticed him.

Once he took his hand, Hannibal pulled him up into his chest and wrapped his arms around him. He kissed him, deep and warm before releasing him and spinning him around. Will found himself turned to face the heavy wooden desk and suddenly bent over its top, his face pressed into its cool surface. Hannibal’s large hand splayed over one side of his face, the slight pressure being used to keep him pinned to the desk quickening his heartrate and making his pussy quiver.

Using his free hand, Hannibal loosened his belt and removed himself from his suit pants. His erection ached and his tip was already leaking precum. He palmed Will’s dripping cunt, wetting his hand to lube his length and making the younger man whimper into the desktop. He slid his tip against his wet folds, teasing his hole with the promise of being filled.

 Will turned to look back at him, lifting his hips off the desk, searching for him and whining

“Hannibal, baby please. I need you inside me, please fuh- ohhhhhhhhh”

His words dissolved into a throaty moan as Hannibal thrust inside him. His balls slapped against Will as he fucked into him, the hand on his face drifting to tangle in his dark curls. He furrowed his brow and closed his eyes, losing himself to the feeling of Will around him.

“Will……Will my love. Oh-“

He pumped into him while he used his free hand to reach around for Will’s clit. He needed to feel him cum around him.

Using his two middle fingers, he rolled circles into Will’s clit and stroked at its sides; the younger man replied by bucking up into him, slamming his hips back into Hannibal’s.

Will opened his mouth to speak, but all he was able to manage was a high-pitched whine. His orgasm opened him up slowly, like a night blooming jasmine in the moonlight; it blossomed through his frame, spreading all the way to the tips of his toes. Hannibal fucked him through it, the squeeze of his pussy threatening to milk his own orgasm from him.

Will felt a hand on his shoulder, pulling him toward the edge of the desk to lean against it. He knelt on the balls of his feet, his back pressed against the side of the desk and groped for Hannibal’s hips. He greedily inhaled his cock, taking its full length and gagging around it.

Hannibal braced himself on the edge of the desk, arms on either side of Will’s head. He inhaled sharply, the feeling of Will’s tongue brushing against his frenulum drawing a soft moan from his lips. He cupped Will’s cheek with one hand and chuckled softly as he stopped bobbing on his cock for a few seconds to nuzzle against his palm.

“L-love , I’m so close. I’m- uh”

The hand on Wil’s cheek found its way back into his curls, and he used the leverage to thrust into Will’s mouth with increased speed. He rolled his hips, griding into his mouth until one final flick of Will’s tongue brought him over the edge.

Hannibal cried out as he came, a staccato yelp; he twined his fingers tightly into Will’s curls and he pumped his orgasm into the back of his throat, saline and warm as it dripped thickly down to his stomach.

Hannibal tilted his head back to kiss him lightly on the forehead. Will beamed up at him

“So, did I live up to the fantasy?”

He chuckled and patted his cheek tenderly

“My dear, you have surpassed every pedestrian fantasy I have ever conjured, simply by existing.”

Chapter Text

No matter how old Will got or how confident he was in his appearance, socializing never failed to make him feel like a scrawny awkward teenager who wasn’t sure of his cue to join the conversation. He gritted his teeth and chided himself for the rising wave of anxiety that was roiling in his chest.

It’s just dinner, you have one every night. And it’s not like some total strangers are gonna be at the table. It’s Alana, Hannibal and Abigail. Simple enough: Your best friend, your partner and your….

The thought caught him off guard, momentarily distracting him from tugging on the rolled hem of his sweater.

 How did he describe Abigail? How should he? What would she choose to call him if she was asked to make an introduction?

She wasn’t his daughter, obviously, but the thought that she would forever view him as nothing more than a reminder of the worst day of her life made him nauseated. ‘Friend’ seemed weird, and ‘patron’ seemed even weirder.

Why are you worrying about this right now? , the thought scolded. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and blew it out through pursed lips, clenching his hands a few times and shaking them to try and rid himself of the panicky, tingly feeling in his fingertips.  He opened his eyes and frowned at his reflection in the bathroom mirror.

 The sweater and collared shirt Will had picked out the night before had been an ambitious choice, but not because he didn’t wear it well.

The sweater had been a gift from Hannibal, a deep blue cashmere with toggle closures and leather elbow patches. He said he had bought it because Will had been “in dire need of a proper professor’s sweater”. The forest green collared oxford he had paired it with had given the entire look a composed, semi-formal vibe. It was a safe bet; a comfortable dip back into TV Dad that he had hoped would make him seem more composed than he felt.

The attempt was failing miserably; instead of making him look polished and confident, he looked as uncomfortable as he felt. Which was to say, extremely so.

Will sighed and peeled out of the sweater, laying it on the bathroom counter to appraise the look without it. He angled and tugged the stiff material of the button up for less than a minute before realizing it was the true culprit behind his discomfort. He headed for the bedroom closet, unbuttoning the oxford as he went and tossing it towards the bed.

He opened the closet and gave a startled gasp, having been caught off guard by an unexpected figure. Hannibal had only recently mounted a full-length mirror to the inside of the door, it was still going to take some getting used to.
Once he registered the reflection as his own, he chuckled and studied it a bit more closely.

Dark curls that spilled down his back, blue eyes that demanded attention even from behind glasses, a fine stubble sprinkled over his jaw and upper lip. He scanned further down the mirror’s glass, taking in his well-muscled shoulders, arms tanned from last week’s work of tilling the back garden and his stomach, which with the assistance of regular homecooked meals had stopped looking like it was stuck to his spine. He had even developed a healthy-looking little tummy; it had bothered him at first, but now he viewed the extra weight as akin to the bites and bruises Hannibal had also given him.

They were all ways that he proved to Will that he loved him; that he was worth loving and caring for and so was his body.

He reached for the top shelf of the closet to grab a t-shirt to pair with his cardigan, and for a moment, caught sight of one of the horizontal scars that lay midway up his chest.  As he pulled the well-worn cotton shirt over his head, the thought of his scars gave him an unexpected but encouraging reminder.

He wasn’t an anxious teenager who didn’t fit in anymore. He was a grown man who had taken his life by the reins and did what he needed to do to make it his own.  He took a life filled with sadness and self-hatred and doubt and carved out something good for himself and the people that he cared for. Granted, it hadn’t come overnight; Will had no way of quantifying the literal blood, sweat and tears (not to mention thousands of dollars’ worth of medical debt) that it had taken for him to be standing in front of this full-length mirror, second-guessing his wardrobe choices for a casual night in.

The gravity and mundanity of it all was almost hilarious in its juxtaposition.

Hannibal’s sweater lay much more comfortably against the soft fabric of the shirt, and after a final check in the bathroom mirror, Will turned off the light and headed towards the conversation he could hear coming from the kitchen.  Hannibal had said something to make Abigail laugh; her wheezy snicker was unmistakable and never failed to make Will smile.

You figured yourself out, you’ll figure Abigail out too, he promised himself.

You didn’t get yourself right overnight, why should she be any different?

The tenor of his thoughts deepened, and he realized it was Hannibal’s voice he now heard in his head, a memory from earlier in the week

“Give it time, my dear. Be patient with yourself, allow yourself the same grace that you bestow so willingly upon those you love.”

Will gave a small chuckle, and he leaned down to pat Carmel on the head as she passed on her way to the kitchen.

“Okay, Doctor.” He muttered to himself and the Hannibal voiced-thoughts.

The real article was standing in the kitchen chopping vegetables with Abigail; Will had never seen anything more perfect.

 He stopped in the doorway, silently watching them, almost afraid that he would ruin the sanctity of the scene. Instead of joining them, he studied them both, noting every detail, committing it all to memory in the way a painter captures a golden sunset; glowing and beautiful.

This is the way he wanted to hold them in his mind forever. Not as the man who lied to him or the girl who was orphaned by him, but simply as Hannibal and Abigail. His Hannibal and Abigail.

His imperfect and occasionally felonious home. 

Abigail’s copper hair was tied back in a low ponytail, but a few strands had slipped loose to hang near her ears. She was also wearing an outfit Hannibal had selected for her, a soft pink, quarter-sleeved blouse whose high collar hid the scar on her neck. Will knew the stylistic choice had been made for Abigail’s benefit, as she often wore a scarf or kerchief whenever she had to interact with people outside of their little family unit. Now she wouldn’t spend half the night tugging on the knot of a bandana or re-draping her heavy wool scarf.  

He really does think of everything, Will thought with a soft chuckle.

The sound was just loud enough to catch Abigail’s attention; she turned her gaze up from the cutting board to look at him. Will couldn’t remember if he had ever seen such a beautiful shade of blue before her.

“Finally, I have some back up.”

Will chuckled again, this time a little louder. He crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame.

“Hold up there. Before you make up the team shirts, why don’t you let me in on what I’m agreeing with.”

Abigail rolled her eyes and jerked her thumb at Hannibal, who was still focused on the herbs on the cutting board in front of him. He glanced up at Will, a playful sparkle in his eye.

“This guy thinks it’s totally bizarre that I’m only bringing one bag for a weekend trip, but I think he’s the one with the problem if he thinks he genuinely thinks he’s gonna need half his wardrobe like…….”

She trailed off, vaguely gesturing towards Hannibal and groaning with confused frustration.

Hannibal exhaled sharply, a snort of a laugh and pointed at Abigail

“’Half my wardrobe’ is a bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think? It would seem to me that trying to garner allies with false information is a bit underhanded, Miss Hobbs.”

He looked to Will, still gracefully rocking his knife through the herbs

“I simply believe it is best to be prepared for anything the universe may drop into your lap, and part of that preparation is the right outfit. Travelling with any less than three cases feels as if you’re asking me to travel naked. I don’t know how you manage to get from place to place with nothing more than a duffel bag. “

He paused, looking the man in the doorway up and down before adding

“Well…..In your defense, it is much easier rather to stuff a few t-shirts and a flannel into a bag and call it a day when you don’t harbor concern for things like wrinkles.”

Will gave an offended little gasp

“Hey, what the hell! Why am I catching strays? I thought we were trying to convince me to join sides here.”

Hannibal tossed Abigail a conspiratorial look and they both started laughing. Abigail wiped her hands on the kitchen towel that lay on the counter between her and Hannibal, playfully nudging him with her hip.

“Come on, Will, you’re like a pro at catching strays. Just look at that back yard!”

She waved a hand at the open window over the sink; as if on cue, a chorus of barks sounded as they pack spotted a very suspicious looking tree branch.

Will laughed sarcastically, and Abigail continued, pointing to a large plastic tub on the counter next to the fridge.

“Speaking of strays, these are dinner, not pets. I made Hannibal promise me he wouldn’t let you order a pizza and start researching tanks.”

She clapped a hand on his shoulder as she passed by

“I believe in you.”

She gave him a serious nod, a mock tough furrow in her brow before grinning at him. She rolled her eyes playfully before adding

"I guess I should go pack my scuba suit and tutu. You never know what the universe might drop in our laps."

She gave a small chuckle before she scooped up Carmel and headed off to her room.

Now intrigued by the contents of the tub, Will finally entered the room. The smell gave away the mystery when he was a foot away; live fish, splashing in crystal clear water.

He watched them swimming for a moment, smooth bodies buffeting off each other as they wriggled and explored their small temporary home, unaware of the fate that was awaiting them.

Without making a sound, Hannibal had left his station at the counter to stand close behind Will. He felt the younger man give a small jump when he slipped his hands around his waist and laid his chin on his shoulder, then quickly relax back into his body. Hannibal pressed a soft kiss into his neck, breathing him in deeply and humming with pleasure on the exhale.

“I wanted to make something special to commemorate the occasion of our….. Well.. it’s not quite a debut to society. Let’s see…. A debut to the society that matters to you.”

He nuzzled against his shoulder

“I’m glad to see you like the sweater. Abigail wasn’t sure about the texture, but I remembered you owning at least one similar cardigan, so I felt the risk was worth the taking.”

Will nodded and laced his fingers through Hannibal’s

“Yeah, no, it’s good. I like it.”

He paused for a moment, chewing on his lower lip

“You really went out of your way with all this, huh?”

Hannibal laughed softly

“I promise you dear, it’s nothing more than a simple trout au bleu. The theatrics of bringing marine life into our home is an unfortunate necessity of the dish’s preparation.”

Will shook his head and untwined a hand from Hannibal’s to gesture widely

“No, not just the food; I kind of always assume that you’re going to come up with something insane that’s too fancy for me to pronounce. I mean the clothes and the trip and making all this effort to make sure I’m comfortable, that Abigail is comfortable. You didn’t have to. It would have been so much simpler to just send the dogs to a boarding facility for the weekend and go out for dinner. Now you’re gonna have all this work to do, and -”

Hannibal squeezed him tightly, and gave him another soft, reverential kiss on the neck, distracting and interrupting him.

“Pigeon, of course I didn’t have to. I think you and I both know that obligation makes a poor housemate for any relationship, romantic or familial. I knew this night, while very special to you, would also be rife with opportunities for you to be made uncomfortable or overstimulated, so I did what I could to mitigate those possibilities.

As for Abigail, her comfort is yours. I cannot disregard one without harming the sanctity of the other. And that is one thing I refuse to do.”

Will turned in his arms to face him, wrapping his own around Hannibal’s neck. He leaned up to kiss him full and deep on the lips. When they parted, breathless and rosy cheeked, he said in a half-whisper, eyes focused on the little dip between the older man’s collarbones.

“I just-I…. I never thought this was for me. I didn’t think I would get to have this, you know? People like me normally don’t.”

He kept staring at Hannibal’s chest until he felt fingers under his chin, lifting Will’s gaze to meet his. Brown and blue studied each other for what felt like an eternity. The corners of the brown eyes crinkled as a soft smile spread over Hannibal’s lips.

“Will, I believe that we are guaranteed nothing by this life, with the exception of death of course. But I also believe that it was decided eons before your birth as some cruel joke that if you were ever able to attain any amount of peace, it would be held in bloodstained hands. Your life has not been kind to you, but I made you a promise.”

Both hands on Will’s face now, cradling his cheeks softly, Hannibal continued in a voice a plush velvet.

“One day, happiness would be all that you knew. That day has arrived, my love.  And all that we have been made to suffer to arrive at this glorious day can be seen now for what it is: simply a stain on the cuticle or a scar with edges faded from time. A reminder of what we have survived and nothing more. Certainly nothing that can hurt us any longer.”

He kissed Will on the cheek then softly on the lips before he murmured into his mouth

“You have paid well enough for this life, Mr. Graham. You should try and enjoy it; I intend to.”

Chapter Text

Winston thudded through the room on heavy paws, his nails clicking against the kitchen tile as he investigated the plastic tub on the ground. He cocked his big head, watching the fish curiously as they writhed and swam, the rays of the setting sun cutting through the kitchen window ,sparkling off their scales. He leaned in close to sniff the briny strangers when he was unceremoniously splashed in the face, sending him reeling backwards with a small cry.

He slowly back away, his eyes never leaving his new aquatic enemies when he was again caught off guard, this time when he backed into Will’s legs. He whipped around and scurried toward the door only stopping to see what he had actually bumped into from the safety of the hallway.  It was then that he realized it was his master and the new human that took up too much space in the bed.

Winston watched the men as they spoke to each other in low, quiet voices, leaning into each other, sharing a glass of wine.

The dog wasn’t entirely sure of the newest human, but there seemed to be much better food on the ground when he was in the room, so Winston did his best to ignore the feeling of unease that lives in all strays. He turned to lumber down the hallway to his bed for his evening nap.

Neither Hannibal nor Will had noticed the canine intrusion, as their conversation had ended, and their mouths were devoted to more passionate work. Will’s was skillfully making his way down to the little hollow at the base of Hannibal’s throat, decorating the skin with soft pink patches.

Hannibal’s was tucked low by Will’s ear, husking praise between stuttering breaths

“Oh pigeon, your lips…. није ништа слађе.”

Will gave a soft growl and lifted Hannibal onto the counter, knocking over a pepper mill.

Hannibal quickly untwined a hand from Will’s curls to set it back upright; after leaning back and setting the mill out of the way on a high shelf, he turned back to Will. His coos of praise becoming a playful scolding , he tugged on Will’s hair with the hand still twisted in it

“Now Will, we must mind the seasonings. We can’t have word get out that one of my dinner parties was missing its mill. I’d be the gossip of the town.”

Will laughed softly. Pulling against the gentle resistance of Hannibal’s grip, he leaned forward and clamped his teeth against the older man’s collar bone, pressing down slowly until he heard the soft hiss he was waiting for; the one that made him dampen his boxers with a practically shameful amount of slick. Freeing Hannibal’s chest with the press of his tongue to dampen the pain of release, he looked up at his lover through his thick dark lashes

“I’m sure if they knew what else the dinner party was missing, they’d be grateful the worst they have to deal with is pre-ground pepper.”

Hannibal rolled his eyes and held Will out at arm’s length, studying the man as if he were determining how to most pleasurably address this insubordination.  He seemed to settle upon the philosophy of ‘an eye for an eye’. He pulled Will back in close, pressing his lips close to his ear to purr

“Just because I’m no longer serving alternative proteins to my guests, I fail to see a reason I cannot sample the exquisite meal in my hands.”  

He angled his head, studying his willing captive’s face for any sign of unpleasurable discomfort. When he found none, he twisted Will’s head to one side and pulled down his shirt collar. Placing his lips against his chest,  he hummed softly against it before he pressed his teeth into the muscle. It was as if he was testing the skin, testing what Will was comfortable with.

With he received nothing but a satisfied whimper, he wrapped his legs around the man’s back, pulling him in close and breathing him in deeply. He exhaled with a throaty grumble, his breath hot against Will’s skin. Will felt the spit damp humidity a split second before he felt the heat of a different kind.

Pain, white hot. Then the sear of teeth piercing skin. Finally, the heat of his own blood as it welled against the marks Hannibal had stamped into his chest.

 Will’s lashes fluttered; his arms fell from the older man’s waist, his hands shooting out to grip the counter. His knees wobbled precariously, but he found himself suddenly bolstered by Hannibal palming his wet cunt through the front of his jeans.  The sudden pressure along with the hot drag of a tongue over his fresh bite mark was enough to make Will cry out, burying his face in Hannibal’s chest to stifle the sound.

The older man tugged his shirt collar back over the fresh wound and patted him on pussy with satisfied little chuckle. He caught Will’s face with both hands when the sensation nearly brought him to his knees; he pressed urgent, tender kisses into his cheeks, his heels digging into the backs of Will’s thighs.

Hannibal nuzzled his cheek against Will’s and murmured into his ear, after nipping at the lobe

“And there I’ve gone and spoiled my dinner…….. I imagine the only dish more delicious is your pussy.”

He grabbed Will’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, bringing his gaze up to meet his

“Once we’ve seen to Abigail and our guest this evening, I hope you’ll allow me to reward you for a host’s job well done by licking you until you weep.”

He cocked his head and thought for a moment before adding with a devilish grin

“Well, I suppose with the overnight company you’ll need to dampen your theatrics with a pillow. So perhaps the real reward is mine, when I’m the one who gets to witness you: dripping wet, ass in the air, begging to be devoured. Those precious little whimpers you make, warbled into the confidence of a case of downy feathers, so quiet only I can hear them.”

Hannibal gave a soft growl as he flipped Will’s chin to one side, planting his teeth on his jaw. The gentle chisel of teeth against his flesh was quickly replaced by lips, kissing and suckling in random succession. Will closed his eyes, body melting into Hannibal’s with a sigh that rumbled from deep within him.

Suddenly, a chuckle and a voice cut through the silence of the room

“Hot. You guys looking for a third?”

Both men froze. Hannibal moved first, slowly lifting his mouth off of Will’s jaw and replied

“Doctor Bloom, how……unexpected to see you. Please come in.”

Will turned to look over his shoulder, pain blooming in his chest as the movement pulled against the edges of his bite wound. Alana was leaning in the kitchen doorway, hip propped against the frame.  She leaned forward, crossing her arms, and said to Hannibal, her tone teasing

“You sound surprised to see me. Did you forget that I was coming over tonight? Is the old age getting to you that quickly?”

Hannibal rolled his eyes. He grabbed Will’s hands and kissed them before moving them aside to hop down off the counter. He crossed the kitchen in one step to place a large hand on Alana’s shoulder.

“I can assure you; I was prepared for your presence tonight. And part of that preparation includes referencing a catalog of past behavior. We told you to arrive at 7. Based on my knowledge of your personal beliefs around timeliness, I felt it was safe to assume we had another –“

He leaned back to read the clock that hung just above their heads. It gave the time as 6:45

“-hour, at the very least before you would show up.”

It was Alana’s turn to roll her eyes. She sneered playfully at Hannibal and crossed the kitchen to sit on the counter next to the sink. She unraveled her hair from its tight bun and wrung it out into the sink as she spoke

“I wasn’t expecting to be so early either, but the interview that was supposed to be my whole afternoon cancelled last minute. I swear, these guys get to choose what they’re eating for dinner, and they think they have unlimited power to fuck with everyone.”

Will turned against the counter to lean against it, crossing his arms over his chest. The movement pulled on his shirt, making a blood damp spot near the collar shift to shine in the light. The shine caught Alana’s attention for a second, but she continued without mentioning it, shaking a handful of conditioner-tinged water into the metal sink basin as she spoke.

“We’ve got this guy who’s doing fifteen to life in Tennessee, finally admits to killing his wife here in the state, trying to get his library privileges back. DA and the family want him extradited, want him to face the full charge. All of a sudden, he realizes he’s going to be going back to court, decides he’s be better off if he has something to bargain with. Yesterday he starts telling the staff at Baltimore State that he’s got information on a case of “high importance.” I was supposed to witness the confession, but this morning he tells the guards that he’s having chest pains; has to go to the hospital wing. Whole day down the drain.”

Alana rolled her eyes

“Just one giant, time wasting circle-jerk if you ask me. “

She paused for a moment, and just as Will was about to ask a follow up question about the inmate, Alana launched into a new story. She seemed to have limitless stories about the seemingly never-ending parade of sub-par men she went out to dinner with and never saw again.

She kept talking through the appetizer and most of dinner, only pausing to take sips of her red wine, draining the remains of her most recent glass with a deep swig.

She nodded her head, gesturing to Hannibal to keep pouring as he refilled her glass and after taking a sip off the top she continued

“So we’re halfway through dinner and I tell myself, I just cant do it. I can’t go on a second date with a guy who has the same name as my brother. It’s weird. But this guy is cute and had a good job, so maybe I can convince him to go by his middle name. So I ask him what his middle name is and you’ll never believe it. It’s Stephen.”

Will gasped while Hannibal and Abigail exchanged confused glances before looking at him for answers.

Noticing both sets of eyes starting at him Will gave a soft chuckle. He wiped his lips and cleared his throat

“Stephen is her brother’s middle name.”

Abigail laughed, then thinking better of herself, made a sympathetic sound. Hannibal pressed his napkin to his lips, his shoulders giving a small bounce.

He was doing his best to appear casual, not to look as if he has noticed Alana’s hand drifting across the table top to pat Will’s

He eyed the tall delicate wine glasses on the table top. Will had managed to put away two glasses of the dark red wine and Alana was halfway through her fourth. Hannibal didn’t drink, not since the night at Tanner’s. He needed to be sharp.

He knew that Alana was a good friend, that she would respect the boundaries of their relationship.  And it wasn’t just the fact that they had kissed before; it was the intimacy they shared. The knowledge of each other’s lives implied a closeness that (whether he would like to admit it to himself or not) made him uncomfortable.

Jealous, even.

He reached across the table and grabbed Will’s free hand, squeezing it lovingly.

Possessively.

He lazily dragged his middle finger around the rim of his water glass ,doing his very best to keep his voice level,

“So, Alana, with all your tales of romantic misadventure, how did you manage to run out of conversational fodder to keep Jack Crawford entertained at your last meeting?”

She furrowed her brow, momentarily unsure if he had been rude or if she was starting to feel the effects of her buzz and being a bit over sensitive.  She decided upon the latter and took the bait with a good natured smile

“Well, Hannibal , what ever could you mean? If you’re alluding to the fact that Jack asked if I had ever ‘made a run at Dr. Lecter’ so I had to let him know that you had a partner, then I think the phrase you’re looking for is thank you. It was the very least he would accept to stay out of either of our business.”

Will laughed again, a little louder and Alana added

“Honestly, it was pretty flattering, having Jack assume that I could bag a successful doctor. I still don’t know how you managed it, Will.”

She turned her focus to Hannibal, half-joking

“What was it that intrigued you? The dog hair? The sweat stains? Or the general air of disarray that made him seem like a fun project?”

She gave a wicked grin

“Or was it the ass? I’ve got to admit, it’s pretty fantastic.”

Will huffed, pretending to be offended, and Hannibal gave his hand another squeeze.

“I have to admit, it was none of the factors that you listed.”

He leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other and laying Will’s hand on his knee

“I found myself entranced by Will the first time I saw him, hunched over the desk in Jack’s office, studying crime scene photos. His brow was furrowed, and he acted as if he hadn’t even noticed I entered the room.”

Hannibal smiled at the memory and added  

“Or if he had noticed me, he was extremely offended by my presence. In any case, he was so utterly consumed by the case files in front of him, it allowed me to study him without shame or discomfort. He was obviously very handsome, but I could see that there was much more to Mr. Graham than met the eye.”

He reached out to lightly brush Will’s cheek with his fingertips; the younger man turned into the gesture, nuzzling against the hand and closing his eyes with a content sigh.

“It was once I knew him, saw him for who he truly was beneath the gruff exterior that our friend often uses to protect himself, that I recognized the feeling within myself as something a tad less professional. And I suppose the rest is history. “

He gazed lovingly at Will and brushed a curl back off his forehead

“Such an interesting morning it was for all of us in that kitchen.”

Abigail gave a small cough, and Will opened his eyes to silently scold Hannibal. The older man reached out to pat the girl’s hand where it lay flat on the table top. She looked up and met his gaze; with a small shake of her head she stopped him from saying anything else on the subject, she was obviously unwilling to speak on the topic. She looked up at Will, nodding to show that she was fine and then she spoke to Alana, who had been too distracted by a dog pawing at her ankles to see the family exchange

“So, Dr. Bloom, any college advice for me? I think I’ve got my major figured out, I just need decide if I’m going to try rushing any of the sororities.”

Alana leaned up from doting on the small dog at her feet, softly chuckling

“Oh, have I got some stories I could tell you about the sororities! Stories that need a refill to tell.”

She grabbed for her wine glass but missed, her accuracy having been compromised by the red wine, sending the empty glass flying across the table to shatter in front of Will and Hannibal.  Will’s hands immediately flew to the start gathering glass, while Hannibal stood up calmly from his chair and started giving instructions.

“Abigail, could you be a dear and remove the dogs from the room to avoid any cut paws? And Alana, if you could gather the broom and dustpan from the pantry, I would appreciate it.”

Both women sprang into action, Abigail quickly scooping the small dog off the floor and ushering a nosy Winston away from the door and out of the room while Alana shot off in the direction of the kitchen.

When he turned his attention back to Will, he had collected a small handful of glass shards in his palm. Suddenly, he hissed and dropped the glass back onto the table, a drop of blood beading on his thumb.

Hannibal flew to his side and took his hand in his, examining the cut

“Oh, my poor boy. Let me help you.”

Before Will could interject, Hannibal took his thumb into his mouth. He sucked gently, drawing out a small amount of blood before gently probing the edges of the slice with his tongue. Will watched him as he closed his eyes and hummed softly against the finger in his mouth.

He was finding it very difficult not to be turned on.

When he felt the light graze of Hannibal’s teeth against his skin he moaned softly, his hips bucking against air, like his body was already preparing to be under Hannibal’s.

“Sorry that took so long!”

Alana came bounding back into the room, broom and dustpan at the ready. Will and Hannibal pulled apart, the former wrapping his thumb in the hem of his tshirt. Alana’s eyes flew to the wrapped hand immediately and her brow creased with concern

“Oh no, you’re hurt! Go take care of that, I’m pretty sure me and Hannibal can handle a broken glass.”

Will nodded at Hannibal and hurried off the bathroom. Hannibal smiled at Alana as he held out a hand to take the broom from her

“Thank you for your help. You’d imagine between the dogs and Will we’d have sworn off glass service forever.”

Alana started to respond, but stopped, pointing at her teeth

”You’ve got a little something, just there.”

Hannibal reached up and wiped his teeth, noting Will’s blood on his fingertips as he did. Without skipping a beat, he licked the blood off his fingers, and he smiled at Alana again, saying casually

“That I did; my gratitude continues, Dr. Bloom.”

As Hannibal leaned over to sweep up the glass shards off the hard wood, Alana questioned him for the second time that night.

This time she couldn’t be sure that the odd feeling his smile gave her could be completely attributed to the wine.

Chapter Text

Will thought it was a branch snapping the first time he heard it and stood still for a moment to listen to the sounds of the woods around him, trying to pinpoint its location.

 It was still early morning; the sun had just started to peak over the tree line by the time he made it to the mailbox at the end of the long driveway and only a few of the morning birds had begun their rehearsals.  There was a slight chill in the air that clung to his breath as he huffed to lean over and grab a piece of junk mail that had fluttered out of the box when he opened it.

That’s when he heard it again: the same noise, a snap, only this time a little louder.

 Closer.

 He stood up quickly, his vision giving a slight dizzying wobble as he looked around for the source of the sound. That was when he saw movement near the trees on the opposite side of the road.

Movement and a flash of red hair.

Will rolled his eyes and sighed, huffing a huge cloud of steam into the air as he yelled

“Lounds, I don’t know how you got my address, but I swear to God if you don’t get the hell out of here right now-“

“Now, now Agent Graham! You get so violent and aggressive when you let your panties get in a twist. “

Freddie’s unmistakably smarmy voice shot back at him as she clambered out from behind a thicket of bramble and onto the shoulder of the road. She brushed a leaf off the hem of her green peplum jacket and quickly stowed her camera, the source of the mysterious snapping sounds, back into her bag.

Even from across the street, Will was annoyed by her; Freddie seemed to notice this. She painted on a wide grin and propped her hand on her hip like she was having a friendly chat over the fence with a next-door neighbor.

“Well, now that we can both see each other, can I say you are looking fantastic Agent Graham. Are you working out? You look much more solid than the last time I saw you.”

“Cut the shit Freddie. Get the fuck off my property and stay the hell away from-“

Stay the hell away from my family was what he had wanted to shout at her. But the very last thing he needed was Freddie Lounds to know any more about his personal business, so he continued, an angry snarl twisting his face,

"Just get out of here! I don’t even want to know how you got my address or why you’re on my property. Just git.”

It was always hard for Will to keep the Louisianna drawl out of his voice when he was either very drunk or very angry, this time was no exception.

Freddie gave a little frown and shouted back, cupping her hand dramatically around the side of her lips as if she were communicating over a great gulf

“Actually, your property ends on your side of the road. Technically I’m a totally innocent citizen on a morning walk who’s being verbally accosted.”

Will rolled his eyes. He could feel his face getting hot, he hoped she couldn’t see the streaks of red  warming his cheeks.

“Sure thing Lounds, you’re innocent like I’m –“

“The Chesapeake Ripper?”

The accusation hung in the air for a moment; Will was too stunned to reply and Freddie took the opportunity to sneak her camera out of her bag snap a picture of his slack jawed expression. The shutter sound brought him back to his senses; he pushed his glasses up to pinch the bridge of his nose to quell the early tingle of a tension headache developing behind his forehead.

“Freddie, I don’t even have time to get into how ridiculous this whole situation is, let alone the bonkers shit you just said to me. I’m the Chesapeake Ripper? Me, a member of the government agency that is actively trying to catch him?”

He threw his hands in the air dramatically, letting them fall to hit his legs

 “What next, I killed the Lindbergh baby and I’m the Florida Skunk Ape too? Do you get a commission every time you come up with the most insane tabloid garbage you can shit out, or is it like a monthly bonus the Tattler gives you based on sales at the grocery store newspaper stand?”  

Freddie’s lips hardened into a firm line. She tucked her camera back into her bag and  shrugged

“I’m just saying, I think it’s awfully convenient that the killings stopped after you were removed for threatening my life-“

She paused dramatically before looking both ways and crossing the street, stopping a few feet away from Will to stand in the middle of the road.

“And now that Jack Crawford has limited your time in the field, there hasn’t been a new body in what? A month? Two? That can’t be a coincidence. And if it is, it’s a pretty odd one, you have to admit.”

Will’s brow crinkled with frustration; not because of the accusation, but because of how unbelievable the entire conversation had been.  He gave an incredulous little laugh

“So you’ve run out of conspiracy theories and moved onto 100% bullshit? Real classy.”

She smirked and backed away slightly, hands raised defensively

“I may take some creative liberties with my prose, jazz the headline up with something dramatic, but I don’t think I would go so far as to call it ‘100% bullshit’. And I don’t think my readers would either.

 You have a very violent history. Can you even remember the amount of times you’ve pulled your service weapon, let alone fired it, Agent Graham? ”

She pressed her fingertips to her lips for a moment, a grin stretching beneath them,

“Oh, wait. I meant Special Investigator. You never were able to pass all the exams, were you? Marksmanship, sure. That was a piece of cake. But those psych evals are a doozy, huh?” She whistled and rolled her eyes, her grin now wide and wolfish.

She turned at the sound of a truck slowly coming towards them and walked backwards towards the other side of the road near the woods, never taking her eyes off Will.

Will clenched his jaw. If she was trying to work him up, she was succeeding. He nodded, gnawing at the inside of this cheek, trying not to give her another headline. He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by the sudden rushing crunch of tires on gravel driveway behind him.

He turned to see Hannibal’s Bentley coming to a stop beside him. The window began to lower with a mechanical little hum, revealing Hannibal’s face, brow creased with concern.

“Feel free to correct me if I am mistaken…. but is that Miss Lounds at the end of our driveway?”

Will shoved his fists in his jeans pockets, watching Freddie out of the corner of her eye as she typed away at her phone. He replied through gritted teeth.

“Yeah. She came crawling out of the woods like a cryptid, camera in her little claw, ready to call me the Chesapeake Ripper. Right now, she’s probably writing her next hit piece on me. I just hope Jack doesn’t get too worked up about it all. He’s not exactly my biggest fan right now.”

Hannibal reached out to pat Will’s hand through the rough denim, the furrow in his brow replaced by a crinkle near the corners of his eyes.

“I see. Then I shall have to make sure that our uninvited guest gets back to her vehicle safely while ensuring that she realizes the severity of her actions.”

He turned to place his hand back on the wheel, but Will caught his shoulder, speaking in a hushed, urgent tone

“Hannibal, you can’t……”

The older man gave a small chuckle, wrapping his hand around Will’s wrist and giving it a small squeeze. His dark eyes sparkled mischievously

“Don’t worry, pigeon. No matter how much we would both love to see Miss Lounds….retire from her illustrious career as queen of the muckrakers, I promise she will make it back to the Tattler office in one piece.”

A beat, then he added, playfully

“Though, I can only guarantee her safety for as long as she is in my car. I can make no promises that another one of her article’s subjects won’t appear to file a complaint.”

They laughed, and Will pulled his hand out of his pocket to grab Hannibal’s hand and squeeze it back. As soon as he did, he realized how odd it was that his car was on the driveway in the first place. His brow knitted with confusion

“What are you doing out here anyways? We’re leaving in like-“

He released his lover’s hand and turned his wrist up to check his Casio

 “Twoish hours.”

Hannibal smiled at him and gave a little shrug, doing a much better TV Dad impression than he was ever able to manage

“One of our canine housemates decided to convert Abigail’s phone charger into a chew toy, so I was on my way to fetch a last-minute replacement. Lucky for you, it seems.”

Will gave a small chuckle trying to imagine which of the troublesome dogs may have caused the mischief.  He started to reply but was cut off by agitating tones of Freddie Lounds. She had made her way back on to the road and was watching the men intensely, like a scientist watching a maze full of lab rats.

“I didn’t realize you made house calls Doctor Lecter. Or is this a service you only offer your most deranged patients?”

Hannibal slipped out if his TV Dad’s cardigan and into his people suit with near surgical precision and speed, Will barely noticed the shift. Then he heard his voice and knew something was different.

“Miss Lounds, I was just heading into town on an errand, I’ll give you a ride back to wherever it is that you parked. If you please-“

He gestured to the empty passenger’s seat with an open, upturned hand

Freddie wrinkled her nose; she hadn’t expected to have her jab ignored, let alone be offered a ride. She shook her head, taking a small step back.

“I’m a big girl, Doctor, I think I’ll be fine.”

Hannibal gave a small smile. It was his turn to shake his head now

“It seems you’ve misunderstood me. This is not a friendly offer. I am removing you from the property before the authorities have to be notified or you further disturb Mr. Graham.”

He tilted his head and took in her expression as it morphed from a confident bluster to the anxious mental calculation of how many more run ins with the law she could get away with. She gave a resigned sigh and adjusted the strap of the bag on her shoulder. She looked over the top of the Bentley to give Will a final narrow-eyed examination.

“Well, I guess you’re off the hook for now, Graham. Be sure to tell Abigail I said hi. I’m still waiting for her opinions on the title of our book, you know?”

Will rolled his eyes

“Yeah, I’ll be sure to do that.”

Freddie blew him a kiss; he flipped her off.

As soon as her seatbelt was fastened the Bentley’s engine purred itself awake and they were turning off down the road towards town. Will watched them until the car disappeared around a bend.

He knew that Hannibal would be on his best behavior, even if Freddie never was, but he couldn’t help but laugh to himself about the irony of the situation.

Freddie had come out to Wolf Trap looking for the Chesapeake Ripper. Little did she know she was being driven back to town by him.

The perfect opportunity for the interview of a lifetime and she had no idea she was letting it slip through her fingers.

He laughed again and turned to head back to the house; he would not be passing along Freddie’s greeting.

Chapter Text

A heavy silence hung over the Bentley’s cabin, only broken but the occasional tire thud over a pothole or Freddie impatiently sighing.

She wasn’t used to people being this quiet around her; by now she was normally being yelled at, and the silence was beginning to make her uncomfortable. She sighed again and shifted in her seat to examine the man behind the wheel of the very expensive automobile that was shepherding her back to her well-worn beater: Dr. Hannibal Lecter.

Freddie was aware of how she was perceived by others; most went out of their way to let her know what they thought about her. But the doctor, aside from the smile and nod he had given her when she told him where she was parked, had proven to be much more difficult to read. His expression betrayed nothing about his thoughts. His face was a blank mask of civility, neither friendly nor acrimonious.

It was giving her the creeps, if she were being totally honest with herself.

A sharp turn brought her back to earth and she tore her eyes away from the doctor to quickly examine their surroundings. They had arrived at the gas station she had stowed her hand me down station wagon behind, rolling to a stop in the alley a few feet behind the rather weary looking Plymouth. Freddie took a deep breath and steeled herself with a wide, confident grin.

“Well, Doctor Lecter, thank you for being such a gentleman and bringing me all the way back. I’ll be sure to have the office send you a thank you basket.”

She narrowed her wide blue eyes, searching for some perceptible defect, something she could hold onto to help her feel a little less adrift, a little more in control of the situation. When she could find nothing, she headed for her next familiar port of call: The vaguely insulting double entendre.

She grinned, excited to see what kind of reaction she would finally get out of the stoic man

“What do you prefer, muffins of fruit? You seem like a fruity kind of guy…..am I right?”

She studied his face for any change in expression, any hint that she had she had ruffled his fine feathers. The older man gave a small laugh and Freddie braced for the inevitable raised voice or hand; she was extremely glad she had had the foresight to turn on her recorder before she got into the car.

“Miss Lounds, I am curious what I have done to earn your disrespect? I have given you the dignity of privacy for this conversation, I would prefer it if you could return the favor.”

Freddie crinkled her nose, doing her closest approximation of doe-eyed innocence to try and distract herself from the ridiculous fear that he had read her mind.

“I didn’t realize crazy was contagious; are you seeing other people in the car just now or have they been with us the whole ride?”

She pursed her lips and tutted disapprovingly

“You might be spending a little too much time in that looney bin back down the road, Doctor.

Special Agent Graham and his little ward must be rubbing off on you.”

The doctor tapped his thumb against the steering wheel before finally turning to face her.  He may have been laughing before, but when he looked at her now, his eyes held no humor and his lips were pressed into a firm line. He cocked his head, studying her for a moment, as if he were a cat stalking his prey and trying to decide if he should eat it or bat it around a bit first.

 His pupils widened slightly and he said in a soft voice

“I suppose I was foolish for assuming this could be handled with civility. Well, in any case-”

Before she could stop him, he leaned over to reach into the bag that was sitting by her feet, his elbow brushing against her knee. Once she realized what he was doing, she slapped at his broad shoulder, trying to push him back to his side of the cabin.

“Hey! What do you think you’re-”

Her words died in her throat as he produced the recorder, red light glowing brightly like the cherried end of a cigarette.

And it burned me just the same she thought as she tried to regain her composure under his austere glare.

“This is a one-party consent state , Doctor Lecter. I don’t have to explain myself to you or anyone else; especially not the authorities if that’s what you’re planning for your next move.”

The small, mysterious smile returning to curl the corners of his lips the older man replied

“Miss Lounds, I have no intention of involving the authorities. If this had been my motive, I would have saved myself the time and fuel and called the sheriff before leaving Mr. Graham’s property. I would rather address our situation interpersonally, if that arrangement is to your liking.”

Freddie cocked a curious eyebrow as Hannibal turned off the recorder and gently tossed it back into her open bag. 

“There; Isn’t that better?.”

His expression shifted to that of a disappointed father lecturing his truant teenage daughter,

“Now Miss Lounds, you have been exceedingly rude, not only to myself but also Special Agent Graham and Miss Hobbs.”

He steepled his fingers, tilting his head to one side

“What is there to be done about you?”  

An uneasy feeling Freddie couldn’t quite name began to settle into the pit of her stomach. She cleared her throat before she spoke, trying to ignore it

“I’m sure my publisher and readers would agree that a bit of annoyance on the part of a crazy man and a killer orphan is worth exposing the truth about the Ripper and the Shrike. They’d probably even give me a book deal about it.”

“Is that truly what you believe yourself to be, Miss Lounds? Champion of truth and journalistic integrity?”

That same off-putting grin was back 

“ I’m not one of your insipid readers; I’m afraid I can’t be that easily fooled with flowery words and a hollow impression of morality. What was your aim in accosting Mr. Graham this morning? Will your accusation find its place among the many other fabrications that populate the distasteful rag known as the Tattler, or did your motivations lie elsewhere?”

His brow furrowed and he examined her with a slight air of annoyance; as if she weren’t a person at all, but rather a stain on a shirt that he hadn’t previously noticed.

 She had never spent much time around the doctor, only briefly seeing him at the occasional crime scene. But she had always been intrigued by the older man, his striking features and dark eyes drawing her in, making her wish that she had a reason to start up a conversation.

But now that she had his full attention, she wanted nothing more than to go back to communicating exclusively through polite nods across a barrier of police tape. 

For the first time, Freddie broke eye contact, tearing her eyes away to scan the area around the Bentley. The alley was blocked from the view of the parking lot by a cinderblock wall and her station wagon’s wide frame was more than likely hiding the sleek luxury car they were in from any passerbys.

They were completely alone and she cursed herself for letting it happen.

 She swallowed hard, and turned back to face the unsettling man, speaking deliberately to avoid the tremble she felt gnawing at her words. She gave a sly grin, hoping she could charm her way out of any trouble she may have gotten herself into.

“Well, doctor, if I’m being completely honest, I think Will Graham is a dangerous man. And I’ll admit that I may have been winding him up just a bit by telling him a theory I’m toying with……but I’m more interested in his roommate. Abigail knows more than she’s telling us, and you know it would make for an amazing story. Just picture the headline: ‘Daughter of Death Reveals All!’

With any luck I could spin this into a book. Abigail would be paid handsomely for her story, of course. I just need to talk to her…..and someone who could help me persuade her to sit down for the interview, naturally.”

She batted her full lashes at him, hoping he was the kind of man who could be swayed by a pair of big blue eyes

“You are her doctor after all… I’m sure if I had your help, we could leave Mr. Graham out of this. A real two birds, one scone situation.”

“It almost sounds as if you are asking me to sacrifice the privacy of one patient for another, Miss Lounds.”

“I think we both know where your loyalties lie, Dr. Lecter. A shrink as fancy as you doesn’t make housecalls, especially for a guy who’s making less than 60k  a year. I don’t know what the deal is with you two and I don’t need to, to be frank. I just need your help with the girl; even if it’s just letting me know when her sessions let out. She wouldn’t even need to know you told me. I could just happen to be passing by when she was leaving your office. And you could walk away with clean hands.”

She gave a conspiratorial wink and added 

“Well, clean hands and a finder’s fee, of course.”  

Hannibal seemed to give this some thought, leaning back in his seat and humming thoughtfully. After a few moments of silence, he laughed, a sharp exhale through the nose, and shook his head

“At the very least I suppose I could give you my notes from our last session.”

Jackpot 

He wagged a finger at her while he searched in his jacket pocket with the opposite hand.

“ But my assistance comes with a price, Miss Lounds.”

Freddie widened her eyes, doing her best impression of coquettish compliance

“Quid pro quo is only fair, Dr. Lecter. I don’t have my checkbook on me now but-”

He held up a hand to stop her as he produced a small leather notebook from the breast pocket of his suit jacket

“I neither want nor need the Tattler’s dirty pocket change. What I want is your guarantee that you will not be publishing any stories that erroneously label Mr. Graham as the Ripper. I believe your previous write ups have done enough damage, not only to his psyche but his career. Do this and I may be available for….Well, let’s call it an anonymous expert opinion on the Hobbs family.”

He flipped through the notebook as she spoke, and once he found the page he was searching for ripped it out. He produced a pen from the center console of the car and scribbled something at the top of the page before folding it in half. He held it out to Freddie, pulling it back at the last second; her fingers swiped through the empty air.

“You know what I need first, Miss Lounds. I’m not going to find Mr. Graham’s face plastered across the front page of next week’s edition of the Tattler with some lurid headline beneath it, am I?”

Freddie rolled her eyes and held out her open palm

“Fine… but you have to admit, it would have made a really great story.”

He laid the folded paper in her hand and replied

“That may be true. But it calls to mind a story my mother used to tell me about the finest liar in the world.”

Now that she had what she wanted, Freddie paid a little less attention to the tone of her response

“Oh really? Let me guess: he was found out and learned that the truth will set you free and they all lived happily ever after?”

Hannibal chuckled and Freddie wasn’t sure why but it made her feel like a rat in a trap

“No, the only ending this man found was being bested by an even more skilled fraud. One day you may meet your match, Miss Lounds. I do wonder if you are prepared. The man in the story only lost his oat cake; Let us hope the liar you face is as merciful. ”

He nodded towards her car and the heavy chunk of the Bentley’s automatic door lock made her jump. She scrambled out of the car, clutching her bag tightly against her as she squeezed between the cinderblock wall and the hood of the Bentley. As soon as she was clear of the tires, Hannibal backed out of the alley and into the street .

He watched her until he turned back out onto the road, giving her a wave and a friendly smile as he drove away.

Freddie stood alone in the alley, trying to tell herself the slight tremble in her fingers was from the adrenaline of getting close to a good story, and not because something in the older man’s eyes had triggered her fight or flight response. She sighed and shoved her hands into the pockets of her bright green coat. As soon as the edge of the paper she had tightly clenched in her fist brushed against the mouth of the pocket, she remembered the goldmine it contained.

Actual notes from the Shrike Jr.’s shrink. My editor Phil is gonna shit bricks.

She plunged her key into the lock, tumbling into the driver’s seat and relocking the door behind her before she dared to look at the folded piece of thick, high-quality paper.

She stared at the page in her hands for a few moments before she realized what she was looking at.

“Son of a bitch…..”

The page was blank, save for a sketch of Will in the lower right hand corner and the note Hannibal had added before he handed it to her.

Some advice Miss Lounds: your current photographer does a laughably poor job of capturing a flattering angle of Mr. Graham. I would recommend finding his replacement.

Yours,

Dr. Hannibal Lecter

Chapter Text

Will had felt it since they had stepped foot on the GWU campus: a gnawing discomfort, an anxiety simmering away on the back burner of his mind making it impossible to focus on anything else for fear of it boiling over if left unattended. 

He hadn’t felt it on the drive over the river or even as they settled into the rental house Hannibal had insisted they take to make things feel even more like a fun weekend getaway; but the moment he had seen Phillips Hall with its high mirrored tower, he had felt a nearly overwhelming urge to scream. 

Luckily Abigail hadn’t noticed the shift in his mood. She was too focused on their tour guide: Hayley, with her long blonde hair and wide smile. She nodded intently while the girl pointed out historic buildings and listed the university’s many accolades, leaving the men to trail a few feet behind them. 

Hannibal, however, had definitely noticed. The pained expression, fingers fluttering inside his jacket pocket, and sheen of sweat around his hair line all signaling an imminent meltdown. He slipped his hand into Will’s pocket and grabbed his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze to calm the frantic stimming.

Will gave a small jump when he felt Hannibal’s cool skin against his. He flashed the older man a weary smile and interrupted him before he could say anything about how terrible he looked.

“Listen, you and Abigail go on with the tour. We passed the security office a few minutes back. I think I’m gonna see if anyone’s home, get some information about what the detail here looks like. Maybe it’ll put my mind at ease.”

Hannibal smiled softly at him, but his eyes held a sadness that made Will feel burdensome

“Our little girl is growing up, it’s enough to make even the most stalwart feel a pang of anxiety. Especially because we know that her challenges will vary vastly from those of her peers. “

His hand slid up and settled at Will’s elbow as he held him out at arm’s length to study him. He cocked his head and gave a small hum of dissatisfaction.

“Perhaps we should return to the rental, you look a bit worse for wear.”

He pulled Will in closer as he spoke and pressed a soft kiss onto his forehead, 

“I could draw you a bath and you could rest for the remainder of the evening. We can always finish the tour tomorrow. I’m sure Abigail wouldn’t object to having another reason to spend a day with our tour guide.”

A sly smile stretched his lips as he nodded over his shoulder to the two girls; the blonde talking animatedly about her life on campus while the redhead watched with rapt attention.

Will shook his head and leaned his forehead against Hannibal’s cheek before he thought better about it. He gave a shaky sigh and leaned into the older man’s strong frame.

“No. No, I don’t want to ruin everyone else’s day. You guys do the rest of the tour. I’ll just head back to the house. Make up some excuse that sounds believable for me will you? I just…need a minute to stop feeling like my legs are gonna give out.”

The sudden closeness caught Hannibal by surprise; Will wasn’t typically comfortable with public displays, preferring to contain his physical affection to the privacy and safety of their home. His hand hovered at his lower back for a few moments, afraid that touching him might cause him to reconsider their proximity. But before he could decide whether to pull him in closer or be satisfied with the contact he was being gifted, Will was straightening up and giving him another tired smile.

He walked off through the quad, hands shoved in his pockets and a small sweat damp patch starting to blossom through his pants at the back of his right knee. Hannibal watched the thin man until he turned a corner and was fully out of sight.

Hannibal had a nagging feeling that he knew the name of the ghost that was bedeviling his poor pigeon. He wondered if coming back here had been a good idea after all and his fingers began to drum absently at his thigh as he began planning delicate ways to breach the conversation with Will once he made it back to his side.

“Where’d Will go?” 

Hannibal had nearly forgotten about Abigail. Turning his mind back to the present and slipping into the TV Dad suit he had borrowed from his anxious lover he addressed both girls.

“It seems our friend had quite a fitful night of sleep that has finally caught up with him. He’s decided to head back to the rental to recuperate in time for dinner. I believe he heard young Miss Hayley laud the local dining options and realized he didn’t want to miss out.”

The girls smiled, and Abigail playfully rolled her eyes

“I guess you’re stuck with us then, Dr. Lecter. Think you can keep up?” Hayley quipped as she nudged Abigail in the side with an elbow. Hannibal had to stop himself from grinning as he noticed the warmth creeping up Abigail’s cheeks.

He held his hands out palms up and shrugged

“An old man can do nothing but try his best. Please, lead the way.”

By the time the tour group had made their way to the library, Will was pushing his key into the lock of the rental house. The security office had been empty, a worrying occurrence that did nothing to ease his anxiety. As he struggled against the unfamiliar doorknob, he had to stop and shake the tremble out of his hand. He forced out a slow, trembling breath and  pushed against the door with a shoulder, nearly falling into the foyer as the door finally gave way.  

He pulled the heavy wooden door shut behind him and leaned against it for a few moments, eyes closed trying to ignore the slight spin in his vision. The silence of the house was thick, unpunctuated by the soft click of dog’s claws on hardwood or gentle swish of furry tails against pant legs. 

He opened his eyes and scanned the room for somewhere to collapse; as soon as he found the couch he lurched in its direction, falling over the arm and into its plush cushions. Hugging a throw pillow, Will rolled onto his side and grabbed the remote off the coffee table in front of him. He turned the tv on and aimlessly flipped through the channels before settling on a cooking show. 

He needed noise, a distraction. He needed to stop tasting his heart in his mouth.

He needed to get a grip.

He stared through the tv, trying his best to focus on the pasta dish that was being prepared instead of the tight panicky feeling in his chest. He gripped the throw pillow and tried to breathe through whatever was happening to him. Will closed his eyes and tried to soothe himself, speaking soft and low, using the same tone Hannibal would have in the situation.

“You’re fine. There’s nothing here that can hurt you. No- no one is here that can hurt you. Just breathe….j-just breathe…. Just breathe……”

Will curled into a tight crescent around the throw pillow in his arms, whispering to himself until he drifted off into fevery unconsciousness. 

He didn’t even realize he was dreaming until he recognized the carpeting under his feet was from the hallway of his dorm from freshman year. Suddenly he was 19; he had a box tucked close against his chest, he was self-conscious and uncomfortable in his homemade ace bandage binder. He wanted to go home; he wished he had a home to go home to. 

Without taking another step, he was standing in front of his room. He reached into his pocket for his keys, shifting the box onto the opposite hip. When he looked up, the door was open, but the room was different than he remembered. 

He was inside now; everything felt familiar and foreign all at once, as if the memories had gone fuzzy around the edges with age. Posters on the walls seemed to melt and distort, their images twisting sinuously within their borders. The rug felt as if it were going to rise up and swallow him whole, like something was waiting to pull him down into the high piled shag fibers. 

The taste of blood in his mouth caught his attention; he had chewed through part of his lower lip without noticing. He pressed a fist to his mouth and turned to head for the hallway bathroom. When he opened the door, he crashed into something solid.

Some one solid

 He looked up from his feet to apologize but collapsed to the ground. He wanted to scream, but he wasn’t able to manage anything louder than a whisper.

‘No ….no no nonononono…” 

Will trailed off into a panicked whine as he scrambled backwards into the room. But there was no getting away, no escape. This wasn’t just a dream, it was a nightmare.

Of course his brain had conjured Alan Aimes to torment him; it had been doing it all day , why should it stop now just because he was asleep?

Alan stood in the doorway, staring down at him, a detached amusement playing over his features. He watched Will as he backed away from him, his eyes cold and hard. In a flicker of movement he was standing over him, grabbing him by the collar of his loose-fitting sweatshirt and pulling him up to his feet. 

Will squeezed his eyes closed, trying to force himself to wake up, to remind himself that this was just a dream. Then he heard a croak of a voice just on the other side of his eyelids. He turned away from the voice, struggling against the tight fisted grip on his shirt.

“ Wiiiiillllllll …..” The word warbled and waved as if the speaker was losing his voice in real time.

When you open your eyes, you’ll be awake. Just open your eyes and wake the fuck up!  Will reasoned to himself.

He opened his eyes slowly. But instead of the living room of the rental house, he was still in his dream, still in a dorm room. It had turned into Alan’s dorm now, this was always where his nightmares ended up. 

A part of him had never left that room.

This time when he heard the voice, it wasn’t able to say his name. He heard a watery moan and turned to face his attacker.

Will got his scream back when he saw that Alan didn’t have a face anymore; a rough wail that ripped through his throat. A shiny wet mess of blood and  muscle hung inches from his own face, the destroyed visage he had wrought on the man he had found tied to a chair in Kentucky. 

He pounded at the hands clenching his collar, struggled to pull away. But Alan pushed him backwards, and he fell for what felt like forever. He flailed wildly in the abyss, corkscrewing like a cat trying to land on his feet. 

But then he landed, flat on his stomach, his face plunging into the suffocating embrace of a polyfill pillow with no case. He tried to lift his head but found it shoved back into place by a large hand. A nauseating burst of panic flooded his guts. It felt so real, so sickeningly familiar. As if his brain had worked overtime to remember every detail he had tried so desperately to forget.

No, no… NO! Wake up, goddammit!

He bucked wildly against the weight bearing down on him, but it was no use. Another hand hooked into the back of his pants, hauling his hips up to shove a pillow underneath them. 

Will heard the jingle of a belt buckle behind him, felt his jeans being roughly pulled down. He could feel the singe of raw chafed skin on his hips. He had felt this then, too. He just hadn’t noticed until the next morning when the water in the shower had scalded the burns.

This isn’t real. This isn’t happening again. Stop remembering and wake up, you asshole!

Alan’s hamburger face was tucked low beside his ear now. He moaned against his cheek, dragging his stump of a tongue along Will’s jaw, smearing tacky cold blood into his skin. It almost sounded like Alan was trying to talk to him now, a rumbling gurgle that vibrated through his chest into Will’s spine, filling and hollowing him out all at the same time.

In an instant, he felt hands, vicelike and cold grabbing his wrists, pulling them backwards to push his face even further into the pillow. He was powerless under the weight of the monster on top of him. Hot tears blurred his vision. How long had he been crying? He had cried the first time, but it hadn’t saved him then, either.

“Will, my love. Let me see your face.”

The voice had regained form, but it wasn’t a creature’s bestial wail anymore. Will shook his head furiously, thrashing against the pillow and blinking hard, begging any god who might be listening to let him wake up.

This time, when he opened his eyes, he saw the beautiful face of the only god who had ever answered his cries for help. 

Hannibal leaned over him, knelt on the floor beside him, his brow creased with worry.  When he noticed his lover’s eyes focus on him, he breathed a small sigh of relief before busying himself with the task of soothing the frantic man.

He shushed Will and spoke to him softly as he smoothed sweat damped curls back off his forehead.

“You’re safe, love. You are here with me, in the rental house in D.C. You were having one of your rather nasty nightmares. You aren’t there anymore, you’re safe now.”

He paused for a beat before adding

“He can't harm you again, Will. We’ve seen to that.”

Will stared at him, whale-eyed and gasping for breath. He tore his gaze from Hannibal’s to scan the room and confirm the information he was being given. The tv was still on, the show’s host cheerfully instructing viewers how to select the perfect honeydew melon, and he was gripping the same throw pillow tightly to his chest. 

He didn’t remember it being covered in blood, though. 

Confused, he turned back to Hannibal and tried to ask what had happened, but all he could manage was a raspy whimper. A familiar sad look filled the older man’s eyes. He reached into his suit jacket’s inner breast pocket to produce a handkerchief and pressed it to Will’s lower lip. When he pulled it back, it was reddened with blood.

“It seems in your distress, you’ve injured yourself. Nothing too serious, but you do look a fright with all that blood on your face. If you feel able to move, I can help you clean up before Abigail comes in.”

Hearing her name brought Will to attention. He sat up straight, his head snapping towards the door. 

“Where is she? Where’s Abigail, Hannibal?”

The older man grabbed his shoulder, squeezing it just tightly enough to get his focus and keep him from spiraling back to wherever he had just found him. He spoke in a low, soft voice

“She’s fine, pigeon. It seems Abigail and the tour guide had much more in common than they realized, including an affinity for caramel lattes. I left them in the safety of the well-lit campus cafe before I came home to you. She texted me as I was arriving, she should be returning shortly.”

Hannibal stood and held a hand out to help Will up. He stood slowly, leaning on his arm for support as they made their way to the hall bathroom. Hannibal steered him to the edge of the tub and sat him down before turning to grab a towel from the rack on the wall. He wet one corner before he knelt in front of the dazed man and began gingerly wiping the drying blood off his face.

Will could hardly look at him; a churning ocean of guilt and shame was roiling away within him. His vision blurred as tears welled in his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. Hannibal sat the towel on the edge of the tub beside him and placed a hand on his knee.

“Pigeon, I…….” He paused, seemingly uncharacteristically unsure of what to say next. Or perhaps he knew what to say, but was unsure of its helpfulness in the present moment. 

Will didn’t feel the need to rush him; he sat wordlessly, his shuddery breath shaking his frame, his eyes on the floor.

Hannibal ran his thumb over his lower lip for a few moments as he thought, then continued. 

“I know the monster that lurks in your nightmares. I know his name, I have seen his face. But only you carry the horror of what happened within you, and for that I am sorry. I wish for nothing more than to take this burden from you, to allow you to find the peace you deserve.

 I had hoped that my…. previous interjection into the situation may have granted you that,  but I fear I may have only made things worse. For that I will never forgive myself. Additionally, It was at my suggestion that we have returned here, which seems to have caused you nothing but grief. I have failed you most wretchedly, Will. I have no right to ask for your forgiveness, as I have had none in the past. But I do hope you can find it in your heart to realize that I have only ever wanted happiness for you, even if my attempts to provide that happiness have been clumsy or ill-advised.”

Will’s brow knitted and he finally met Hannibal’s gaze

“Why are you apologizing? You saved me. I’m the one who should be apologizing, I have someone who cares enough to put up with all my crazy bullshit and I can’t even keep a lid on it for a weekend because I saw a building? A coffee shop that I went to when I was a kid ?”

He laughed ruefully and grabbed the towel off the edge of the tub, roughly wiping at a patch of dried blood on his neck

“It’s embarrassing, pussy shit. I’m a grown ass man, and I’m letting some mother fucker who -”

The words died in his throat before he was even sure what they had been. How would he describe Alan now? Which collision with that monster had caused him the most damage? 

His betrayal? His rape? His murder?  

Will had survived a national tragedy and evangelical hatred but the thing he was having nightmares about was a 5”6’ blonde man with a thinning crown. It was humiliating.

Hannibal seemed to know exactly what he was trying to say, placing his hand over Will’s to stop him from scrubbing his skin raw. His voice was soft and sympathetic in a way that Will didn’t fully understand.

“My love, you never have to feel shame for what you have survived. Especially never for my sake. I know what it is to be haunted by those unworthy of your waking hours, let alone those hours that should be peaceful. Our darker days come and go from the chapels of our minds with little reason; I suppose that is the price of surviving them.”

He parted his lips to say more, but he was interrupted by the sound of the front door swinging open with a loud creak. 

Their little girl was home.

Hannibal gave him a gentle smile as he took the towel from him to finish cleaning him up.

“But we have something those bastards could never have, could never take from us in a thousand years, no matter what they put us through.”

Will cocked his head curiously and Hannibal answered without the question needing to be asked

“We haven’t become them, and we won’t. No matter what, we’ll keep each other from it. Our love will keep the others from it.”

Chapter Text

Hayley

Abigail wasn’t sure why she had asked her to grab a coffee with her at the campus cafe, but she was more than a little grateful when Hannibal had declined to join them. He had simply given her one of his mysterious little smiles and excused himself, saying something about going back to check on Will.

Once they had their drinks, they sat in a sunny corner booth to talk. In truth, Hayley had done most of the talking; she spoke excitedly about her sorority and all the classes she was taking and how much fun she was having in her volunteer tour guide role. 

“I just love it so much, I get to meet all these families and see the dorky parents doting on their kids.” She took a deep swig of her coffee before continuing, waving her free hand like she was shooing a fly to show she had more to say.

“It’s actually super adorable. Like… your dads are so cute. You can tell they are, like, freaking out about you leaving home. Were they like this with your siblings or are you the first one to fly the coop?”

Abigail choked on her latte, the question catching her off guard. She gave a small cough to clear her throat before she answered

“Ummm, no. It’s- it’s just me. Just the three of us, I mean. And I just moved in a few months ago, so I guess all of it’s pretty new for both of them.”

Hayley wrinkled her nose with confusion and pursed her lips, considering which of the hundred questions that statement had provided her with to ask first. The expression only served to make her more attractive; Abigail could feel her pale cheeks flushing and looked away quickly, staring down into the foam on the top of her cup.

Finally, Hayley broke the silence, clicking her tongue with displeasure and softly exclaiming

“ Oh my god… Of course.”

Abigail snapped her gaze up, suddenly terrified that her worst fear had come true: she had been recognized as Garret’s daughter. She opened her mouth to start defending herself when Hayley interrupted her.

“ I am such an idiot for not realizing it sooner. You’re adopted! It makes sense though, a couple like your dads; well-off but never made time for kids. Now that they have the time, they don’t have the joints to keep up with a toddler.  I mean, I kind of thought the younger guy was your bio dad at least; You both have such gorgeous blue eyes.”

Abigail wasn’t sure what had taken her more by surprise, the rambling rationalization, how incorrect it was or the fact that a beautiful girl had said her eyes were gorgeous.

She decided to accept all three and nodded without correcting her.

“Uh ,yeah, a lot of people think that, but no, there’s no relation. Just lucky, I guess. Makes it easier to blend in.”

Hayley’s wide grin fell and she reached across the table, grabbing Abigail’s hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Oh my god, we totally don’t even have to talk about it at all if you don’t want to. I’m sure it’s been such a huge change, going from……well, whatever your life was before to what it is now.”

She gave a sheepish grin and Abigail felt like the sun was shining on her face, warming her all the way through. She couldn’t help but smile back. 

She could have talked to this girl for hours, if she was ever able to get more than a few words in edgewise. But she supposed that was what was nice about Hayley. She was so effervescent and full of life. Like a break in the clouds after a storm; a chance that all the darkness could clear away, if only for an hour or two.

She was about to ask Hayley about her family, anything to keep getting to listen to her talk, when the blonde seemed distracted by something just over Abigail’s shoulder. Her big brown eyes widened as she read the clock that was hanging just above the cash register.  

“Oh shit, I am so late!”

She released Abigail’s hand to grab her coffee and chug its contents. Their eyes met, and the blue saw the disappointment in the brown.

“I hate this but I am so late for this thing I have to do, I have to go.”

Her face brightened again, disappointment flying from her countenance as suddenly as it had appeared.

“Buuuut….” she started in a playful singsong, “ The thing I have to do is help the girls get ready for this big party we're throwing tonight that you should totally come to!”

The idea both thrilled and terrified her. Abigail sipped her coffee and tugged at the high collar of her sweater.

“Is that okay? I wouldn’t want to crash your party, besides, I’m not even a student here yet. Is that allowed? I know sororities can have pretty strict rules-”

Hayley rolled her eyes and smiled, waving her hands at her concerns. She stood suddenly and slid into the opposite side of the booth next to Abigail, pulling her phone out of her back pocket.

“We’re allowed to bring one guest, so as long as you’re with me, you’re golden. Let me just get your picture so I can show it to the frat guy that's working the door so he knows to let you in. Now smile!”

She held her phone out in front of them at arm’s length while she wrapped the other arm around Abigail’s back to pull her closer, her hand settling on her hip. Their cheeks were nearly touching and she was sure that Hayley could feel the heat of her blush. Abigail did her best impression of a casual smile while she tried to ignore the way her head was swimming from the girl’s touch, the warm smell of her vanilla perfume, and the way her wavy blonde hair brushed against her neck.

The camera’s shutter sounded bringing her back to earth and much to her disappointment , she felt the hand leave her hip as it flew to the keyboard of the phone to compose a message to accompany the picture. 

“There we go…. Aaaand , sent!” She turned to Abigail with a wide grin that crinkled the corners of her eyes. “Now you’re in, and now I have to go!” 

She  leaned over the table to grab her bag before sliding out of the booth.

Tugging the strap of her crossbody bag over her head, she started to head for the door before she stopped and turned back to Abigail. She scanned her head to toe, appraising her 

“ I almost forgot, make sure to wear something cute. Not that this sweater isn’t totally your color, but I’m gonna need you to show a little more skin. Us Kappas have a reputation for throwing the hottest parties with the hottest girls. I know you won’t let me down.” Abigail nodded wordlessly; Hayley winked and blew her a kiss before rushing out the door. 

If she hadn't been sitting down, Abigail was sure her knees would have given out.

She leaned against the booth’s cushioned seat back and let go of a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. She tried to distract herself with a sip of her coffee, but her head was firmly in the clouds. She touched her side; she could still feel the heat of the hand that had rested just above her hip. 

She wanted more.

Her own hand made its way to her neck, subconsciously covering the scar that was hidden by her collar. The thought hadn’t surprised her, but the freedom with which she had given herself not only to think it, but to believe that it could become a reality, did. She had never allowed herself to feel something like this, think these kinds of thoughts. They had always felt dangerous, felt like she was putting others in peril simply by allowing them to occupy space in her mind. 

What if Garrett had found them there? Made her show him what she found so intriguing about them? Made her watch, or even help, as he took them apart? 

The thought of her father soured the coffee in her mouth. She spit the lukewarm liquid back into the cup and stood quickly, banging her knee against the table in front of her. The rattle of the ceramic cup turned the head of the barista behind the counter, and Abigail could feel her cheeks burning with embarrassment.  Head bowed low, she quickly made her way to the exit, tossing a few extra crumpled dollars into the tip jar as she passed. 

She pulled her phone from her pocket and quickly composed a text to Hannibal

Headed back now, should be about 10-15 mins. Walking across campus

She shoved the device back in her pocket and looked around to get a bearing on her surroundings. She oriented herself with the help of the tall gleaming tower of the science buildings and headed in the direction of the house Hannibal had rented, a sensible off-campus accommodation typically rented by visiting families or rich kids looking to impress a date with somewhere to cut loose that crucially did not fall under the security office’s purview.

As she walked, she caught herself thinking not only of Hayley, but of all the possibilities a place like this might hold for her.

She had never been allowed to grow, to change, to find out who she might be outside of the shadow of her father and the terrible, bloodsoaked past that her last name had bound her to. Maybe college would be a chance for a fresh start, a start she would no longer have to pay for with a body; hers or anyone else’s.

The idea was thrilling and terrifying all at once. 

As she walked, she watched the other people around her, studying them as closely as she could without staring. Students hustling to class, arms laden with books and faces full of life. Could she fit in with these people? Would she be able to become something resembling a normal member of society, something like all the other students whose biggest concerns were whether or not they would get a date or be able to stave off doing laundry until they went back home for a weekend visit?

Home

The word used to fill her with dread, now she wasn’t quite sure how to describe the emotion it made her feel. She was glad to have found a safe, soft place to land with Will and Hannibal;  even if the former still seemed to be as ill at ease as the first time they spoke in that hospital room in Minnesota, and the latter , though softening into their newfound domesticity, still seemed to be hiding something from all of them. 

At least she knew that they wouldn’t look at her with disgust when she told them that a pretty girl had touched her hand or invited her to a party. 

Maybe that was enough for now, Abigail thought. She didn’t need to have her life or her benefactors completely figured out. Maybe she could allow herself the same grace that she was sure every other person around her had taken for granted, she could be gentle with herself while she learned, not only in classes but about herself.

She could discover all the things that most others knew about themselves without giving a second thought, make decisions for herself without worrying if they would displease anyone.

She could finally, truly, be free. 

The thought stopped her in her tracks, causing a harried looking young man on a skateboard to swerve around her on his way through the courtyard. She gave a small wave of apology as he turned to shoot her a confused look. He adjusted the straps of his backpack, shaking his head as he pushed forward, the heavy wheels of his board clacking against the brickwork of the sidewalk as he rolled away.

Abigail tried to focus on where she was going, determining to try and think simpler thoughts until she was stationary and increased her pace towards the rental house. 

Fortunately for her, she could still feel the pressure and warmth of Hayley’s hand on her hip, smell her vanilla perfume and hear her musical voice; all these were a pleasant enough distraction to accompany her for the remainder of her walk.

“ I know you won’t let me down!” 

Abigail grinned, her cheeks warming as she skipped up onto the sidewalk in front of the rental house. As she dug in her bag to retrieve her keys, she realized something. 

She was being given an opportunity she had never been given before: the chance to live like every one of her peers, the chance to have fun without fear of reprisal. 

The chance to be normal. Finally

As she pushed her key into the lock she determined to herself that she wasn’t going to take this for granted. She wasn’t going to let Hayley or, more importantly herself, down.

Chapter Text

“Will, I have to go! I’m gonna be late enough already!”

Abigail rolled her eyes as she tugged on her shoes, strappy kitten heels that Hannibal had insisted she pack in case they decided to go out to one of the nicer restaurants in town. After a small amount of convincing on Will’s part, she had been given leave to go to the Kappa party, on the condition that she keep her phone on, along with its location service, the entire time she was gone. 

Will was standing in the doorway of the foyer, watching her with a worried crease in his brow and a tumbler of scotch pressed against his cheek.

“I just want to make sure you’re gonna be safe. Sorry if that cramps your style.”

He held up a hand defensively, the ice in his glass clinking softly with the movement.

She slid the final faux leather strap onto her ankle and stood to appraise herself in a scalloped mirror that hung over the bench she had been sitting on. 

She wore a goldenrod cropped turtleneck tank top with a pleated plaid skirt. The top had been purchased on a recent shopping trip with Hannibal, but the skirt was an item she had picked up years ago and never had the confidence to wear. She had thrown it into her suitcase on a whim, but now she was glad she had something a bit more party appropriate than her regular assortment of jeans or basketball shorts.

She smoothed her hair and blew a shaky breath out of her pursed lips. She hated how anxious she was. 

It’s just a party, she tried to reason with herself. A college party, full of people you might be stuck with for at least the next four years and one girl you want to impress more than anything.

She groaned softly and sat back down on the bench to slip the shoes off.

“Maybe I’ll just stay here. I look like I’m trying too hard, anyways.”

“Is it possible that nerves and uncomfortable footwear are getting the best of you?”

She looked up to see that Hannibal had joined them. He was standing behind Will, his chin resting on the younger man’s shoulder and his arms laced low around his waist.

He nodded towards the Doc Martins that sat next to the front door. 

“ I think the boots would look rather nice, lend the outfit a casual air while still giving you the height of the heel. This way, you’ll still have a few inches on your friend, what was her name again?”

Will turned his head to examine Hannibal’s face with amusement, laughing softly before taking a sip off his tumbler. He looked back to Abigail and nodded in agreement.

“He’s the fashion expert, so if he says it works, I’d trust him. Just make sure you grab some thick socks, though. Nothing kills a fun night out faster than a blister.”

She nodded and headed to her room, slipping out of her heels as she went.

Will gave another chuckle before delivering a playful elbow back into Hannibal’s ribs.

“You’re way too comfortable with all this, it’s making me look like an asshole.”

The hard exhalation of the older man’s laugh warmed the back of his neck, followed by a soft kiss.

“You must remember my dear, had her circumstances been happier, social outings like this would be humdrum. She’s a young adult now and soon to be a college student; most of her peers are already well-versed in the arts of beer pong and the Limbo. I think it’s well and truly time that she be allowed to act her age; make mistakes and have fun, like any other girl.”

Will leaned his head back to nuzzle his cheek against Hannibal’s and sighed.

“ I know, I know. Fuck, she deserves it. I just worry…… I just want her to be safe.”

He pressed his lips against his jaw, and sighed again into his skin.

Hannibal wrapped his arms around him a little tighter

“Our Abigail may have suffered numerous injustices in this life, but she has also reaped the benefit of knowing what danger looks like and how to protect herself from it, should the unsavory situation present itself. And she always has us, just a phone call away.”

He angled his head to look at Will and added, a grin starting to stretch his lips

“Or as I suspect you’ll be tempted to do, checking her location every few minutes.”

Will rolled his eyes

“Alright, alright. I get it, you’re the fun guy and I’m the stick in the mud.”

He turned within the older man’s arms and draped his own around his neck, the condensation on the outside of his tumbler lightly dampening his oxford collar. Hannibal chuckled and tutted

“Oh, don’t sell yourself short, my love. You can be quite convivial when the mood strikes you.”

He untwined his hands to grab Will’s jaw, this thumb softly stroking the cleft in his chin; the other hand settling on his hip. He studied his face for a moment, then with a contented hum, pulled him in closer for a deep kiss.

Will melted into his arms, sagging against his frame and pressing his hips tightly against his lover’s.

The thuds of Abigail’s footsteps coming towards them brought them back to reality, separating and straightening glasses as she rounded the corner. She gave a small snicker when she noticed Hannibal running a large palm over his hair to smooth back the ashy locks, but said nothing. 

She sat on the foyer bench and started to lace up her boots, addressing both men casually, even though she could feel the anxiety beginning to creep into her words.

“Okay, I’m gonna go before I’m too late. I’ll try to be back before midnight, and I’ll be quiet when I come back in so I don’t wake you guys up.”

Will sighed and started to speak but stopped, draining his tumbler to silence himself. He and Hannibal exchanged a meaningful look and the older man nodded before turning to Abigail.

“For our peace of mind, especially Will’s, we would prefer it if you would allow one of us to collect you when the night is through. “

Abigail started to protest, but Hannibal silenced her with a raised hand

“At the very least, promise that you’ll keep it in mind. It would be of little inconvenience to either of us. No matter what you may believe, we are not pensioners who will be retiring to our bedchamber the moment the clock strikes eight.” 

She gave her laces a final tightening tug and looked up at the men. They both watched her, one with a furrowed brow and blue eyes tinted with his own anxiety and the other with a curious amusement flickering across his expression. 

She was suddenly reminded of something Hayley had said earlier that day

Your dads are so cute. You can tell they are, like, freaking out…..

She had to stop herself from laughing, the girl had been right

It’s their first time doing all this, too. They’re just as nervous as you are 

She nodded and gave them a warm smile

“Okay, okay. If it’s really dark and late I’ll give you a call. But I should be totally fine, I promise! It’s just a party, and it’s only a ten minute walk, and I have my phone and my pepper spray.”

She stood and clapped one hand on one of each man’s shoulders, giving them both a bolstering squeeze and another smile.

“We’re all gonna be okay. Try not to worry, even though I know you will. And speaking of Will..”

She gave Hannibal a conspiratorial grin

“Do your best to keep him from obsessing over Find my Friends the whole night.”

Will shrugged off her hand and rolled his eyes

“Woooow, I’m getting it from all sides now. Good to know I’m always gonna be outnumbered.”

Abigail dissolved into wheezy laughter and Hannibal slipped an arm around Will’s waist to pull him closer. He kissed his crown before addressing Abigail, his temple resting against his dark curls

“Go have your fun. Be sure to give our regards to young Miss Hayley.”

He gave her a wink and nodded towards the door, giving her permission not to worry about them anymore. 

With a final check in the scalloped mirror, she was gone. Will watched her through the stained glass sidelights until her wobbly silhouette disappeared into the distance. He sighed and laid his head on Hannibal’s shoulder.

“How are you so much better at this than I am?”

Hannibal hummed in response, a confused little sound. Will continued

“You’ve had the same amount of time on the job as me and you’re already, like, world’s best girl dad. She trusts you more than me, I can tell. At least, she seems more at ease around you. I think I fucked up, I just don’t know how.”

Hannibal thought for a moment, then reaching up to twist one of his curls replied

“ I think the fault does lie with you, but our young friend holds her share of the blame as well.”

He felt Will stiffen slightly at the statement, but continued

“I think you both have the unfortunate burden of having seen the other at their very worst. You carry within you that poor injured child, gasping and bleeding on the kitchen floor; and she shoulders the burden of knowing what it feels like to have carried you, limp and lifeless to the car and rush you to the hospital, mere moments from death. Both are exceptionally onerous albatrosses to wear.”

He took the empty glass from Will’s hand and set it on the arm of the bench. He turned the younger man to face him, taking both his hands in his. He studied him for a moment, his dark eyes sweeping over his face like he was trying to memorize every detail.

When he spoke again, his voice was low and gentle

“You both hide so much of yourselves, for fear of hurting the other or fear of being hurt, I can’t be sure. But you have to start trusting yourselves and each other to be the wondrously complex human beings I can see you both to be. You have to allow yourselves to let go of the pain of your pasts and embrace the possibilities that lie in a future you can shape together. “

He trailed a hand up Will’s arm and settled it on his neck to weave the fingers into the tangle of curls that lay there.

He ran his tongue along his lower lip and he laughed, suddenly but softly, as if he had just realized how to make the most sense for his current audience.

“While I can admit that it may not be the most elegant metaphor, it may be the most apt in your case. “

Will tilted his head curiously, but didn’t interrupt.

“You have a long history of rescuing those you see yourself in, those you find in less-than-ideal conditions, and yet you have never given a second thought to your treatment of them. You clean them up, give them the opportunity to assimilate into your life without ever reminding them of their pasts; instead you honor them, give them dignity by acknowledging that while some scars may stay with us long after we have escaped our pasts, they no longer have the power to hold us there, to make us into what those who gave them to us intended for us to become.”

Hannibal was quiet for a moment, almost like he was waiting for Will to realize who he was talking about. When all he was met with was a quizzical furrowed brow, he offered the answer.

“You have a much easier time forgiving the pasts of your dogs than you do Abigail’s or even your own. Perhaps because you still carry the fear that you are responsible, at least partially, for her suffering. While I don’t think our young friend would appreciate the comparison...."

He pulled Will in close and planted a kiss on his wrinkled forehead before continuing

“You’ve cleaned her up, given her a safe place to land. Now you have to give yourself permission to move forward, forgive yourself for whatever trespasses you believe yourself to have committed, and allow the both of you to grow and discover each other; learn to trust, together.”

Will started to protest, but he was stilled by Hannibal’s fingertips on his lips

“I know it’s hard, pigeon. But it’s all a part of loving someone. You have to hurt and be hurt, forgive and forget. You have to be open as well as allow for the openness of others, no matter what it may bring or cause you to feel. I know you can do it; in allowing Abigail to forget, perhaps you can learn to allow it for yourself.”

“Much like you did for your precious canines, you just have to show her, and yourself, a little softness. 

Everything else will fall into place.”

He kissed him again, warm and full, on the lips, and Will, finally glad for the emptiness of the house, kissed him back.

Chapter Text

Abigail could feel the music before she could really make it out; the nearly imperceptible vibration of heavy electronic music seemed to crackle through the air as she made her way across the campus, now only lit by the occasional lamppost or unshaded office window.

She clutched the strap of her bag tightly, partly as a precaution warranted by walking alone at night, but mostly as a way to keep her anxious hands occupied.

The Kappa Kappa Gamma sorority house was hard to miss. An impressive three-story antebellum with big columns and Greek letters out front, and a spacious, well-manicured lawn decorated with oversized deck chairs for the sister’s tanning sessions. There was a wide, wrap-around porch that was filled with students, their hands occupied with red plastic cups, other partygoers and the occasional cigarette, their glowing ends bobbing in the darkness like fireflies.

Abigail took her place at the back of a group of young women that were queuing to enter the house, and she could feel her palms beginning to dampen. She rubbed them on her skirt, internally chastising herself as she inched along up the walk and onto the porch.

When she made it to the front of the line, the bored looking frat boy who was playing bouncer sat up straight when he saw her, pointing at her with a snap.

“Yo! You’re Hayley’s friend, right?”

Taken back, Abigail stuttered out a reply

“Uh.. y-yeah. Yeah, Hayley invited me. It’s still cool for me to come in, right?”

The boy’s cheeks dimpled with a goofy grin that immediately made her suspect that his red plastic cup held more than fruit juice.

“Totally, man! Get in there! Any friend of a Kappa is a friend of mine!”

He gave her a thumbs up with one hand and waved her inside with the other as he held his cup between his teeth. 

The party had seemed loud from the porch, but once she stepped through the door, the volume inside the house nearly overwhelmed her. 

 The stereo system in the corner of the room was blaring out electronic music, and everyone around her seemed to be competing to see who could talk loudly enough to drown it all out. A thin haze of smoke floated through the room, a blend of nicotine, cannabis and flavored vapes, making her eyes water. She made her way to the one empty corner of the main room, a small alcove near the hallway that was decorated with framed pictures of all the Kappa sisters from years past. She pressed against the wall to allow a couple to pass, her overstimulated senses battling to see which was the most offended.    

As she stood there, trying to hear her own thoughts, one made itself loud enough to be distinguished 

She made sure they knew you, knew you were coming. She wants you to be here. 

Abigail couldn’t help but grin, the thought bolstering her flagging confidence. She scanned the room, looking for Hayley, but couldn’t find her in the sea of blondes. But she did spot a cluster of heavy duty plastic tubs ,presumably filled with ice and cans, on the opposite side of the room. Steeling herself with a deep breath, she plunged into the crowd, buffeting off dancing bodies as she made her way towards the refuge of free beer.

The ice in the buckets was already half melted, leaving the remaining cans to bob in the slush; a chill ran through her as she retrieved one, icy water clinging to her skin as she grabbed a beer and cracked it open. She took a long swig, nose crinkling at the taste; it was the sort of flat, water beer that populates all basement parties, fraternity dos, and other assorted collections of underage drinkers. Nothing outwardly offensive, but if the person who had procured the alcohol had been able to do so with the added benefit of tasting experience or legality, they would have made a much better choice. 

But, Abigail supposed, anything to help you get the braves is better than having to navigate alone. 

As she stood, swirling the remaining half of the beer in its thin cheap can, she heard a loud squeal from behind her and felt the weight of someone crashing into her back. The can fell from her hand, beer fizzing out onto the floor and quickly soaking into a nearby throw rug. She whipped around to give whatever drunk asshole was plastered against her spine a piece of her mind , but she turned to pink cheeked putty when she felt arms snaking around her waist and saw Hayley’s face beaming up into hers.

The girl gave her a wide grin and nuzzled her face against her shoulder

“You made it! I’ve been looking for you!” she ducked her head close by Abigail’s ear and yelled above the music, squeezing her ribs with a slightly over-enthusiastic hug; It was immediately obvious that Hayley was already a few drinks ahead of her. 

Abigail returned the hug with a smaller, more reserved embrace, patting her lightly on the back

“Yeah, I just got here. I was-”

She was cut off by Hayley dropping to her knees to fish two beers out of the bucket behind her. She pushed a dripping can into her hand and opened one for herself, chugging half the can in a single swig. Abigail watched her,  impressed bemusement stretching her lips into a grin. Hayley noticed she was being watched and wiped her chin with her forearm

“Well, come on! Don’t make me drink alone, catch up!”

She prodded the can in Abigail’s hand and raised an eyebrow playfully, her cheeks dimpling. Abigail felt a whirlwind of butterflies in her stomach, and the butterflies really wanted to impress this beautiful girl who was egging her on.

She rolled her eyes and popped her second beer can of the night

“Alright, I guess I can’t let you do that.” She tilted the can back, draining ⅔ of the can before looking back to Hayley. The blonde clapped and gave a small whoop that was nearly drowned out by the dropping beat of the heavy electro that was blaring overhead.

She leaned in and said something, maybe it was a question? Abigail couldn’t be sure. She furrowed her brow and shook her head.

 Hayley leaned in again, this time grabbing her by the waist and pulling her in close. Her lips brushed against her ear, and the heat of her liquor sweetened breath pricked goosebumps on her arms, even in the nearly oppressive heat of the room.  

“I said, ‘Do you want to dance with me?’”

Abigail felt her knees give a slight wobble, but she still nodded.

“Yeah, lead the way!” 

Hayley grabbed her hand, lacing her fingers in hers and pulled her towards the tangle of bodies in the center of the room. The heavy thrum of the music continued to pulse like an erratic heartbeat, not too dissimilar to the one hammering behind Abigail’s ribs.

But instead of stopping on the improvised dance floor, she continued tugging Abigail along behind her as she squeezed through the crowd towards the stairs. She looked back and flashed a smile then led her up the stairs and turned into the first room on the second floor. 

Once they were inside, Hayley pushed the door shut. Abigail took a few steps into the room, sat her beer and purse on the desk on the far wall, then turned and finally asked

“I thought the party was downstairs?”

Hayley pressed her forehead to the door and rolled to face her, sly grin carving into her cheeks

“The boring one, yeah. I thought it would be more fun if we had one of our own up here. That way I don’t have to worry about anyone getting jealous and trying to cut in.”

Abigail scrunched her nose, confused by Hayley and the curious pit that was forming in her stomach. 

Why was she suddenly so anxious, and why was the feeling so familiar? 

Hayley held out a hand , fingers flexing and reaching for her, and Abigail, nerves fraying or not, couldn’t help but be struck dumb by the sight.

 Her sandy waves were pinned up in a loose bun, but a few strands at the back had fallen loose; they hung on her neck, draping over her bare shoulders and the shelf of her collarbones. The gossamer fabric of her top clung to her form, its plunging neckline revealing glitter coated, sun kissed skin and the tops of her toned thighs were only barely covered by the suggestion of a pair of shorts.  Her eyeliner had smudged slightly, but instead of making her look unkempt, it simply gave her makeup a smoky effect that accented her deep brown eyes, making them even harder to look away from. 

Her lips and cheeks were flushed pink from the heat and excitement of the evening, but not makeup. She tilted her can back, draining its remains and tossing it in the direction of a small trash can, a fat drop of beer rolling down from the corner of her mouth to settle in the valley between her ample breasts.  She ran her tongue along her lower lip then bit softly on its corner.

Fuck, she is so pretty 

Abigail felt a pull deep within her, bringing her across the room to weave her fingers with Hayley’s, but this time she was the one to bring the other girl in close. Her free hand sliding around her waist, she started dancing with her.

She led Hayley, doing her best impression of the slow swaying movements she could remember seeing Hannibal use to dance Will around the small kitchen in Wolf Trap. She hummed softly, the tune only interrupted by a small sound of surprise when Hayley laid her head on her shoulder and breathed a contented sigh. She hesitated for a moment, unsure of what she should do next. She lifted her hand off the small of Hayley’s back, suddenly self conscious of the contact.

 But when the blonde nuzzled in closer to her neck and tightened her grip around her waist, Abigail felt bold enough to rest her cheek on her golden crown.

“I’m glad I came tonight.” She chuckled lightly, “I almost didn’t.”

Hayley raised her head to look at her, eyes sparkling under the fairy lights that hung along the crown molding.

“I’m glad you did too.” The words were almost whispered as she leaned up on her toes to press a gentle kiss against Abigail’s lips.

Startled, Abigail pulled back. She searched Hayley’s face for a moment, sure she would find some hint of disgust or regret. When she found none, she kissed her back, full and deep. She released her waist and brought both her hands up to tenderly cradle her cheeks. She could feel Hayley’s hands drifting up to her back, fingers slipping under the hem of her shirt; the heat of their bare skin touching was enough to make her head spin. She stumbled, her focus solely on the lips against hers, and they fell back into a wall. The girls broke apart, giggling, and Abigail softly kissed Hayley’s head to soothe any injury. 

Grabbing her hand, Hayley led Abigail towards the bed on the other side of the room. Playfully , she pushed her back onto the mattress and slowly lowered herself to the ground in front of her to start unlacing her boots. Abigail propped herself up on her elbows to watch her, more than a little confused.

“Didn’t your mom ever tell you? No shoes on the bed.” She said with a grin as she finished her work and climbed up onto the bed along with Abigail. 

Or more accurately, on top of her.

She straddled a bare thigh as she leaned down to kiss her, bracing herself with a hand beside Abigail’s face and another on her stomach, the thumb beginning to hitch up the hem of her shirt. 

She moaned softly against her mouth as she slipped her tongue inside, Abigail matching the breathy noise as she suckled softly on its tip. 

Abigail's hands, which had been awkwardly balled at her sides, tentatively uncurled and found their place on Hayley’s hips as they rocked against her, causing a curious warmth to begin building in her stomach as well as a dampness in her cotton panties. Their tongues danced with the other for several moments, before Hayley leaned up and peeled out of her top, tossing it across the room without waiting to see where it landed; she wasn’t wearing a bra. 

Abigail sat up straight, her heart in her throat.

Hayley grabbed her hands and placed them to her bare skin. She threw her head back to the ceiling, a low moan escaping her lips as Abigail cupped her breasts and gently kissed her neck. Her lips skated over the jumping pulse of her carotid, trailing kisses along her neck and down to the hollow dip between her collarbones. She breathed her in deeply; she was all sweat and cheap beer and vanilla perfume. 

She would never find another smell quite this nice, she thought absently as she ran her thumbs over Hayley’s nipples in quick swipes, causing the girl to whine softly. 

“Lift your arms.” Hayley commanded in a whisper, and Abigail was more than happy to comply, even if it did mean she would have to stop touching her for at least a moment.

Slowly, almost reverently, Hayley lifted the hem of her shirt and tugged the snug collar of the turtleneck over her head and tossed it in the same direction as her shirt.  Abigail was now acutely aware of the ratty lace edge on her bra, but Hayley didn't seem to care. She smiled serenely at her as she lay her back on the bed, decorating her lips, cheeks and jawline with sloppy kisses. Abigail tensed under her when her soft lips at the raised edge of the scar on her neck.

Hayley looked up at her through her lashes, and said quietly

“We don’t have to talk about it, you know?” Then she quickly placed her lips to her neck where the deep purple line slashed across it before continuing down her body, leaving wet kisses on the skin between her breasts, on her ribs and her stomach. Abigail fought the urge to cry, ignoring the hot tears prickling the corners of her eyes.

For so long, her body had belonged to everyone but her, and now she was its sole owner.

Finally.

The hands that caressed her felt good, she wanted them to be there. The kisses didn’t seem to sour her flesh; even as Hayley made her way up her thighs, sucking rosy patches into the sensitive skin, she wanted even more.  She was more than a little overwhelmed, a tidal wave of emotions was roiling in her stomach, along with an undercurrent of arousal that threatened to completely derail her ability to form coherent thoughts.

But she needed to think, she needed to say something. Abigail wanted this more than anything, but she needed to be sure that Hayley was in a state to want it too. She knew the girl had been drinking, and Abigail knew from experience that alcohol could lead a person places they would never dream of ending up otherwise. She sat up on her elbows just as Hayley was ducking under her skirt, catching her off guard.

“Hey, wait for just a second. I ju- I wanted to…… “ She stammered, unsure of how to phrase herself.

Hayley propped her chin on her knee, rolling her eyes playfully

“What’s wrong? Is this your first time with a girl or something?”

Abigail wondered how honest she should be and settled on not completely 

“Umm, no. I mean , yeah. It’s….it’s my first time….  with anyone. “

All the color drained from Hayley’s face, her skin paling under her tan. She dropped the hem of Abigail’s skirt and stood up quickly, crossing her arms over her chest. Seeming to realize how extreme her reaction had been, she flashed her an uneasy smile as she grabbed a silk kimono off the back of the nearby desk chair.

“Um, wow. No, that’s- that’s cool. That’s… wow. It’s fine. I just-”

She looked towards the door then back to Abigail quickly

“I- uh…. I’m not feeling too hot. I think I had too much to drink. I’m gonna…I’m gonna go to the bathroom really quick.” She started towards the door, wrapping the kimono around her. She was halfway out the door when she turned back to the girl on the bed, holding up a hand, almost defensively

“Just wait here”

And with that she was gone. 

After a few seconds of staring at the closed door, Abigail flopped back onto the mattress, blowing out a mouthful of air.

Well, I guess you killed the mood. Time to call it and let her get on with her night.

She stood up quickly, lightly slapping her cheeks twice to sober herself up and began scanning the room to locate her shirt. Once she found it, hanging off the knob of the closet door, she tugged it over her head and grabbed her bag. She pulled out her phone and started to tap a message into it, then deleted it. She sighed and looked around the room, listening against the music thumping beneath her, trying to discern if any of the footfalls in the hallway were Hayley returning. When the door remained closed, she retyped the message and sent it to Hannibal.

Guess I’ll take you up on the offer if you still don’t mind picking me up. Here’s the location.

With a little whoosh, the message was on its way. Abigail waited for another minute, pacing in a small circle around the room, but Hayley did not return. 

Her embarrassment giving way to concern for the girl, Abigail worked up the nerve to open the door herself and poke her head out into the hallway, half expecting to find Hayley on her knees and heaving into a nearby potted plant. But the walkway was deserted. She stepped out into the hallway, pulling the door shut behind her, and started for the stairs when she heard Hayley just around the corner, behind the half-open door of another bedroom.

And it sounded like she was crying.

Abigail started towards her voice to console her or even hold her hair back when she heard a second voice. She stopped outside the door, half fear and half curiosity

“I don’t know what you want me to say Hayley. You’re the one who found the freak, you’re just gonna have to put on your big girl panties and get back in there.”

A third voice, just as cruel as the second, chimed in 

“Yeah, put yours on and get hers off.”

Laughter, cold and sharp and the sound of Hayley sniffling. Abigail could feel her cheeks burning as a realization began dawning in her mind. Hayley spoke next, her voice trembling

“I can’t do it , she said-”

“Who gives a fuck what she said? You told us yourself; she lied to you about who she was. We told you the truth. Maybe you need to stop worrying about that psycho and do what your sisters told you to do. Besides, one day you’ll be able to tell the story about that time you ate out a serial killer. How many people can say they got that crazy in college?”

 Before she could stop herself, Abigail shoved the door open and was face to face with a room full of shocked looking sorority girls. 

She couldn’t bring herself to look at Hayley

“What the fuck?” The blonde with the first voice shouted, her eyes narrowing when she realized their clandestine meeting had been interrupted by its subject.

“Oh look, it’s Little Miss Shrike. Did you get bored waiting for Hayley and decide to come in here and recreate your daddy’s greatest hits?”

Abigail’s bravado immediately dissolved, she felt herself shrinking; her shoulders hunched, almost defensively. But her voice was still strong

“What are you talking about?”

A smaller, meaner looking girl with curly dark brown hair spoke up next with the second strange voice Abigail had heard from the hallway.

“Cut the shit Hobbs. We all know who you are, we’re not as dumb as Hayley. We read TattleCrime, we knew who you were the second she showed us your picture.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and glowered in Hayley’s direction

“All crybaby had to do was get a few pictures, maybe even a video that we could have sent to the site. We would have gotten a fat finder’s fee, and she would have made Kappa history. Now she’s nothing but a failure. And you-”

The girl smirked cruelly

“You’re nothing but a perverted murderer who’s only ever been fucked by her daddy. You probably wouldn't have known what to do with a living girl, anyways. ”

Abigail knew she shouldn’t do anything rash. She knew that any reaction that wasn’t resigned silence and heading for the door was giving these girls exactly what they wanted. 

She saw her hand raise and swipe at the girl before she could stop herself.

 The brunette screamed and fell back against the bed behind her, flopping down on the mattress with her hands held out in front of her face. Abigail felt her arms grabbed from behind, heard the girls jeering and yelling, goading each other on. She gasped as a drink was thrown in her face, liquid flooding her sinuses. As she blinked against the warm beer, a palm cracked against her cheek. 

She opened her eyes to see Hayley standing in front of her, the flesh of her palm rosy and her eyes wide. 

Before she could say anything, Abigail was being drug down the stairs, a hand nearly wrenching her shoulder out of its socket and another twisting the nape of her hair. She was led past the party, people on the dancefloor stopping to laugh and yell at the spectacle. Finally, she was shoved out onto the porch, where she nearly flew onto the lawn. She caught herself on the back of a lawn chair before she could crash into the wet grass.

As she stood, she felt another cup full of beer hit her back and heard more raucous laughter from the porch.

“Get out of here freak. And don’t even dream of coming to this school, we don’t want a killer like you on campus.”

Abigail stood and walked away without turning back. She had given them the satisfaction of a response, but she wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing her cry. She could hear the partygoers hooting and yelling after her, see the flash of camera phones against the dark of the night. 

But she refused to turn around. 

She was shivering from the adrenaline in her veins and the beer soaking into her clothes, and tears blurred her vision, but she kept walking across the wide lawn until she hit the sidewalk. Once she felt the shift in the ground beneath her feet, she turned towards the rental house, her eyes on her shoes.

After walking no more than a few feet, she bumped into someone. When she looked up to apologize, her words died in her throat and were reborn as a gasping sob.

It was Hannibal, phone in his hand. He was there to pick her up. 

She fell into his chest, sobbing and heaving. He stroked her hair and held her close, shushing her softly as he led her towards the car. 

He could ask his questions later, for now, he knew she needed the safety provided by the tinted windows of the Bentley. 

He wished desperately that he had not promised Will what he had promised him.

Some people are quite rude, he thought as he helped the hiccupping girl into the passenger’s seat .

Some people deserve to die.

Chapter Text

The cabin of the Bentley was quiet on the way back to the rental house, save for an occasional sniffle from Abigail. As they pulled into the driveway, tires thumping against the uneven cobblestones, Hannibal leaned over the wheel slightly, waving at Will. 

He was on the porch, his refilled whisky tumbler sitting on the arm of the swing he was stretched out across. His brow furrowed slightly when Hannibal killed the engine and instead of getting out, he turned in his seat to face Abigail. Will leaned up to go investigate, but he was stopped by his lover holding up a single finger. 

 Hannibal was already talking to Abigail, and Will could only wonder what was being said that required privacy. He studied her through the windshield; her eyes were on the floorboard but she was shaking her head. He gave a curious scoff, but settled back into the swing. 

Hannibal is better at all this stuff anyways, you’d probably just make her feel worse. He thought as he took a sip off his tumbler. Better let him handle it.

Abigail snuck a quick glance up towards the porch, wishing that Will would just come down and interrupt already, before casting her eyes back down towards her shoes.  She angled her boot, watching the overhead light shine off a dried track from a drop of beer, remembering how the drop that had trailed down Hayley’s neck had looked. How it had tasted. 

She sniffed hard to stop herself from crying as she struggled to focus on what Hannibal was saying. His voice was a velvety purr, one she would hear him using late at night as he spoke to Will after they thought she was asleep. Soft and quiet, it was gentle but held a deep comforting rumble.

“-not begin to guess what may have occurred this evening, but your disheveled appearance combined with the state I found you in causes me a rather great amount of concern. And if I’m concerned, you can only begin to imagine the incalculable nights that this will keep our nervous friend up there awake. “

He looked up towards the porch again, running his thumb along his lower lip and tapping it twice before he continued  

“I won’t force you to disclose what’s happened to you, should you wish not to discuss it. But…… I am ready to take you to the police… or the hospital….. should you find yourself in need of their services.”

Abigail furrowed her brow. She knew what he meant, what he was dancing around asking. She replied, a little too loudly.

“No!” 

Her voice rang in her ears, and she bit her lip before clearing her throat and replying again in a calmer voice

“No, I’m fine, It’s…..it’s- nothing like that happened. I mean, some ….stuff happened. But- but.. I ….. I wanted what happened.”

She felt a sob rising in her throat as she turned her eyes up to look at him

“Oh god, Hannibal. I wanted it so bad. But tonight… tonight made me realize that I’m not allowed to have it. “

She took a shuddering breath as she buried her face in her hands

“They knew…..they all knew who I was. What I am….”

After a few moments of silence, she heard Hannibal’s voice again, smooth and deliberate

“And what is that, Abigail? What did the effete, privileged children see when they looked at you?”

She waved her hands up and down her body, sucking in air with a loud gasp

“They saw the truth....They saw what everyone sees! They saw Garrett. They saw the pictures in the Tattler. They saw this-” She stabbed a hand at the scar on her throat, now covered by the snug neck of her sweater and laughed bitterly

“I don’t even know why I bother. All I did was waste your time, waste Will’s time.”

She laughed again then added

“ I guess I did do one thing. I gave the girls of Kappa Kappa Gamma a story to tell at the next reunion. ‘ Hey, remember that time we rocked that serial killer’s shit?’”

She finished her sentence, panting slightly, a little unsure of the last time she took a breath, and slumped back into her seat.

“I… just can’t get away from him, or any of the things he did….he made me do. Even the things I only ever told you. It’s like it’s……. stamped across my forehead in 20 point font, courtesy of Freddie fucking Lounds.” 

“Abigail, I understand what it can be like to-”

“You know….I don’t actually think you do,Hannibal! You love to say that you understand me, but how can you? You don’t know what it’s like to kill a person! To see them disappear while they lie there in front of you, watching you the whole time? Blaming you, begging you for help…..”

She shook her  head and drew in a shuddery breath before looking up at him, tears clinging to her lashes

“I can accept that maybe…..maybe I deserve everything…. like some kind of sick punishment for everything that happened and for even daring to think I deserved a normal life. You’re a good person, though; innocent. And all I’ve done is pollute you, drag you into my mess. If it weren’t for me you wouldn’t have had- had to ……oh fuck. One weekend we’re hiding a body, the next we’re going on campus tours. What the fuck was I thinking ….”

She crumpled onto his lap, hands over her face, half laughing at the oddity of it all, half sobbing over the loss of a life she had planned a million times. Maybe some small part of her had known all along that she would never get to do anything more than dream, but it hurt all the same. 

“What’s the fucking point……” she rasped bitterly 

Luckily for Hannibal, her jerky movements covered his own small surprised chuckle. His fingers flew to his lips to hide the grin that threatened to curl their corners while he patted Abigail’s back with his other hand. He was sure that many words could be used to describe him, but he knew that good and innocent would not number among them. He shushed her for a few moments, letting her catch her breath before murmuring.

“ While I will agree that all of our experiences may not have been the same, we do share more than you believe.” 

He brushed a lock of auburn hair behind her ear, petting her crown softly as he spoke.

“I too lost my mother and father to violence. But instead of this violence coming on a sunny morning as we were sat around the breakfast table, as you and your family were, it came for us in the dark. I lost them all in a terrible moment that seemed to leave in a flash and stretch on for an eternity. 

A  genocide that decimated my people and made me an orphan.”

He gave a sour little grin, sardonic and sad. 

“I lost everything to a day you’ve never even heard mention of in your history books.”

She rolled onto her side, looking up at him, her breath calming into a hiccupy , but relaxed rhythm.

He was lost in thought, but only for a moment, seeming to feel her gaze on him. He smiled down at her, but the corners of his eyes remained uncrinkled. Her breathing level, she sat up slowly, untwisting a hair from around one of his blazer buttons.

“ I, too, know what it is like to suffer because of the actions of cruel men, to be given no choice in the conditions upon which my survival depended. I am sure that, if I were to reflect upon my actions during my youth, I would be certain to recall an instance or two in which I behaved in a fashion that proper society may have called uncouth.”

A muscle in his cheek twitched, giving him an expression of distaste

“It was many years ago that I decided that I would no longer allow those like the unwashed herd you met at the party, those who had never intimately known the true depths of man’s nature….. to decide that they were fit to judge me and what my survival….my becoming took to achieve. I can only advise that you do your best to adopt a similar mindset.”

Abigail sighed, 

“But how can you say that? You of all people, with what happened to you, it would-”

“Nothing happened to me……I happened.”

Silence fell over the cabin. Hannibal seemed just as startled as Abigail was by how suddenly he had responded. As if being that honest had left him raw and exposed, and Abigail had stuck a nerve with her words.

 She had seen something in his eyes, a sort of panic or maybe…..fear? But of what? The memories of what he had been through, or a rush of panic at accidentally revealing a part of himself he had never intended to?

  A strange blend of empathy and anxiety flooded her guts. 

 Desperate to move on, she tried again

“What I mean is…..How do you do it? How do you..forget? How do you keep going without it all ruining your life?”

 Hannibal shook his head and cleared his throat with a small cough.

“I remind myself that tragedy affects us all at one time or another. If a person has not felt the sting of its blade, then they are simply living on borrowed time. I also console myself with the belief that perhaps in the act of losing, we discover who we truly are. To discover if we are brave enough to continue as the masters of our own fate, in spite of, if not directly because of the hardships we have been forced to bear. “

He reached out to gently pat her hand

“ You won’t always find yourself under the shadow of your father’s crimes, I promise you this. But until that time, know that Will and I support whatever decisions you feel you need to make to discover how to become the master of your own fate.” 

He squeezed her hand gently

“But I think we can both agree that, for the sake of our nervous friend up on the porch, the first decision you should make is to lie to him.”

Abigail scrunched her nose with confusion and a half-stifled laugh 

“What?”

“Lie to him.” Hannibal repeated calmly

“ Let me handle him and you get to bed. I would hate to have you catch your death of cold via a beer soaked wool blend while he runs you through the third degree. Tomorrow, when you’ve had some time to collect yourself, you can mollify him with whatever tale you think will allow you to keep your shore leave. ”

He gave her a conspiratorial little grin and rolled his eyes playfully

“ It can be rather pesky to live with an investigator at times. Lie to him and get your rest, worry about Will and his questions tomorrow. ”

Abigail looked up at Will on the porch. He gave her an awkward wave and she returned the gesture, along with a tight smile. She could already see him deciding which line of questioning to start the interrogation with. 

“You know, I think you're right. I’ll take you up on that.”

She turned to him, giving him a genuine smile. Tired and a little sad, but real.

Then she was out of the car and quickly making her way up the front steps, taking them two at a time. She gave Will another small wave as she hurried past into the house, shutting the door behind her before he could even get a single word out.

He sputtered with disbelief and held a hand out for an explanation from Hannibal who had reached the top step a few moments later. Hannibal held his own hands up defensively.

“What the hell was that about?” Will asked, not sure if he should be worried or offended.

“ It seems our friend may have been overserved. She simply wished to save herself the embarrassment of having to explain her current state while dealing with the spins.”

Will laughed and shook his head with disbelief, taking a sip from his own drink

Hannibal shrugged, the resigned grin worn by all parents of teenagers on his lips as he lifted Will’s legs to sit underneath them on the swing.

“At least she called and didn’t try to make her way back by herself. Our Abigail is responsible, even within her irresponsibility.”

“That doesn’t help as much as you think it does.”

Hannibal slipped off one of Will’s house shoes as he spoke and began rubbing his foot; He worked the sole with firm press of his thumb and rolled his ankle in slow semicircles

“ I told you before , my love. If her circumstances had been different, even undesirable behavior such as this would be old news. It’s a right of passage for all young adults, whether their fathers approve or not.”

He cocked his head to the side, studying Will, his eyes flashing with mischief

“If you were to tell me that in your youth, you never snuck in a few hours after curfew, illicitly procured drink on your breath and a bobble in your step…..then I would have to call you a liar, pigeon.”

Will snorted into his glass, half choking on an ice cube. He spit the ice back into the now empty glass and leaned over to set it on the ground, Hannibal’s grip on his leg tightening subtly to help keep him on the swing.

“ Fair….” He laughed again then added

“There was this one time- I must have been 14 or 15 …… I was staying in some group home out near Houma. One of the other kids had found a bottle of gin tucked inside a toilet tank, it must have been put there by one of the staff. After everyone had gone to bed, a few of us decided to split it. After the bottle was gone, we got the genius idea to go steal watermelons from a nearby farm.”

Hannibal chuckled softly, imagining a young Will; rosy cheeked from excitement and strong drink, his hastily chopped curls spilling over his forehead to shade his eyes. His thin frame swaying as he and his friends hurried along down the cow fence, looking for a gate and shushing each other loudly before dissolving into wheezy laughter. 

He smiled, suddenly warmed against the night’s breezy chill by the thought of a happy moment in Will’s otherwise bleak childhood.

“By the time all five of us made it over the fence and into the patch, I guess we had made enough noise that we woke up the farmer, who was less than pleased to find a pack of drunk teenagers stumbling through his watermelon patch.”

Hannibal pressed a kiss against Will’s sole and lay his foot back on his lap

“I can assume that he wasn’t the most cordial to his youthful visitors?”

Will laughed loudly, as if he the memory had caught him off guard before he covered his mouth and answered between parted fingers 

“We didn’t realize we were busted til we heard him kick the screen door open. Luckily, he gave us a warning shot before he started aiming at us, so we had a few minutes to run for it. I dropped to the ground the second I heard the door slap the house; one of the other kids had to grab me and drag me along. By the time we made it over the fence, I noticed the big wet red splotch on my stomach.”

Hannibal furrowed his brow but didn’t interrupt.

“I knew I’d been shot, for sure. And my first thought was , how am I going to explain this to the night staff without getting in trouble? But then my second thought was, why doesn’t it hurt?”

Will lifted his glasses off the bridge of his nose to massage it as he laughed. 

“It was only after I pulled up my shirt that I saw the seeds.”

Realization dawned across Hannibal’s expression, and he grinned

“Poor pigeon, your life must have flashed before your little eyes before you realized.”

Both men laughed, with Will rasping out after a few moments

“I couldn’t eat watermelon for years after that without feeling a little nervous.”

He chuckled softly before the sound transformed into a small moan. He reached out for Hannibal, flexing his fingers until they twined with his lover’s.

“I sound like an old timer, complaining about Abigail only to sit here and tell you an even dumber story of even dumber shit I got up to when I was a kid. I’m officially a peepaw, drinking on my porch swing, reliving the glory days.”

Hannibal pulled him up from his reclined position and hugged him close. He kissed him warmly, first on his furrowed brow then the lips.

“My dear, I can promise you …….our glory stretches out ahead of us for years, decades even. Although we may have to workshop the name a bit more, I’m not so sure about this peepaw business.””

They laughed, then their lips found each other, Will swallowing the soft whine Hannibal made, his body pressed against his. Finally they broke apart, their faces tucked low beside the other’s ear and continued murmuring to each other, shushing each other and giggling like teenagers who were breaking curfew.

Their voices trailed into the house through a window at the other end of the porch. Luckily, they didn’t disturb Abigail; she was already drifting off to dreamless sleep, snuggling low under her weighted blanket. The ceiling fan buzzed and wobbled as its dusty blades whirred, effectively muffling all sounds outside her room. 

Neither Abigail nor the men just outside could hear the phone on the coffee table as it vibrated wildly, its corner bouncing against the base of a wine glass. It rattled quietly, softly tinking against the thin glass for a minute before falling silent and going dark.

A moment more and the screen flashed again, this time with a message.

(8) Missed Calls