Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Will woke slowly to a tugging in his cheek. A light pulling, dulled by morphine and lidocaine, though there was still a small sting. He felt pain from a distance, throbbing aches and dull stings, but his body was mostly numb. Faintly, he registered that he was going to be damn sore in the morning.

His eyes fluttered open slowly. The rays of sunlight were dimming now, orange and long through the dusty windows, washing over his bare skin. He felt a small chill wash over him, his body entirely naked, exposed to the cool air of the slow ending winter, spring slow approaching, March turning to April. Perhaps it was later than that now. He wasn't quite sure how long he'd been asleep.

He pieced things back together. Rather than starting with earlier memories, his mind immediately went back to that first meeting with Hannibal, in Jack Crawford’s office. His life had become cut into two halves, one far clearer to him than the other. Before Hannibal Lecter, and after. His mind pieced together the story; their first meeting, their therapy sessions, Abigail, prison and betrayal and murder. Florence.

Hannibal’s surrender to Jack Crawford. Molly. The Dragon. The bluff. Blood. So much blood. And pain. And adrenaline. The rush of the kill. The feeling of life draining from Francis’ body beneath his fingertips.

Their fall.

It had been so beautiful. A beautiful place to fall into oblivion together. A beautiful place for all of it to end. Such a beautiful ending.

And he woke up.

He woke up.

He wasn't supposed to wake up.

He gritted his teeth and hissed in pain, though more of the emotional sort than the physical. Digging his fingernails into his palms in attempt to feel something, anything, he clamped his eyes shut again, desperate to sink back into that black of sleep, black of death, once again.

He didn't want to live this way. He would have no choice but to live as a monster, a murderer with a bloodlust too fervent to ignore. He would have no choice but to live as an omega beneath his alpha; Hannibal was his alpha, no matter how much he wanted to deny it, and he had known it for years now. He would have no choice but to live through heat and rut, live beneath the weight of the wait for the next hunt, his sun rising and falling around Hannibal Lecter. There was no more choice for him. He had made his choice, made the choice to be taken away by the sea, and Hannibal had stripped him of that too.

That was not a life he wanted to live. Not a life that he could live. Life side-by-side with Hannibal Lecter couldn't happen, not really. There was no such thing as happily ever after for them. There couldn't be. Not with the constant power struggle that would always be between them. No matter their love, no matter their lust, no matter the part of their soul that was forever conjoined with no hope for separation, no matter what they had… They weren't allowed a happy ending.

Can't live with him. Can't live without him.

Hannibal’s eyes caught Will’s as they opened slowly, the dazzling blue that he had memorized over the course of the past few years, the dazzling blue eyes that he had dreamt about every night for three years while being locked in that cage, appeared from beneath closed eyelids. His fingers hesitated only a moment before continuing to work at the stitches, pulling the flesh back together, breath catching in his throat before his reminded himself to exhale.

Will let out a small hissing breath, like he was in pain, and Hannibal slowed his pace, hoping to minimize any pain that he might’ve caused. He knew that he’d already done enough damage, not oblivious to the harm that he had caused Will, not oblivious to how angry he would be for what he had done. He didn’t want to live a life of arguing and fighting and despising each other, and most certainly didn’t want to cause Will any more hurt than necessary.

“Am I hurting you, Will? I had hoped that the morphine would keep you sedated while I stitched you up.” Hannibal murmured, making sure to be more careful as he pulled the stitch tight.

“No.” Will mumbled, though it came out slurred before turning into a hiss of pain from the tug when he opened his mouth.

Hannibal nodded slowly. It had been days since their fall, and for awhile, Hannibal feared that Will would never wake up. Hannibal had the will to live, didn't want the slaying of the Dragon to be the end. But Will had let himself sink, let the waves wash over him. That unwillingness had made Hannibal fear that Will might never wake up.

Relief had filled him when he felt the boy beginning to stir the night before, finally showing signs of life beyond a heartbeat. He hadn’t moved much, but he’d shifted beneath the covers and let out a small discontented noise in his sleep, proving that he was more than just a vegetable, kept alive for no reason other than because Hannibal wanted him to be. Words hadn’t been able to tell the amount of relief that had flooded through the doctor when he saw him move.

Relief. Then fear of rejection.

Will had pushed them both over into murky waters to be swallowed by the sea, and Hannibal had dragged them back to shore, forced them both back into this life, not ready to be taken into the next. But he had forced Will to live with him, unable to let him go, and now… How could Will ever forgive him for being so selfish?

Hannibal forced his worries away, not letting anxiety and shaking hands distract him from the task at hand. He forced himself to focus, pulling his stitches with tight precision, each stitch neat, clean, hoping that it wouldn't scar too deeply. There was no doubt that Will would have to live with the scar, but he hoped to make the mauled skin less noticeable, less severe. He channelled all emotions into his hands, focusing hard on his work as he threading the needle through pierced flesh as he pulled it back together.

He had done these stitches three days before, but they had been sloppy given that the alpha had been dealing with his own wounds and struggling to cling to consciousness. He had woken up this morning with enough energy and confidence in himself that he had decided to redo them.

“How do you feel? You’ve been unconscious for days, I can’t imagine you feel all that well.” Hannibal remarked quietly as he finished the last stitch, tying it off and letting go of the omega.

“Tired. Kind of hazy.” Will mumbled.

“As to be expected. I currently have you on quite a bit of morphine, given the severity of your injuries, but I’ll start weaning you off now that you’re awake.”

“Okay.” Will mumbled.

Will fell silent again, his eyes trained up at the ceiling, refusing to look at the alpha. Hannibal gulped down hard, having half expected this sort of reaction from him, but the expectation of it hadn’t prepared him at all, not really. There had still been some distant hope in him that Will would wake up and realize that it was still beautiful, that the life that they could share together could still be as beautiful as it had been. Blackened with blood in the moonlight, cleaving to one another, forsaking the world for something better… It could still be theirs. It could still be beautiful. He had hoped that Will would wake up and know this, wake up and cling to him in the same way that he had done on the edge of the eroding bluff. Instead, he was met with a bitter quiet. Silence.

“You’ve suffered quite a few injuries, but nothing that shouldn’t be healed within a few weeks. Until then, you need to rest while your body heals.” Hannibal spoke again, trying to fill the painfully quiet hallways with noise, with life again.

Will nodded slightly in compliance before shifting slightly, pulling the covers up over him, turning onto his side away from Hannibal. He didn't know what to think yet, or how. Too drugged from morphine and sleep, he instead opted to let himself drift back into sleep, let the black like death take him over again so that maybe he could pretend that the waves had taken him again. He said to rest, after all.

“Will…” Hannibal murmured. The man that he had fallen so madly and maddeningly in love with, the man who had changed him and created something new, something better, the man that he had wanted so desperately to build a life with… That man despised him now. He felt so cold now, so far away from him, pulling away from what Hannibal had wanted to build for them. He had wanted to build a life for them, wanted to create something beautiful with the omega… But it was quite obviously not what he wanted.

Will bit down slightly on his lower lip at the sound of his name. Hannibal whispered his name with all of the reverence that he would give to a god, but just like God himself, Will ignored him, no matter it how badly it hurt him to do so. He had never heard the man sound so broken. Even after killing Abigail, even after slicing open the omega and leaving him to die, his voice had come out like stone, the thundering of some cold god, but now… Now he sounded like a man. Tired and broken and flesh and blood.

“Will… Please.” Hannibal begged a bit louder, his voice coming out cracked and shaky, begging for perhaps the first time in his life. Hannibal couldn’t let him slip away so easily. He wouldn’t be able to bear it. Will shifted slightly beneath the covers, only turning further away from him. Hannibal bit down on his bottom lip, clenching his jaw tightly in attempt to hold back the tears that were threatening to perk up in his eyes, instinct telling him not to show any ounce of weakness.

God, now he’s fucking crying, dammit. Will bit down every urge to turn toward him, to give him the time of day, but he couldn’t. Not after what he had done. They weren’t supposed to survive. They were supposed to be taken out to sea, to be dragged beneath the waves, to have that be that. They were supposed to die. And Hannibal hadn’t even given him the dignity to choose how he wanted to go. Hannibal had forced him back to dry land, had forced air back into his lungs, had forced him to live a life constantly spent in this limbo of not being able to live with or without him, not being able to truly live at all… Will made his choice, and Hannibal had refused him that.

“I know… I know you’re angry. And I understand if you never forgive me. But… Understand, Will, I did what I had to do. Because I knew that I could never let you go. I… I can’t live without you. I'm as conjoined to you as you are to me. And after years of separation and isolation, after years of waiting for this… This becoming, just letting go… I am a selfish man, Will. I couldn't… I couldn't let go.” Hannibal whispered, voice shaking as he struggled to hold back tears.

Will bit down on his lip, holding back everything that he wanted to say. He hadn’t meant for either of them to survive, for both of them to be taken by the sea so that neither of them would have to live without each other, so that they could finally end their wars and their power struggles. They could've been free… But Hannibal had been selfish, his stubbornness too unrelenting to let go and fall into the darkness of the sea.

“I… How could I let go after all that I had ever wanted had finally become reality? After so long? I had waited for so long, and I just… I couldn't let it end, Will. I finally had you, my omega, and I just… I couldn't let you go. I wasn't ready to. Not after all this time. I couldn't let anyone else, not even the grips of death, have you, mylimasis.” Hannibal whimpered. He wanted to pull himself together, wanted to remain composure, but everything inside of him seemed to be cracking, coming apart. No one had been able to do that to him, not before Will Graham. Will Graham was his strength. Will Graham was his vulnerability.

Will’s nails dug into his palms, small pink crescents pressing into the flesh, struggling to hold back the words and the tears. He clamped his eyes shut, entire body tensing hard as he lay there. He had never heard Hannibal so broken, and the sound of his alpha so hurt ignited some instinct to comfort and hold inside of him. But Will was more than beast and instinct, and he forced it down.

“I'm… I'm sorry, Will.” Hannibal whispered.

Sorry for what? Was he sorry for sending Will’s world into total upheaval? For turning the man into a killer? For ripping him away from his family? For pulling him back to shore and forcing life back into his lungs? For forcing him into a life that he didn't want to live?

Did Will really want apologies for any of it? Did he truly regret any of it? Did he truly want anything to go back to the way that they were before Hannibal Lecter?

In truth, the omega couldn't imagine life without Hannibal Lecter. There wasn't life without Hannibal Lecter, not anymore. Before Hannibal, his life had been nothing more than collecting strays, teaching classes that left him with a feeling of unfulfillment, living heat to heat, constant waiting until he could wade back into the stream and forget all about life as he knew it. It was life without purpose. Life without meaning. It wasn't truly life at all. He had been a dead man walking.

But after Hannibal, through all of the pain, through the burning of fever and the cold of isolation, through the madness and the murder, through the abandonment of manmade mercy… Through it all, something had sparked life anew in him, starting a fire in his bones for the first time in his life… And perhaps, through it all, it had been worth it. Will wasn’t quite sure anymore.

He gulped down hard and clutched to his pillow, letting a tear escape from his eyes as he clenched his jaw. He inhaled sharply, struggling to maintain his ground and his pride. He wasn't letting go so easily, wasn't quite ready to forgive just yet.

“Good night, Dr. Lecter.” Will bit out, words spitting like fire, still refusing to look at him.

Whatever remained inside of Hannibal Lecter shattered into dust. No longer on a first name basis. The dam behind his eyes came loose, tears that had welled in his eyes now flowing freely down his cheeks as he finally stood from the side of the bed. Unwilling to let Will see him so weak any longer, he turned toward the door. He swiped the tears from his eyes, struggling to hide his brokenness from the only man that could reduce him to that point.

“Good night, Will.”

-----

It took three days of coaxing for Will to muster up the will to leave his bed. Hannibal had hardly said a word to him, aside from urging him to get out of bed. He warned about muscular dystrophy and starvation and dehydration, since Will had hardly eaten anything since waking up, only when he was forced, but Hannibal had remained almost entirely clinical. Will wasn’t sure what was worse; the broken man that had begged for his forgiveness days before, or the distant alpha that refused to truly speak to him beyond medical advice.

He had ripped out all of the wires and tubes that had been protruding from his veins and finally stood up on trembling legs, his weakness fully evident for the first time since waking up. He could almost immediately feel the aches in his bones that had been dulled by the constant drip of morphine into his bloodstream, feeling each and every injury in its fullness. Two cracked ribs, a sprained ankle, the various cuts and bruises all over his body… It felt like he had been hit by a bus, but even still, he forced himself from the cold comfort of his bed and headed into the living room.

He wasn’t quite sure where they were. He had vaguely registered the sound of birds and wildlife outside of his window at night, but as for where they took up residence in the world was a mystery. As he limped through the halls, he realized that they had been holed up in a cabin of some sort. He supposed that there were worse places to be.

Will’s eyes caught Hannibal’s as he turned a corner. The alpha sat in a rocking chair with a book in hand, leaning heavily on one arm where he sat to favor his right side, the place where he had been shot by the Great Red Dragon. He looked weak, tired, no edge about him. Will had never seen him that way, all guards down and looking entirely human. Not god. Not the devil. Just Hannibal.

“Good morning.” Will mumbled, shambling into the room as he rubbed sleep from his eyes.

“Good morning, Will.” Hannibal greeted, sitting the book down and slowly standing up, gingerly pressing his hand against his side as he steadied himself.

Will took a tentative step forward, inching toward the alpha. He didn’t look him in the eyes, couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact with the man that it had once come so naturally with. For so long, Hannibal had been the only person that Will Graham could make consistent eye contact with without feeling anxious, Hannibal being the only person allowed inside of his head, even when Will wanted him out. Now he couldn’t bring himself to look up.

Will had slept for the majority of the past three days, but when he did wake up, when he managed to pull himself back into consciousness, he had been trying to sort out his feelings. Everything racing inside of his head left a lot of gray areas and uncertainties, but he had managed to come up with two absolutes.

The first thing that he knew without the shadow of a doubt: he was royally pissed off with Hannibal Lecter.

The second thing that he knew without the shadow of a doubt: he was in love with Hannibal Lecter.

Two conflicting sides inside of him, tearing him apart from the inside out… It left him with a sickness in the pit of his stomach. There would always be this desire to try and have some happiness in this new life, this rebirth of theirs, but he knew that there could never truly be. Hannibal would never stop wanting to destroy him. Will knew Hannibal than he knew himself, and he knew that the alpha would never be able to live with the vulnerability that Will brought to his life. Hannibal couldn’t stand to be vulnerable, and as they had already learned, he couldn’t live without Will… That was why Will had tried to end it all. But it would always be this endless cycle of hate and love. There was no escape for them, only in death, and Hannibal had robbed him of that choice.

But there would always be part of him that wanted him. Part of him that wanted to bond with him, wanted to mate with him, wanted to be taken by the alpha. Will had known for years that Hannibal was always supposed to be his mate, which was why he had refrained from mating with Molly, from mating with anyone all these years. He knew that Hannibal was his. No matter how much he hated himself for it.

“How’s your side?” He inquired softly, deciding that he needed to be civil, at least. If this had to be his life now, he at least needed to learn to coexist with the alpha.

“It’ll heal, I suppose. Until then, morphine and vicodin exist.” Hannibal chuckled.

Will hummed in reply as he slowly made his way to the sofa, taking a seat slowly. Hannibal sat back in his rocking chair across from him, leaning back and crossing his hands in his lap. Will turned away, refusing to look up at him. He knew that if he looked up, if he fell into those eyes again, he would fall back into him no matter how hard he tried.

“How do you feel, Will?” Hannibal inquired.

“Like shit. But I’ll survive.”

Hannibal nodded slowly and leaned back in his chair, slowly rocking back and forth as his eyes scanned over the younger man. His dark curls were greasy and wild, sticking out in all directions. His blue eyes looked tired, glassy from the drugs that had been pumped into him for the past several days. He looked… Rough. Tired. He had looked so alive at the edge of that bluff, and Hannibal wondered if he would ever look so alive again.

Silence filled the air between them as Hannibal closed his eyes, inhaling slowly, taking in his scent. It was so familiar now, each fluctuation and variation of it memorized and catalogued for him to return to. He smelled warm, a bit like hazelnut and chocolate, sweeter than usual. Hannibal hadn't expected that scent, not with everything. He would’ve expected the smell like ice, cold, the same scent that had radiated from him after he'd been arrested, what with his anger, but…

A feeling of realization washed over him.

Heat.

It wasn't immediate, not at all. He figured it would be a few days, maybe a week and a half or so. But it was there, his scent warm and appealing. It was most certainly coming, and it was coming on soon. Will Graham would succumb to his heat whilst in his care, and there was no avoiding it. Will Graham, his omega, was going to go into heat, and Hannibal would have to service him through it.

Hannibal had only smelled him this close to heat once, Will having learned well to mask his scent and to avoid all human interaction during his heats. The only time that Hannibal had caught a whiff of him like this had been during his slow descent into madness (and encephalitis), when he'd lost track of his cycle and hadn't bothered to mask the scent.

Hannibal’s face fell when he realized what was to come next.

Will wasn't well enough for Hannibal to leave him on his own, and risking infection on top of heat could be catastrophic. But staying meant rut. There would be no avoiding it, and no controlling it. Hannibal shifted slightly at the realization, the very idea of it bringing a firmness between his legs. The idea of Will’s blue eyes blown wide, his pale flesh flushed, his nude form squirming beneath him…

But Hannibal couldn't manipulate any longer. No manipulation. No lies. None of that. Hannibal decided that he would do nothing without Will’s consent. He wanted the omega to trust him, to love him, if there was any chance of that ever happening. And that meant that he could no longer just take what he wanted. It meant no more secrets and no more lies. It meant honesty and consent.

“Will…” Hannibal murmured. Will’s eyes looked up toward him; not into his eyes, but in his general direction, at least.

“Yes?” Will replied quickly. Everything felt strained, awkward in a way that it had never felt with Hannibal. Hannibal had been the only person he had been able to open up to for so long, but now… Everything felt so strained now, like whatever their relationship had once been was cracked and splintered, and Will wondered if it could ever be repaired. If he even wanted to repair it.

“We… We have to talk about this eventually. We’re going to have to coexist for the time being. I'm unsure that either of us could survive separation, and even if we could, I don't know that either of us would want to. I understand your anger. I know you may hate me and you have every right to. But you and I are alive right now, and there’s no changing that.” Hannibal’s voice shook as he spoke.

Will nodded slowly. He wasn't exactly wrong. Even if Hannibal were to let him leave, let him walk out of that door and never look back, Will knew that he wouldn't be able to stay away. He'd stayed away for three years and came running back at the first opportunity. Hannibal Lecter was his poison and his drug, and it was an addiction that Will knew he'd never be able to break.

“And what, exactly, do you suggest we do about this predicament, Dr. Lecter? I've said it before and I’ll say it again; there's no living with or without you. So we’re trapped in a cycle. I had a way out, and you refused. You denied me that. So we have no choice but to coexist in a place that leads nowhere but misery, because you're selfish, or a masochist, or something of the like.” Will finally replied, his voice coming out cold, like death itself.

It took everything in the alpha not to shatter, fall apart right in front of the younger man. Everything ached and burned inside of him, Will’s voice so cold and angry with him, the only man that he had ever truly loved despising him. He had every right to, but oh how he wished that he could see…

“I would like to think of it, our fall, our reemergence from the sea… I would like to think of it as our rebirth. A second chance for you and I.” Hannibal whispered.

“But do people like you and I get a second chance? Or do we fall into old routines and old habits? Can either of us truly change?” Will retorted. “You've changed me since we first met. And I've changed you. But can we truly change enough to stop hurting each other?”

Will inhaled slowly, tears beginning to sting in his eyes. He had hurt so much over the years. Before Hannibal, everything had been dulled and muted, and Will had been almost numb. Will had learned to be numb, to not let his fear and pain pierce too deeply. He could cope. But after Hannibal, that thick skin that he'd developed had shed, stripping him of his shield of callouses and leaving him vulnerable. So, while he felt joy and connection so raw and so openly for the first time, he had been hurt in ways unspeakable.

“I just don't want to hurt anymore.” Will whispered.

Hannibal rose to his feet, and for just a moment, Will felt a pang of fear. Perhaps it was because he knew what Hannibal was capable of, or perhaps it was because of all of the conditioning that he'd gone through as a child to be afraid of alphas resurfacing in him. But as it became evident again that Hannibal Lecter was a broken man, any fear in him subsided, turning to pity as he limped toward him.

And pity turned to bafflement when the alpha took a knee in front of him.

Will’s eyes went wide, sitting straight up as he watched the man in front of him. Alphas were not to do such a thing, submitting themselves to their omegas. Will had always struggled with his ranking as an omega, hating the lack of respect, hating that he would always be seen as a lower class, and while he thought that the old practice was outdated and, frankly, pointless, he had never thought that Hannibal would be one to lower himself in that way. Hannibal the arrogant, Hannibal the narcissist, Hannibal the cannibal who thought everyone else to be little more than sheep…

That very same Hannibal was the man to take a knee to him now, reaching out slowly and taking his hand in attempt to bridge the gap between them. That very same Hannibal was submitting to an omega. Will could hardly believe his eyes at such a simple gesture.

“I have done you wrong, Will. We have hurt each other so much. And words do not express how deeply I regret ever letting you hurt. I have never been as vulnerable to anyone as I am to you, and it has always been in my nature to crush whatever may hurt me.” Hannibal attempted to explain the things that Will already knew.

Hannibal brought Will’s hands up to his lips, pressing a small kiss against his palm. His eyes drifted closed as he inhaled his scent, sweet and warm, like fresh air and chocolate and coffee and the smell of a roaring fire… It was a scent that Hannibal could've easily grown addicted to.

“Something shattered in us when we slayed the Dragon together. Something was broken, some barrier… Or perhaps something came together. But whatever it was, whatever happened… It was beautiful, Will. You said it yourself. I… I cannot seem to articulate what happened. But something changed in you and I. And I understand that you may be skeptical, because I know that I have hurt you, and you have every right to believe that the life that could've been, no longer can be.”

The alpha was stumbling over his words, barely able to bring his thoughts and emotions to his lips with the eloquence that he typically portrayed. He had so much that he wanted to say and so much that he couldn't. He let out a long sigh for a moment, nuzzling up to Will’s hands, praying that he didn't pull himself away. Hannibal had wanted so much to touch, to hold…

“You and I were once going to run away together. This is what our life could have been then. Perhaps this is our second chance.” Hannibal whispered, staring up at the omega with hopeful eyes. “There are things that cannot be taken back. But you and I know better than anyone that change is something that you and I are both prone to when it comes to one another. Once upon a time, I changed you, set you free, and you did the same to me. And maybe… Maybe we could change for each other again.”

He was babbling now, clinging to whatever last hope was in him, desperate to convince Will that he could change, that this could change, that they could be happy with each other, though he wasn’t even quite sure that he bought that line. But he wanted to. He wanted to believe that they could be happy.

“I know that… I know that you think that our lives now will be as they always have been. Loving until it hurts, pushing until we shatter. But… Maybe we could be happy. Maybe we could find a way to live together without hurting each other.” Hannibal whispered.

“People like us… We don’t get happy endings. We don’t deserve them.” Will muttered.

Ignoring the pain in his side, Hannibal straightened himself, taking proper position. He took the stance of a man begging his lover for their hand in marriage; this was just that. Hannibal was going to beg the man he loved for his hand in a more perfect union, for just a chance to create something wonderful.

“Perhaps you’re right. I don’t deserve a happy ending.I know that I do not deserve you. But give me a chance to give you a happy ending. Give me a chance to earn something I do not deserve. Give me a chance to prove to you that I have changed. Give me a single chance to prove to you that I love you. And that I am capable of loving you without breaking you.”

Chapter Text

“May I sit?”

Hannibal stood at the other end of the bed, now with fresh sheets and free of all of the wires and medical tools that had once littered the room. It felt more like a bedroom than a hospital room, and with that, it immediately became warmer, something much needed with the blizzard outside; it was hardly only April, but the wind was blowing hard, somewhere much colder than any place that he had known. Back at home, the weather would've been warming up as spring approached quickly, but here, wherever here was, the snow was still blowing. Will didn't care too much, though, so long as the house was warm. If this was his home now, Will wanted it to at least feel like a home.

Will had resigned himself to bed half an hour earlier, retiring into a small fortress of sheets with a book. Typically, he was content with a single pillow and a single blanket, needing no more than that, but he had been in the odd mood to nest, hoarding most of the pillows in the house, even stealing the throw pillows off of the couch.

“You may.” Will invited, patting the bed next to him before returning to his book.

Will had opened up a bit over the course of a few days. Their conversations still suffered from awkwardness and one-sidedness on occasion, and touch was still limited, but the gap was becoming smaller, their teacup that had been reduced to dust slowly coming back together again.

Hannibal knew that Will was under the impression that this teacup would shatter again once it came back together. Hannibal had already decided that he would not allow such a thing to happen; he couldn't lose Will. Not again. Those three years of his incarceration had been spent locked in fantasy, reliving memories with his omega. That was not something he would go back to.

“How are you feeling, Will?” Hannibal inquired. His wounds had been healing nicely, save for one tear in a stitch in his leg. But Hannibal wasn't so interested in his wounds, but rather something that he had yet to bring up, deciding that Will would mention it whenever he was ready. Heat.

Will shrugged, turning back to his book. He could feel the effects of his heat starting; the roiling in his belly, the random chills down his spine whenever Hannibal was in the room, the fever creeping over his flesh… He figured that he wouldn't be leaving bed much for a few days before heat, as he usually did, too sick from his pre-heat to so much as leave the bed. He wasn't too sick yet, the worst of his side effects being nothing more than an almost obsessive need to nest, but…

“I'll live.” He mumbled. Their relationship had shifted, still awkward and distant, but it was getting easier, at least. He couldn't let himself open up too much, still not entirely trusting him, but he was trying. Hannibal was trying to change, so Will decided to try and let him.

“I'm going into heat. Few days, maybe.” Will confessed. He hadn't spoken the word ‘heat’ since their “rebirth”, as Hannibal was calling it. But they couldn't keep avoiding the topic. There was no avoiding it for long. Will would have to suffer through his biological instincts to fuck and breed, and Hannibal would have to be there. They needed to talk about it.

“I know. I smelled it on you.” Hannibal stated.

Will nodded slowly. He had never talked about his heats with anybody, aside from a brief discussion with the dear Dr. Lecter a few years back while in therapy. Aside from that, he never spoke of it, and the thought of discussing it now had his stomach tied in knots. He had always been taught that his heats were shameful, that he should take no pride in the fact that he was an omega. Pride was reserved for alphas. But there seemed to be no choice but to discuss it with his alpha, since it was coming on so quickly.

“Are you going to claim me? Fuck me, breed me and whatnot, or…?” Will inquired, not looking up at him, trying to focus on his book, but the words began to blur together. Most of him dreaded heat, knowing what Hannibal might do to him. Fuck him, knock him up, keep him trapped there, no chance for escape once he was carrying the alpha’s child. But part of him, a sliver that he was growing to despise, hoped to god that he would do it.

“Only if I have your explicit consent.” Hannibal assured. “I will not lay a finger on you unless you want me to. Heat is a vulnerable time for omegas. I would be deeply honored if you were to ask me to service you through your heat, but I would never violate you like that.”

Will sat his book down on the nightstand, opting to give Hannibal his full attention. Hannibal sat next to him, hands folded in his lap. His hair was starting to get long, like he hadn't had a haircut in a few weeks. His eyes were scanning over Will, leaving the omega feeling vulnerable, like Hannibal could look straight into him. Power radiated off of him, as it always had. Will shifted slightly, burrowing deeper into his nest, curling in on himself.

“You know that I won't be able to say no when I'm in heat. You're an alpha, I'll trigger your rut… I won't have the capacity to say no.” He reminded. Will had never been with anyone during his heat, but he knew how desperate he always felt, needing an alpha’s knot inside him. It didn't matter whose.

“I know. That is why I will ask your consent before your heat begins.” Hannibal replied.

Will cocked an eyebrow. “Are you asking my consent now, Dr. Lecter?”

“If you have already made up your mind, yes.”

Will paused a moment to consider it. He knew that there would be no avoiding it in the long run. Will would either cave and beg him for his knot just to appease the ache until Hannibal was too devolved in his rut to know better, or Hannibal would stop being so patient and just take what belonged to him. There would be no avoiding it in the long run; they would have no choice but to give into instinct. But Will wasn't quite so sure he was ready.

“Will you give me a few days to think about it?” Will inquired quietly.

“Yes. Of course.” Hannibal nodded.

And so that was that.

Will nodded slightly, silence settling over them. They sat stiffly without words, and Will wasn't quite sure how to fill the silence, but he knew that he wanted it to end. He wanted to talk to him like they were friends again, wanted the effortlessness that they had once had back, but he didn't know how to fix it.

The silence between them clung to his flesh, burning like fire as Hannibal sat next to the man he loved. He had loved Will so much, but the awkwardness was almost tangible, like he could reach out and feel it. They had never been like this before, but whatever their relationship had once been was now cracked and broken, and Hannibal didn't know how to fix it.

“I'm going to go to sleep.” Will finally sighed, reaching over and flicking off the lamp.

“May I sleep next to you?” Hannibal blurted out. “The couch is not treating kindly.”

Will's eyes widened for a moment, surprised at the request. He hadn’t realized that the alpha was sleeping on the couch, having figured that he had his own room. Besides, Hannibal had kept his distance, but this was… Different. He was pushing boundaries. Will thought it over a moment before giving a small, slow nod.

Hannibal gave a small smile and slid into the bed, pulling the covers over himself. Will did the same, burrowing deeper into his nest that he had built, pillows and blankets forming an effective barrier between the two of them. Will wasn't quite ready to touch in a way so intimate. It was something that he hadn't even done with lovers, always leaving before morning came; the only person who he'd slept next to in his forty years of life had been Molly, and even then, he hadn't slept in the same bed with her until they were engaged.

There was something vulnerable about sleeping in the arms of another person that Will didn't like. You were left entirely at their mercy, and sleeping next to another person left you entirely defenseless. They could kill you before you even registered it.

“May I touch you?” Hannibal inquired, a slightly more sophisticated way of asking if he could cuddle up next to his omega.

“No.” Will answered flatly; not mean, not cold, just matter-of-fact.

“Okay.”

And that, he supposed, was that.

----

Will woke up in a tangle of limbs, head pressed against Hannibal Lecter’s chest, nest dismantled and laying in the floor. His immediate instinct was to pull away, but as he looked up at the sleeping alpha, mouth open slightly and snoring quietly, he couldn't quite bring himself to move away. The pound of his heart against Will’s cheek, the rise and fall of his chest, his arm slung heavy around the omega’s shoulders…. It was all shockingly reassuring.

Will lay still, hoping not to rouse his sleeping lover - no, not lover. Not lover. He felt a small purr rising in his chest, a sound of his unwitting contentment, but he forced it down, forcing whatever logical side of himself that remained to remember what he had done, why Will Graham couldn't love Hannibal Lecter. He couldn't. But the emotional part of him, the part of him that was undeniably sensitive, undeniably omega, felt the conjoinment between them growing stronger, their connection overwhelming. Will loved the alpha, no matter how much he wanted to hate him.

Will allowed himself a moment. Just a moment. A single moment in time where he would let his defenses down and let himself feel. Feel whatever emotion was flooding over him, be it love or just his impending heat talking. He let himself feel, breathe, love for just a moment.

Will let a curious finger slip beneath Hannibal’s shirt, then another, and another, snaking his hand up his side. He could feel the jagged gash beneath his fingertips, tracing over the stitches. It stretched from his lowest rib to his hipbone, long and thick and almost surgical. His fingers drifted over the wound lightly, careful not to hurt him.

Hannibal woke to the feeling of his omega touching him, finger grazing lightly over him. It didn't hurt, just a slight sensitivity beneath Will’s touch, a small sting being enough to wake him. Hannibal had always been an incredibly light sleeper, and feeling his omega’s touch over his flesh was enough to bring him back to consciousness.

Hannibal had been terrified that Will may never touch him again. He knew that Will would pull away and never do this in the light of day, but now… Now, in the long shadows of morning light, waking in accidentally tangled limbs, Will Graham was touching him. Will Graham was holding him again.

“Good morning.” Hannibal murmured, reaching up and running a hand through Will’s curls, hoping that a gentle gesture wouldn't push him away.

“Morning.” Will croaked, voice hoarse and groggy with sleep still. “Am I hurting you?” He pulled his hand away from beneath Hannibal’s shirt, blush creeping over his skin. He hadn't meant to wake him up, hadn't anticipated on being caught.

“No, no.” Hannibal reassured, nestling in closer. “You're alright.”

Will nodded and shifted slightly, not pulling away just yet. He knew that he should move, run away and never speak of this again, but he didn't want to. It was probably the omega in him, his natural inclinations to be close to his alpha, but it felt deeper than just instinct. It felt like there was something cosmically right, like this tangled heap of bodies and limbs was written in the stars. Pressing his head further into Hannibal’s chest, he shifted until he felt something… Hard.

Will froze, suddenly feeling painfully vulnerable, acknowledging Hannibal’s arousal. He knew that he should have ignored it, should have been mature about it, but his heart stopped in his chest at the poke of Hannibal's erection.

“You're hard.” Will blurted out, immediately regretting it, embarrassment filling him as a hot blush crept over his skin, looking away and withholding a groan. He hadn't meant to say anything; it just sort of happened, tumbling from his lips like word vomit.

The discovery of the bulge between Hannibal’s legs had come as such a shock to him that it had nearly scared the omega away, though Will knew that it was stupid to get himself worked up over it. Will typically woke up to the same sensation, and he knew that it was something that all men experienced, but sometimes Will forgot that Hannibal was just that. A man. Not god or beast, but human.

Hannibal was taken aback, eyes going wide for just a moment before softening again. The alpha’s eyes glanced down between them, noticing his own arousal. He had been too distracted by Will’s touch to notice the fact that he had an erection. For a fleeting moment, Hannibal felt embarrassment creeping up within him, but he pushed it down and smothered it, refusing to feel shame for something entirely natural.

“So it seems I am.” Hannibal finally replied with a small chuckle, attempting to lighten the mood. “It's a perfectly natural phenomenon. During REM sleep, the brain begins to shut off certain neurotransmitters, including Norepinephrine, which controls the restriction of blood flow to the penis, resulting in nocturnal penile tumescence or, more commonly known as, morning wood.”

Will stared at him blankly before letting out a small laugh. Of all the things he could've said, that was what he'd chosen. He pressed his face into Hannibal’s chest, finding his random medical explanations entirely too funny. Hannibal had always been pretentious, but he rarely got so medical. Will occasionally forgot that Hannibal had once been a surgeon, but every now and again, he would pull some random scientific fact out of his ass and remind the world how damn smart he was.

“Of all the things you could’ve said… Jesus, Han.” Will chuckled, shaking his head.

The edges of Hannibal’s eyes began to crinkle as he smiled down at his omega. His ears hung on the word ‘Han’, smiling at the nickname. Will had never called him that, had never used nicknames before. Hannibal had counted it as a blessing whenever Will even referred to him by his first name, knowing how he would only use his last name whenever he wanted to keep things impersonal. His first name had been personal to Will, but now a nickname…

Hannibal couldn’t help but wonder if Will was falling in love with him again, and he damn well hoped that he was. He prayed that Will would find whatever love he had felt on the edge of that bluff again, prayed to whatever gods were out there that Will might find his way back. They had been pulled so far apart; Hannibal hadn’t moved, but Will had been forced away, ran from him like the monster he was. But Hannibal would chase him to the ends of the earth if he had to.

Hannibal relished every second he spent there, Will’s arms still wrapped around him, a tangle of limbs and pillows and sheets. Will's laughs had quieted, but the omega’s face was still pressed into his chest. Hannibal didn't know how long this would last, but he hoped to god that his omega would never pull away.

“Will…” He whispered, name quiet on his tongue.

Will's eyes turned toward Hannibal's, feeling something like love, something like lust filling the space between them. Hannibal’s gaze was something solid, tangible, intense. What little remained of Will's smile fell, his eyes going wide and mouth falling open slightly. It was like Hannibal had entrapped him in something like a trance, holding him hostage and refusing to let him go.

Will didn't want to feel like this. He didn't want to feel the attraction roiling through his gut. He wanted to hate the man, but something at the core of his soul still knew. Knew that they were always supposed to be mates, knew that this was the other half of him, knew that they were conjoined.

He bit down lightly on his lip as Hannibal leaned down further, closing the space between them. Hannibal’s hands - god, his hands - curled around the side of his neck, gently coaxing him up toward him, leaning down to close the space. Will could feel the alpha’s breath against his face, warmth blossoming over his skin. Shivers raced down the omega's spine, trembling as Hannibal came closer...

No.

Will pulled away before Hannibal’s lips could brush against his, pushing away from the alpha and moving to the opposite side of the bed. He felt his chest beginning to ache as he swung his feet off of the edge of the bed, hands gripping around his knees as he struggled to breathe. It felt as if all of the air had been sucked from the room, leaving him painfully breathless.

Hannibal felt disappointment crushing in his chest, cracks in his cold, stone heart as he sat upright. He didn't reach for Will, didn't move to touch him, didn't move to pull him back. He wanted to, wanted to make Will Graham feel his love; and god did Hannibal love him. It was a burning passion kindled in the pit of his soul, and no matter how much he had once wanted to smother it, it would not go out. Hannibal was in love with Will Graham.

“I'm sorry.” Hannibal whispered, that being all that he could choke out.

“No, I'm sorry, I just…” Will sighed, sounding frustrated. “I can't.”

They sat in silence, not so much as looking at one another. Hannibal turned to one end of the bed, Will on the other, backs to each other. Hannibal didn't know how to close the gap between them, didn't know how to fix this. He was a patient man, but every moment that passed with Will not loving him felt like the twist of a knife in his chest.

Will cursed himself for letting himself get so close. He cursed himself for not pulling away as soon as he woke up. He cursed himself for getting anywhere near Hannibal Lecter to begin with. He cursed himself for wanting it.

“I'm going to take a shower.” Hannibal eventually sighed, rising to his feet.

“Okay.”

Will listened as Hannibal padded against the hardwood floor, listened to the heavy slam of the door, listened as the water started running. Exhaling slowly, Will rolled over onto his side and curled back into the bed, no longer ready to face the day as he let sleep wash back over him.

-----

Will woke again to the sun glinting off of the freshly fallen snow through the window, nearly blinding him as he slowly opened his eyes. He grimaced as he rolled onto his back, turning away from the window. Too damn late in spring for snow. Will wasn't sure where they were, but he assumed Canada. Canada, or Hell. Not the Hell everyone thought of, but the 9th layer of Hell from Dante’s Inferno. Cold as ice.

Will cursed himself for knowing that, at least Dante’s interpretation of it, Hell is cold. Damn Hannibal was rubbing off on him.

Will jumped as he heard the door open and slam from the kitchen, bolting straight up. Feeling tight apprehension knotting in his gut, Will rose slowly, assuming the worst, mind running with the worst of possibilities. Jack Crawford had found them and had come to arrest them, take them away and lock them away, throw them in a hole and throw away the hole. Some roaming alpha had caught whiff of Will's scent and had come to take what he thought was his, not knowing that the omega could be a stone cold killer. Whoever owned this cabin had come home and Will would have to kill them, even if they were innocent.

He didn't know where Hannibal was, so Will figured that he would have to fend for himself. An unarmed, pre-heat omega, Will did not exactly pass for terrifying, leaving him vulnerable. He felt sick at the realization of his own vulnerability, stomach rising in his throat as he tiptoed across the bedroom. He wanted his gun, but he had left it in Hannibal’s house on the bluff. Hannibal wasn't one for guns anyways, and most certainly didn't have one lying around here. So, unarmed and weak as it was, Will walked slowly toward the bedroom door, hoping for some sort of peace treaty.

Will crept down the stairs and into the kitchen, silent until his eyes found the blood trail. He inched toward the kitchen, hands balled tight at his sides, wishing he had something, anything to defend himself. Bloody footprints trailed from the door and through the kitchen, heavy and staining against the hardwood. Someone was in the house.

Will crept into the kitchen, eyes following the bloody trail, until they landed on Hannibal standing in front of the fridge, dripping with blood, absolutely covered in the sticky red, staining through his clothes, staining his flesh, clinging in his hair.

Will blinked.

Will had only seen him so covered in blood once, on the edge of that bluff, clinging to each other in the moonlight. He’d seen him bloody before that, but never quite so covered as he was then, and never quite so bloody as he was now. The alpha looked different now, though. His eyes were somehow darker; his eyes had come alive at their consummation, but now they looked dark, dead, lifeless, almost. Will's heart stopped in his chest, throat tightening and body tensing, unable to breathe as he stared at the bloody mess of a man standing in front of him.

“Who did you kill?” Will whispered.

Will knew the man’s capacity for murder, and there was something terrifying about it. It wasn’t the killing that bothered Will, not in the slightest, but there was something terrifying about how easily Hannibal could kill just anyone. Will had the same capacity for it, and there were times when he scared himself thinking about how easy it would be. He knew that Hannibal had most likely slaughtered someone innocent, either for food or protection, and there was something that made Will’s stomach turn knowing it.

Hannibal tossed a burlap sack, now red and dripping with blood, onto the counter. As it slid across the marble countertop, the bag slid back and revealed what was inside. A large deer head poked out at him, staring up with dead eyes. There was nothing but bone connecting the head to the rest of its body. Following the deer, Hannibal tossed a knife onto the counter, letting it clatter against the stone.

“Bambi.” Hannibal mumbled, leaning back against the fridge.

All at once, the tension and anxiety that had filled the omega dissipated. He cocked an eyebrow before letting out a small laugh. It was ridiculous, the lot of it. Hannibal didn't hunt animals; he hunted sheep, or what he saw as little more than sheep. Hannibal was a murderer, a fucking cannibal, but now he came waltzing in with a fucking deer, looking more exhausted than he ever had after killing a person.

Will took a small step forward, pulling back the sack and examining the carcass. It was scrawny as shit, bones visible through its skin. It looked like a damn fawn, maybe, tiny and skinny and sickly. Will let out another laugh. The alpha was normally so skilled, easily killing his prey, but this ugly little thing had been an obvious struggle.

“What the hell did you do to it?” Will let out a laugh.

“I tried to slit its throat, but it didn't quite work as planned.” Hannibal explained with a sigh.

It had put up a fight, and it had been fast, faster than the old alpha. Hannibal had hardly been able to keep up, and even when he caught up, the sickly thing had put a fight. The alpha had never been one for killing animals, and he didn’t quite know their anatomy like he knew the anatomy of humans. He had struggled to kill it, and after that, he'd struggled to drag it back to the cabin. But he had eventually succeeded without making too much of a fool of himself, and they'd have dinner for at least a couple of days… Maybe.

“Why the hell didn't you use a gun?” Will inquired, chuckling as he rubbed his temple. Only Hannibal would try to kill a deer with a knife alone.

Without preamble, Hannibal reached into his waistband and pulled out a handgun, dropping it onto the counter with the deer and the knife. Will let out another laugh, shaking his head slightly. For a moment, Will almost wished that Hannibal had brought home a person. At least a person would have more meat on their bones than this.

“I tried.” Hannibal sighed. “I don’t like guns.”

“Fucking hell, Hannibal. Do you even know how to use a gun?” Will laughed. It was all so ridiculous. He couldn’t help himself from laughing.

Hannibal hesitated a moment. Had his skin not already been red from the cold and the blood, he would’ve blushed, embarrassment filling him. He had killed hundreds of people without so much as a second thought, but he couldn’t shoot a gun. Not really. He knew how it worked in theory, and could aim and shoot if he needed to, if he wanted to, but he wasn’t any good at it. Hannibal was so used to being the smartest in the room, the best at everything, but for once, Will was undoubtedly smarter than he was.

“Not really.” He confessed, voice coming out like that of a stubborn child.

Will couldn’t help himself from laughing. He felt bad for doing so, seeing how embarrassed that the doctor was getting. He knew that Hannibal liked to kill with his hands, liked to feel the life drain from his victims, liked to watch all of the light drain from their horrified eyes as they fell limp beneath him. But Will had never thought that he would kill so exclusively that way, to a point where he didn’t even know how to use a gun.

“Go take a shower and get dressed. We’re going to go find something that we can actually eat, and I’m going teach you how to shoot a damned gun. And not a fucking handgun; you can’t hunt with these.” Will rambled.

Hannibal’s brow furrowed for a moment, scanning over the omega. Will stood in boxers and a t-shirt, barefoot in the middle of the kitchen, scent still rolling heavily off of him. He was close to his heat, and Hannibal couldn’t imagine that he felt well enough to hike through the woods. He had never experienced heat or the symptoms that came before, but he had witnessed them, and he knew how Will tended to get in the days beforehand. He always felt tired, sick, rarely having enough energy to do what Jack Crawford asked of him, though he always tried. Hannibal didn’t want to drag him out into the snow like this.

“Your heat, Will. You can’t possibly…” He reminded the omega, voice trailing.

“Fuck my heat. I’m fine.” Will protested.

The omega had always hated his heat, for more than just the obvious reasons. It was quite possibly the most uncomfortable inconvenience a person could face, and Will had always despised it. He remembered his first heat, remembered not knowing what was happening to him, remember shoving two, three, four fingers inside of himself, stretching himself open to a point where he couldn’t sit straight for a week. He had felt unbearable amounts of shame during that, but what came after had been worse. Everyone he had ever known began to treat him differently; like he was fragile, like they might break him. That had been the worst of it. Will refused to show any form of weakness because of it.

Will reached across the bar, avoiding the carcass and grabbing the gun that Hannibal had sat down. It was a small, silver revolver, something that a woman would carry around in her purse in a bad part of town. Definitely not something for killing an animal with. The omega examined it for a moment.

“Where’d you get this thing? Are there any more? You got a shotgun around here?” Will inquired.

“Cellar. There’s an entire room full. I took the smallest one down there. I don’t quite know how to shoot anything larger.” Hannibal explained.

Will nodded. He decided against asking why there was an entire room full of guns if he hated them so much, already knowing the answer. This wasn’t Hannibal’s home. He had almost undoubtedly killed the owner, taking the cabin for himself. Will wondered if this would be their lives now. Killing and taking what didn’t belong to them to survive…

He pushed away the thought and headed toward the door as Hannibal turned toward the hallway, disappearing into the bathroom, blood trailing behind him.

-----

It was too damn cold for April. It may as well have been the dead of winter, snow nearly up to their knees as they trudged through the forest. Hannibal had bundled himself up in at least four layers, struggling to keep warm against the frigid breeze. Will, however, had opted for nothing more than his jeans, a t-shirt, and a flannel. He’d had a fever the past three days, and the cold was welcome. Anything to cool down, he supposed. Though this was a bit of extreme.

“Where the hell are we, even?” Will muttered, quietly trudging through the trees, Hannibal trailing behind him.

“Just outside of Snag, in Yukon, Canada. One of the coldest inhabitable places in the world.” Hannibal explained.

“Why here?” Will inquired.

“Is Jack Crawford or anyone from the FBI going to suspect a small, rural ice town in Canada? I made a mistake escaping to Florence. That was almost too obvious. This is… Quieter.” Hannibal replied, grappling to a low branch as he struggled through the snow.

“Good idea. Though I do wish we could go somewhere warmer. Where the rivers aren’t all frozen.” Will muttered, only half joking. He didn’t mind the cold, had never minded the cold, but there was something that he would miss about going out on a warm day and wading into the quiet of the stream.

“We’ll find somewhere warmer soon. For now, we’re safe here. Perhaps, once any media coverage of our disappearances dies down, I’ll take you to Europe. I’d like to show you Venice one day. Or Amsterdam. Amsterdam is beautiful, especially in the winter.” Hannibal mused.

The alpha wondered if Will would even want to join him, or if he would leave him once he was well enough to escape. Hannibal wasn’t quite sure that he would be able to survive Will being torn from him. Perhaps he could find a way to move forward and survive if Will were dead, though it would be a hell unimaginable, but if he just left… Hannibal knew that he’d be trapped in something of a vacuum, caught in a trap. If Will were dead, Hannibal would be able to carry the omega with him, either physically for a time or only in spirit… But if Will was gone, their conjoinment would be severed, and the alpha knew he couldn’t survive it.

He pushed the thought away as he ducked beneath a branch.

Will started to say something when his breath caught in his throat, pulling Hannibal back to a stop. Hannibal opened his mouth to protest, but Will immediately shushed him before pointing toward a small clearing a few feet away. Two deer stood grazing where the snow had begun to melt, completely unaware of their presence.

“Come here.” Will murmured, tugging the older man in front of him and handing him the shotgun.

The alpha strangled back a gasp as Will wrapped his arms around him, pulling him tight into his chest, the omega’s hands curled over his. Hannibal let the younger man show him, teach him, following his lead. He followed as Will helped him aim the shotgun toward the beasts, majestic and gentle in their own respects. Hannibal pushed back gently against Will, savoring every inch of him, so warm and alive.

Will inhaled, pressing his face into the side of the alpha’s neck. He took in his scent, the sharp smell of wine and hazelnut and pine, the smell of an alpha. Will had grown accustomed to his scent, had memorized it over the years, but it had been ages since he'd smelled it so close. He'd caught whiffs through the holes in the glass of his prison cell, smelled it beneath the mask of blood, but it had been years since he had been able to just inhale and take him all in.

He fought back a purr, content holding him there, no matter how much he didn't want to be. Will hated how much he had loved holding him, hated himself for wanting his touch. He pressed his forehead against Hannibal’s shoulder for a moment before rising to his toes, rising to the same height as the alpha.

Will guided his movements from behind, aiming the gun toward the buck. He felt Hannibal’s body relax against to him, melting into him. It was almost as if they were made to fit just like this, hold just like this. Will hated himself for allowing himself to think that way, but there was something undeniable about it. Like evolution or climate change. There will be those who will deny it til their dying breath, but in the end, it changed nothing.

“Pull.” Will whispered.

Hannibal pulled the trigger and felt the recoil rock against him, pushing him back further against Will. For a moment, Hannibal could feel Will’s heartbeat pounding through him. It was as if they were one person, two halves of a single whole, bodies conjoined and intertwined as their souls.

The gunshot exploded through the forest, sound reverberating off the trees, almost deafening as it rattled straight to the bone. The pound of feet through snow followed a loud thud against the ground. Red spilled against the snow, staining the white with red as the deer began to bleed out, the wound in its chest gushing. For a moment, the world was nothing more than red and white.

And then it was just Will.

Hannibal’s world, for just a moment, became the feeling of Will molded against him. Will’s arms around him, his body pressed impossibly hard against him, his breath on his neck, his fingers curled around his wrists… For a moment, the world was Will and only Will.

Will exhaled slowly, pressing his nose against his mating gland. The deer came second. For just a moment longer, slowly stretching into eternity, Will gave into his instincts and pressed himself up against his alpha.

“Good job.” Will finally said, pulling away. “Shooting like a pro.”

Will took a step toward the deer. It had died almost immediately, striking right into its heart. Far less bloody and painful than the first deer. Will could feel Hannibal’s eyes on him, but forced himself to ignore it. He had let him get too close, and there was something that felt dishonest about it. Like he was leading the alpha on when he had no logical intent on being with him.

But all logic aside, Will wanted Hannibal Lecter.

Hannibal stared, watching as Will walked away from him, sorely aching for the warmth of the omega's skin against his. He felt an ache in the pit of his chest, unsure if Will could feel whatever it was that the alpha felt, whether it be love or lust or infatuation or need or obsession. He wondered if Will could feel it too, if he was still so conjoined to him that each emotion could be felt between them.

Some part of him wished for Will to rush back to him, wrap his arms around him, however implausible the idea. He wanted to touch and be touched, hold and be held, love and be loved. And for a moment, as Will’s head shot back up and turned to him, he thought he might have a chance, though it sunk when Will opened his mouth.

“You gonna get your ass over here and help me get this fucker home, or am I gonna have to drag him all the way back myself??”

----

Will rebuilt his nest as Hannibal cut the meat, skinning and preparing the deer before wrapping the cuts and putting them into the freezer. There was something all too domestic about it, the quiet remarks and passive jokes as they went about their things, like two paths slowly intertwining. Hannibal and Will had been running at each other head on for so long, but now they walked the same path, and they were slowly beginning to touch.

Will pulled a blanket around his shoulders as he pulled the book he’d been reading onto his lap. He didn’t think he’d be reading for long, the grog of sleep already starting to cloud his vision as he curled up in his nest. He could feel the symptoms of his pre-heat starting to come to a head, and he knew that it wouldn’t be long now. Probably the next day, no later than the day after.

He still hadn’t given Hannibal an answer.

He had already made up his mind, but he wasn’t quite sure how to go about bringing it up again. He felt something like dread filling the pit of his stomach, concrete filling his lungs whenever he thought about it. He didn’t want this to happen, didn’t want to give into the feelings that consumed him, the feelings that had always consumed him, knowing that surrendering meant surrendering everything and trusting Hannibal again. It meant giving up what was left of his humanity and giving in fully to the beast that he had become, the beast he had perhaps always been.

Hannibal was his alpha, something like a soul mate, and Will had known it for years now. They didn’t need sex to prove that. There was no denying it, no matter how much he had wanted to, and god he had wanted to. He tried killing his attraction in all of the times that he had fantasized about killing Hannibal, all of the times that he had tried. He tried smothering it beneath Molly and Walter and his dogs, but at the end of the day, Hannibal was the last thing he thought about when he drifted to sleep, and the first thing he thought about when he awoke. No matter what he did, Hannibal was still his alpha, and they were going to have to solidify that at some point.

Will forced his thoughts aside and forced his eyes back onto the words on the page.

“Do you want anything to drink? I could make you tea, if you wanted. It might make you feel better.” Hannibal called from the kitchen.

“I don’t need you to pamper me, Dr. Lecter.” Will called back. He knew that Hannibal had pure intentions, just trying to make him comfortable until his heat came, but he didn’t want the special treatment.

“I was doing no such thing. It’s called being civil.”

Will smiled to himself, shaking his head. Hannibal had always been painfully polite, heat or no heat. Perhaps that was part of the reason why Will had grown to love him so much, at least in the beginning. There was something special about him, something all too kind about him. Of course, that had been before he’d learned about what, exactly, Hannibal was cooking, but…

“May I sit?” Hannibal asked as he approached the bed.

“You may.”

Hannibal slid into the bed next to him. He didn't push past the nest that Will had made for himself, and didn't reach over and touch him, no matter how much he wanted to. And God did he want to. He wanted to hold him like he had this morning, wrapped around him in a tangle of arms and legs. He wanted to press back against him, feel each inch of him pressed back. But he couldn't. Those had been circumstantial and in no way intentional, not the way this would be. Instead, he settled into his sliver of the bed, content just to be near him.

Will turned to the alpha, watching as he settled in. The omega could feel a shiver rushing down his spine, sending chills through his body, leaving him cold no matter how warm their cabin was. It wasn't voluntary; just an immediate reaction to the sight of his alpha. He slowly shifted onto his side, turning to Hannibal, studying him over as he settled deeper into his nest.

He bit down on his lip before inhaling deeply. He felt like he was standing at the edge of their bluff again, trying to decide whether or not he should take the leap of faith, throw all caution and logic to the wind. He had done it once before, and now he was going to do it again, abandon reason and the part of him screaming at him to run. To leave. To go back to the life that he had known before Hannibal Lecter ever came along.

That life was boring. And perhaps he would regret this. Perhaps this relationship, perhaps this side of Hannibal that he had shown over the past few days, was a ruse. Perhaps Hannibal would hurt him again, and perhaps Will would do the same to Hannibal, and perhaps they would be perpetually stuck in this loop of blood and pain and fire and death. But this was their life. This was the only life that they could live. It was useless fighting it any longer. No matter what Will said or did, no matter how much he tried to force himself away, his efforts were futile. Hannibal was his mate, and it was time to consummate their bond.

“You can… You have my consent. We can… You can have me. When I go into heat.” Will whispered.

Hannibal’s eyes widened for just a moment before smiling slightly. His heart skipped a beat. He had been so terrified that whatever this feeling was, this feeling beyond conjoinment and power struggle, this feeling of unadulterated love and domesticity, had been one sided. He would have never tried to push Will into anything, but words couldn’t express the joy, the excitement that overcame him in that moment.

He had waited for this for so many years that it felt like a childhood dream come true after all of this time. He had so often fantasized about his omega in heat, imagined him squirming and begging beneath him, imagined the way his mouth might open and his head might tilt back as his orgasm overcame him, imagined him lying with a look of bliss as the alpha’s knot popped past his rim, imagined the omega purring as his belly began to swell with his alpha’s seed… All of these fantasies, and now Hannibal had the permission to see them become his reality.

For once, Hannibal was left completely and utterly speechless. Will trusted him enough to give himself over at his most vulnerable, trusted him enough… He felt tears begin to perk up behind his eyes, heart fluttering in his chest. Will wanted him.

“Thank you.” Hannibal breathed, that being all he could get out.

Will rolled his eyes at the expression on his face. Hannibal Lecter always one to get sentimental over this sort of shit. It wasn’t special, not really. It was something that couples did every single day. They went into heat, they fucked, they mated, they bred, they perpetuated the species. They were animals, it was what they were designed to do. Just because Hannibal Lecter thought himself a god, it didn’t make them any different. This was just basic biology.

Though Will couldn’t deny that there was something different about their case. Perhaps it wasn’t truly special in the eyes of the world, or in the eyes of nature, but in their lives, after all of this fighting, after the constant power struggle, after it all, finally giving in would undoubtedly be something beautiful.

“Oh, don't get all fucking sentimental on me, Han. I'm going into heat, that'll make you go into rut, it'll be almost impossible to keep our hands off of each other and anything else would be torture… We’re mates. There's nothing we can do to stop that or help it. Might as well just go with it.” Will teased.

Hannibal let out a small laugh.

Will smiled as he leaned back, turning back to his book. Something between anticipation and anxiety filled him, but he pushed it away. He had always known that this would happen eventually, no matter how much he didn’t want it to. No matter how angry he was with Hannibal for putting them in this situation, he knew that it wasn’t a sustainable anger. Perhaps he had known it all along. No matter what they did to each other, no matter how they hurt one another, in the end, they would forgive each other every time. It was dysfunctional and fucked up, but neither of them were ever going to be able to let go. This was just the next step.

The doctor’s eyes followed Will, unable to tear his eyes away. He looked tired, sick, even, but still as beautiful as ever. His blue eyes darted across the pages of his book, lost in the story, lost in his own thought, somewhere far away from here. In the dim light of their new home, the moon bright through their window, Will looked as though he was made to dance among the stars, like a greek god written in constellations.

“May I sleep next to you?” Hannibal whispered after a moment of silence.

“Yes.”

“May I touch you?”

Will paused for a moment before nodding. He was reluctant, but the barrier of physicality had already been broken. They had woken up in each other’s arms, Will had pulled him close and taught Hannibal to shoot, Will had consented to allowing Hannibal to take him, hold him, fuck him in his most vulnerable state. There was no use in trying to rebuild the physical barrier now.

Will sat down the book on the nightstand, feeling sleep beginning to grog his senses. He shifted onto his other side, giving himself over to being touched. It was a vulnerable position, his back turned to the alpha. Hannibal could so easily press himself up against the omega and strangle him, wrap his hands around his throat and kill him before Will could even process. He knew that Hannibal would never do that, but he could if he wanted to. And still, still, still, he let himself be vulnerable.

Hannibal shifted, moving the fortress of pillows until he was pressed against the omega, nose pressed in the crook of his neck, arms wrapping tightly around him. He inhaled his scent, sweet and overpowering. The scent of his heat rolled off of him now, strong, his heat so close already. It wouldn’t be long now. The next few days at most.

Will felt himself melt into his touch almost involuntarily, pressing up against his alpha, feeling every inch of him pressed back against him. He could feel Hannibal’s erection pressing against his thigh, but he didn’t point it out this time, rather savoring the way that it felt against him. He could feel slick beginning to roil in his stomach and threatening to spill out of him. He savored the feeling of his body pressed against him, arms wrapped tight around him… Whether it be logical thought or his heat talking, it didn’t matter. For perhaps the first time in his life, he felt safe.

“Goodnight, Hannibal.”

“Goodnight, Will.”

Chapter Text

Will Graham went into heat the next morning.

He woke to the feeling of slick dripping down his legs, soaking through his boxers, the damp heat pressed insistently against Hannibal’s erection. A hollow ache shook him to his bones as the omega instinctively began to grind up against his alpha. Anything like rational thought flew right out the window, disappearing beneath the haze of heat and need.

“Hannibal…” Will whined, voice cracking as he pressed himself harder against Hannibal’s swollen prick. It was so hard, long and heavy and fat with his arousal, pressing hard against the dampness in this boxers. “Alpha.”

Hannibal woke to the thick scent of heat hitting his nose and the blinding pleasure of Will grinding up against him. He could feel himself devolving as anything like rationality disappeared beneath the endless mantra of fuckmatebreedfuckmatebreedfuckmatebreed. He could feel his knot beginning to swell already, Will’s sweet voice whining and name on his tongue having the alpha growing impossibly harder.

Hannibal’s hands stretched over Will’s hip, pulling him back and pressing him harder against him. Hannibal’s hips began to blindly thrust into the damp heat between three layers. It wasn't satisfying in the slightest, in no way comparable to the tight heat. Hannibal had fantasized for years about how it might feel to sink deep into Will’s body, and now… Digging his nails into the pale skin of Will's hip, creating constellations of pink crescent moons beneath them, Hannibal tugged him onto his back before climbing overtop of him, straddling his thighs.

Will let out a moan as he absently thrust up against Hannibal, trying to encourage him on. He could feel the bulge in his pajama bottoms pressing insistently against him, already so big trapped within the confines of his clothes. Will whimpered, imagining what it would feel like inside of him. He had never taken anything other than his toys and his fingers, nothing nearly as big as an alpha’s knot. Will could feel how big he felt within the confines of his cotton pajamas, and he would only get bigger as his knot swelled and caught inside of him. God, he needed it inside of him.

Hannibal wasted no time, feeling the urgency in his omega's whimpering moans, needing to be taken by an alpha. His own instincts controlled him, this intense need to be inside of his omega filling him until his mind was filled with nothing but an instinctive need to fuck and breed. He dipped his fingers beneath his waistband and tugged his boxers down, ripping them away and tossing them aside. Hannibal took him in, drinking in every inch of him. He was so beautiful.

His dark curls were plastered to his forehead with sweat, his lips raw bitten and pink, his blue eyes blown wide. His skin was paler than it usually was, even in the cold light of the sun glinting off of the snow. He was a masterpiece, a work of art. Hannibal could draw him every day for eternity, could sketch him onto paper, and he would never be able to fully capture the beauty that lay beneath him.

It was all so surreal. It all felt so perfect in that moment, Will beneath him, naked from the waist down, lost in the throes of his heat and begging for the alpha. Hannibal was beginning to question as to whether or not this was even real, or if it was all a deluded fever dream. Hannibal had never been truly able to fathom that he might be so lucky to be right here. Will had asked him to service him through his heat, to mark him, to claim him, to breed him, to make love to him. Will had turned Hannibal into the luckiest man in the world.

“My omega…” Hannibal whispered as he tugged Will’s t-shirt up over his head, discarding it and taking him in whole.

He was toned, but not overly muscular, and he was soft in the center. Will was roughly the same size as the alpha in terms of height and weight, but as Hannibal towered over him, he felt smaller than that. His cock was heavy and straining against his belly, pre-cum smearing over his skin. It was smaller than the alpha’s, maybe five inches or so, but he was thick, making up in girth what he lacked in length, though Will certainly wasn’t lacking anything. He was a masterpiece, positively stunning. Slick dripped down his thighs, soaking the bed, staining Hannibal’s pajama bottoms, the omega positively soaking. The alpha had known that omegas produced more slick during heat, but he had never realized just how much. Hannibal’s fingers trailed down the length of his body, over his neck, down his chest, over his belly, touching lightly at the scar that he had left there all those years ago, grazing over his thighs…

“Please, alpha.” Will moaned, pressing up against him.

Will knew somewhere in the back of his mind, somewhere beneath the static of fuckmatebreedalpha, that Hannibal would want to take his time with this. It was just in the alpha’s nature. But Will was having none of it. He didn’t want to wait, didn’t want a moment of hesitation. They had been too far apart for too long, and Will needed the separation to end. They had been conjoined at the soul for years now, but never in any way other than spirit. He wanted to be conjoined physically, wanted to feel his alpha inside of him. He needed the feeling of him moving inside of him, slamming directly against the sweet spot tucked just within him. He needed to feel the stretch and burn of Hannibal’s knot popping inside of him. He needed to feel the ache of his alpha’s seed filling him painfully full. He needed it.

“Shhh…. I’ll take care of you, Will.” Hannibal murmured, letting his fingers sink between his thighs. He probed at Will’s rim, shuddering at the feeling of a new wave of fresh slick dripping over his fingers in response to his touch. He slid in a finger, met without an ounce of resistance. Will’s body knew to open to him, knew that this was his alpha, knew that he was ready to be taken and fucked and bred, and Hannibal was more than happy to oblige.

Will let out a noise that was somewhere between a whine and a moan as Hannibal pressed in another finger. Hannibal hardly had to touch him and he was already squirming; he hadn’t even touched his prostate, and Will was already holding back moans at the pleasure of it all. The hollow inside of him demanded to be filled, the pain demanding to be soothed as he pushed back against Hannibal’s fingers.

Will gripped hard at the sheets beneath him as he threw his head back, lost in the throes of his pleasure as Hannibal added a third finger, the stretch at his rim, the feeling of being so full already having him desperately rocking onto Hannibal’s digits. Will let out a small whine as Hannibal pressed his arm over the omega’s hips, holding him still as he continued working him open.

Then Hannibal curled his fingers and rubbed.

Will let out a howl of pleasure, back arching sharply as his toes and fingers instinctively curled around the sheets. Will had experienced some amount of pleasure during his heats before, but the majority of the time was spent seeking to appease the ache rather than chasing pleasure. But this felt different. The ache that spread through him was less urgent, less desperate, less painful, and the pleasure was more intense than anything that he had ever felt before.

Hannibal palmed at his own erection through his pants as he worked Will open, trying to memorize each and every inch of him, the sight of him quenching the thirst that had been growing since he first met the omega. He wanted to remember every single thing; each expression and micro-expression, each little moan that escaped his lips, each cry torn from his throat whenever the alpha touched that magic little place inside of him. He wanted to memorize the precise angle of the arch in his back, wanted to memorize the way that Will’s body clenched around his fingers, the way that his rim fluttered around him in attempt to suck him in deeper, the thick scent that filled the room and nearly smothered him… He wanted to remember this moment until the day that he died.

“Han, please.” Will whined unabashedly.

The omega was squirming beneath his touch, growing far too impatient for this sort of preparation. His body was made for this, made to be claimed by an alpha, made to take his knot. He was built to be fucked and knotted and bred, and for the first time, he could really feel how true that was. This right here was what he was built for. Living endlessly through heat and rut, to be knotted and bred, to carry Hannibal’s pups… This was what he was made to do. This was what he was made for. He didn’t need so much preparation. He needed Hannibal inside of him.

He couldn’t keep denying him the pleasure, nor could he continue denying it to himself. Hannibal slipped his fingers out of the boy, wiping slick-drenched fingers onto the sheets, ignoring the mess. He’d change them later. He propped himself up on his knees before pulling Will’s legs up, pulling them around his own waist. He undid the button at the top of his pajamas, shifting around his clothes until his cock was freed from the cotton cages before tugging off his sweater, deciding to leave the rest. Part of him wanted to pull everything off, leave both of them in their most vulnerable states, but Hannibal wasn’t quite sure that Will could wait any longer.

Will glanced between them, watching as Hannibal reached down and wrapped a hand around his swollen cock, erection thick and heavy between his legs. Will let out a shuddered gasp, seeing it in full for the first time. It was longer than anything that he’d ever seen, even in pornography. He rocked against Hannibal, hoping to urge him on, wanting to feel it inside of him, the hollow ache suddenly intensifying as he stared. Will watched as Hannibal gave himself a cursory pump, mesmerized as he watched the foreskin glide over the head, smearing pre-cum down the shaft…

Hannibal lined himself up with the omega’s twitching hole, pressing against the rim as another bout of slick gushed from Will’s body. Inhaling sharply, he pressed in, slow and careful. He could feel that Will had never been opened up like this, never taken something as big as an alpha’s knot. Hannibal restrained himself, clinging to whatever was left of his rational thought. It took everything in him not to slam straight into the omega, take him fast and rough, chase his impending orgasm. But this wasn’t about him. This wasn’t about his own pleasure. This was all about Will.

The doctor reached down and wrapped a hand around Will’s cock, slowly stroking him as he pressed inside, the tight heat engulfing him as he struggled to breathe, let alone keep his composure. Will let out a small, high pitched whine as Hannibal stroked him, rubbing his thumb against the slit, and the alpha could feel him opening up to him as his body began to relax, adjusting to the feeling of his cock inside of him.

“Does this feel alright?” Hannibal murmured, fingers of his free hand running through Will’s curls as he settled in at the hilt. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”

Hannibal was too far away. Will pulled him down over top of him, wrapping his legs tighter around his waist. He could feel the thickness of his swelling knot stretching and pulling at his rim, the small sting at the edges, but it was all so good. His cock nudged directly against that spot inside of him, pleasure pulsing through him as he clung to his alpha, pressing his face into the crook of his neck. He struggled to rock against him, needing more, needing him to move, to slam into him, to deliver thrust after brutal thrust into him.

“So good, Han. Oh, you're so big.” Will whimpered, fingernails digging into his back. “Breed me, alpha.”

Hannibal gave a small smile and finally let go of whatever restraints had been holding him back. Wrapping his arms around the omega, he let his thrusts set a brutal pace, slamming deep into Will. He knew that he had never taken anything like this, that this was his first time having sex with an alpha, so there was some level of gentleness in his thrusts, but what lacked in sheer force was made up for in speed.

Will didn't bother to hold back the noises that Hannibal was bringing from his lips, knowing that his efforts would have proven futile anyways. Hannibal’s hips moved at a brutal speed, each thrust slamming directly against his prostate. He let out a moan with each movement, each thrust delivered into him, letting the sound of his moans and screams and whines and groans be the only thing filling the halls of their cabin.

Will had never felt anything quite like it. He'd always hated heat, the whole ordeal vastly unpleasant, but this time was different, pleasure coursing through him, striking him to the bone. It wasn't just due to the fact that he had an alpha, though he was sure that was part of it. But it was his alpha. It was Hannibal’s cock moving inside of him, moving with such purpose, each pointed thrust pressing right against that place inside of him, sending pleasure like he had never felt before.

Hannibal let out a small groan as he thrust into Will’s damp heat. Part of him wanted to cry for joy, but the primal urges within him won over, letting his possessive nature show instead. His fingers dug into Will’s hips, leaving bruises in their wake. He wanted to mark Will in every way that he knew how, wanted to claim him, wanted to make it plainly evident that Will Graham belonged to him.

Their wounds were still fresh, which perhaps kept them from being any rougher. Hannibal could tell by the sound in Will’s voice, the whimpering moans, the cries of pleasure urging him on, that Will Graham was insatiable, and had it been any other time, the alpha would have taken him faster, perhaps rougher, though still gentle in all of the ways that counted. But he had to be careful not to tear any stitches, reopen any wounds.

Will didn’t really care about his wounds, though. Any ache and pain that he might have felt was drowned out beneath the hollow ache that spread through him like a disease, a need like hunger, a need like suffocation… He needed Hannibal like he needed food, he needed Hannibal like he needed air.

“Alpha… Mmmm… Breed me, Hannibal. Fill me up with your pups.” Will pleaded. His instincts were screaming at him to breed, to be filled by his alpha's seed until his belly was swollen with it, to be knotted again and again until he came out of his heat inseminated, impregnated with his alpha's child. If he was lucky, if he was a good omega, he may end up with a litter, and the thought excited Will’s hazed mind even further. The idea of being stuffed so full of Hannibal’s litter, carrying two, three, four pups… The very thought, whether by his own accord or strictly due to his heat, had his stomach flipping, another bout of slick rolling down his thighs.

Hannibal could've come right then, pushed right over the edge by Will’s quiet pleas to be fucked and bred. He pressed his lips against the side of his neck, kissing gently at the bare flesh, suckling lightly as he continued to move inside of his omega. He could imagine Will heavy and kicking with his child, could imagine watching his omega grow thick with his pups. He let out a shuddered moan at the idea of it, hips picking up speed as he gripped tight to Will. He had wanted a family with Will for so long now; he had wanted Abigail to be their child, but now, now they could have their own. Will was begging for it.

“Such a good omega… Going to breed you so full of my pups, Will… My perfect omega… Going to carry my children… Give me a litter…” Hannibal murmured as he pressed in further, further, pulling Will into a position so that his hips were angled upward, ideal for breeding.

“Yes, Han, please!” Will moaned, head thrown back against the pillow. “Give me a baby… Fill me up, Han, make my belly swell with your pups.”

He was begging now, babbling almost incoherently. Will had never been one to beg for anything, but Hannibal had reduced him to a rambling mess, forced him to his knees, begging to be filled like some bitch male. But he didn’t feel like a bitch male. He didn’t feel so lowly, didn’t feel like the dust of the earth, but it was rather murmured like a prayer, begging to a god he didn’t believe in. Hannibal had become his new religion.

The alpha could hardly contain himself, wanting to cry out, wanting to do something, feeling like he was about to burst and he wasn’t quite sure might come out. Will’s voice was enough to reduce him to this, and he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself as he pushed deeper inside. He could’ve knotted him right then and there, but he was determined to make Will come first.

“Sweet boy…” Hannibal whispered, voice cracked and shaking. “You’re going to give me such a big family… Going to carry my pups…”

Will let out a small whine and dug his nails deeper into Hannibal’s back. His skin was raked with long, red lines, leaving his marks on his alphs. He felt his cock twitching as he struggled to breathe, rocking back against him.

Hannibal's hand searched for purchase in their soiled sheets as he pressed harder into his omega, pressing insistently against his prostate, trying to provoke as many moans and cries of pleasure as he could. He let out a small, possessive growl as he tore the sheets off of the corner of his mattress, burying himself into the hilt of Will’s twitching hole before pulling almost all the way out and sliding back in, repeating the process, applying much more force and purpose behind each thrust. Will’s body contracted around him each time, reaffirming that he had struck just the right place. As if Will’s fingernails drawing lines in his back and his unabashed moans hadn't been affirmation enough.

“Mylimasis…” Hannibal whispered, breath hot against the omega's ear, sending chills down his spine.

Will bared his throat to the alpha, revealing his mating gland to him. Will could already feel himself getting close, so close, balls drawing tight against his body. He could feel Hannibal’s knot forming, feeling his hips faltering as he struggled to thrust deeper. With trembling hands, Will rocked back against the alpha and threaded his fingers through his silvery strands, pulling tightly as Hannibal pushed roughly into him.

“Mark me.” Will moaned. “Make me yours.”

Hannibal pulled away slightly, shocked at the request. He supposed that he had known that this was bound to happen, that they would bond and the scars on their skin would forever signify this conjoinment, but he hadn’t entirely expected Will to ask for it. Perhaps it was just the fevered begging of an omega in heat, but it sounded so genuine, so real…

“Are you sure?” Hannibal breathed, hips faltering as he stared down into those blue eyes.

For the first time since his heat had started, Will felt a certain amount of sobriety flood over him, and he knew at the very core of him that this was what he wanted. He could deny it all he wanted, but this was precisely what Will Graham had wanted since he’d met Hannibal Lecter. He wanted Hannibal’s mark against his skin, this eternal marker of what they were. He wanted to be filled with his alpha’s children, wanted to create the family that he had dreamt of since he was a child rather than settle for cheap imitations. He wanted to live some ideologue’s fairytale of what he and Hannibal could be.

With sobered eyes and a fairytale playing out in his heat-fogged mind, Will nodded sharply before baring his throat to Hannibal again.

Hannibal ran a hand through his lover’s hair, pushing deeper into him and before leaning down and pressing his lips against the mating gland on his neck, inhaling his scent, almost drowning in it as he slowed his pace, deciding to make love to him more reverently. Will’s moans echoed in his ears, surrounding him and holding him captive. He slowly snaked a hand down between them and wrapped a hand around Will’s cock, letting his thumb play around the glans as he stroked in time with his thrusts. Will’s breaths became loud and uneven, letting out whines every few moments. He was getting close, oh so close, and Hannibal could feel it.

“Come for me, Will. Let me feel you, darling.” Hannibal urged, striking that sweet spot inside of him again and again as he smeared pre-cum down the omega’s shaft.

Will’s orgasm overtook him without warning, everything exploding at once as he came all over Hannibal’s hand, the whitish, watery fluid smearing over their bellies as he came hard. Will let out a cry loud enough to echo through the forest as Hannibal’s teeth sunk into his neck, skin breaking and blood perking up from it. The mix of the pain and pleasure had him writhing and howling until he could hardly handle it.

The sight that Will made beneath him was stunning, more beautiful than anything that he had ever seen before. His eyes had rolled back in his head, his hair damp with sweat and plastered against the pillow, moaning so prettily beneath him as he rocked through the aftermath of his orgasm.

Hannibal pulled himself out of Will’s body, tugging his boxers and pajama bottoms the rest of the way off, tossing them across the room. Will let out a loud whine at the loss of contact, looking positively pitiful. Hannibal hushed him, running a hand through his dark curls in attempt to soothe him.

“Roll onto your belly, sweet boy. If I’m going to fill you up, if you’re going to carry my litter, our chances will be better in this position.” Hannibal explained quietly, nudging Will over onto his stomach. The omega immediately complied, taking position and immediately revealing himself to the alpha, his hole exposed.

Hannibal ran a finger over his back before guiding himself back to Will’s gaping hole, sliding back into him. He was still so tight, even after being so thoroughly fucked. Hannibal was close, painfully close to coming, but he held himself back from ramming deep into him fast and hard. Will had never taken a knot before, so Hannibal reminded himself that he needed to be careful, needed to be as gentle with him as possible.

“I’m going to knot you now, mylimasis. It’s going to hurt a bit, but I promise, as your heat progresses, it will get easier.” Hannibal reassured.

Lost in his post-orgasm haze and still under the fog of his heat, Will nodded absently, head pushed into the pillows. He echoed the word ‘knot’ under his breath as Hannibal began to push deeper inside, gently pushing himself past his rim and filling him again. He let out a small whine, squirming with the oversensitivity, but that hollow ache had yet to subside, and Will knew that it wasn’t going to subside until Hannibal knotted and filled him.

The omega let out a small whine as the thick base of Hannibal’s cock began to penetrate him, pushing past his rim. It stung at the rim, and Will tried to resist, tried to pull away from him, the sharp sting of it being too much as he clutched the sheets.

“Hush, Will… It’s okay. You’re okay… You were made to take my knot. Omegas are designed to take their alpha’s knot.” Hannibal reassured, draping himself over Will’s body as he pressed himself deeper inside, feeling Will’s resistance.

“It hurts.” Will mumbled, pressing his face into the pillow before biting down hard in attempt to smother a yelp of pain as the thickest part of Hannibal’s knot began slowly pressing past his rim.

“I know, mylimasis… It won’t hurt for long. Once you’re knotted, it won’t hurt as much. And then, I’m going to fill you with my semen, and I’m going to fill you up with my litter. I’m going to knot you over and over, until your heat ends, and once your heat is over, you’ll be full of my children, and you’re going to give me so many puppies… We’ll have a family again, Will. I’m going to give you another child, as many as you want.” Hannibal encouraged quietly, pressing in slowly, as gentle as he could be.

Will struggled back a whine, deciding to try and be a good omega for his alpha, trying to quietly submit to being filled and bred. He wanted this as much as Hannibal did, wanted to take it, wanted to be bred, at least underneath the haze of his heat, but it hurt.

“Such a good omega…” Hannibal murmured before reaching between Will’s thighs and cupping a hand around his quiescent cock, slowly stroking it in attempt to bring him back to hardness, hoping to make the pain more tolerable. He felt Will beginning to tremble beneath him, sucking in a hard breath as he struggled to breathe, fingers digging into the sheets.

Finally, Hannibal felt his knot pop past the rim, catching and locking the two of them together with no hope for escape until it deflated and Will was thoroughly bred. The sensation was beyond anything that he ever could have imagined, letting out a long moan as his orgasm washed over him. The feeling was blinding, leaving him trembling as he emptied himself into Will’s body.

Will could feel the thick, hot ropes of cum fill him, the warmth spreading through him as the pain subsided. He let out a sigh of relief, a sleepy feeling filling him as Hannibal emptied himself inside of him. He came hard, so hard, and Will could practically feel his semen pooling at the opening of his cervix, though he couldn’t tell if the sensation was real or imagined. He let out a quiet purr as Hannibal curled around him, covering him like a blanket and holding him tight, rocking slightly each time his orgasm took him over again.

“Such a good boy… You’ve done so well, mylimasis… My omega. My darling omega.” Hannibal mused quietly as he absently stroked the back of Will’s hand, lips pressed against the bloody, bruised mark on his neck, occasionally pressing his tongue against it in attempt to stop the bleeding.

“I love you.” Will whispered. Perhaps he meant it, perhaps those words only tumbled from his lips because he was tired and in heat, perhaps both. But Hannibal didn’t dare say it back, no matter how much he meant it. He couldn’t.

“I know.” Hannibal answered in reply, voice quiet and shaking as tears threatened to spill from his eyes. His sobriety was beginning to come back to him as he lay there, urges quelled for now. He knew that, come morning, once their time like this came to an end and Will’s heat subsided, he wouldn’t mean it anymore. There would always be two battling sides of Will Graham, part of him that would never be able to forgive the alpha, and part of him that would always want to. But there would never be something like this, this pure, unadulterated ‘I love you.’ Will would never be able to mean it.

As the tears began to roll from his eyes, Hannibal kissed at the mark on Will’s neck again. “I know.”

Chapter Text

Will woke up four days later. The haze of his heat had finally cleared, after days of near-constant sex. He vaguely registered a dull ache between his legs, and the sleeping body next to him. His limbs felt heavy, and he felt sore all over, and every inch of him was covered with slick and cum and sweat and general dirt from not having left the bed in days. The persistent, perpetual ache that had filled him was gone now, replaced with a general feeling of heaviness, of tiredness.

It slowly started to come back to him as he realized what had happened.

His heat had overcome him. Hannibal had fucked him. Hannibal had mated with him. Hannibal had knotted him. Hannibal had bred him.

Hannibal, the same man that had killed the only daughter figure that he had ever had in his life. Hannibal, the same man who had taken a blade to his stomach to punish him, gutting him for something that any sane person would have done. Hannibal, the same man who had pulled him from the sea and forced air back into his lungs… That very same man had been the very same man that Will had let into his body.

Will rolled onto his back and looked down at himself. He was messy with his own cum, but he could still see the scar that stretched the expanse of his stomach. The only sign that Will should've needed to remind himself that this was a bad idea. He could still remember to burn of the blade dragging through him, tearing through his body. He could remember the pain as he struggled to keep his knees from buckling beneath him, could remember the searing pain that had ripped through him as Hannibal held him there…

He could remember how Abigail had willingly walked to her fate. He could remember the look on Hannibal’s face, one of cold hurt and betrayal and misguided rage. He remembered the bitterness in his eyes as he pressed the blade against her neck, reopening the wound that had nearly killed her before, finishing the job this time. He could remember drowning in the sea of blood.

Abigail had been their child. Hannibal had said it himself; they were her father's. They were supposed to look after her, supposed to take care of her. They could have been a real family, running away together and living like fathers and daughter, a little family of their own. Perhaps, in another world, they could have had a big family with Abigail in the center of it all. But Hannibal had taken that from them. Hannibal had murdered their child to get back at him.

Suddenly, Will felt sick.

He had consented to all of this, had wanted all of this. He had been a fool, forgetting their past in hopes of something better, but that better something could never be. It would always be a cycle. There was no breaking it, there was no escaping it. There would be these impossible highs when they felt on top of the world, higher than the sheep that chastised and shunned them, when Will could swear that he could touch heaven, the stars just out of reach. But it would never fail to crash again, and they would crash and burn until they were trying to kill each other again. All that they could ever have was blood and pain.

And maybe Will could live with that. He knew what he was signing up for, and if that meant living for the highs and fighting to survive through the lows, then so be it. He knew that he was stupid for choosing this for himself, but if he was going to live at all, this would be how he would have to do it. He could live for the moments when Hannibal held him tight, could live for the moments when the adrenaline of the kill pulsed through their veins, could live for the kisses and the laughs and the domesticity, even knowing that there would be an even worse hell for every heaven they had.

But he was bringing a child into all of this.

It wasn't like Abigail, who could have run away at any time, get away and disappear and live a relatively normal life. This was a child growing inside of Will’s belly, helpless and entirely dependent on him. This child would need him for the next nine months, and the next eighteen years after that. He was going to bring a child into Hannibal’s world, and with Hannibal’s dark tendencies and his obsessions with Will, he was putting the child inside of him at risk.

What had he done?

Will jerked himself out of the bed and bolted into the bathroom, collapsing on the floor and hugging the porcelain bowl as the little contents of his belly immediately rose into his throat, forcing its way into the toilet as he trembled. He heaved into the bowl, trembling as the dirty water splashed against his face. Tears sprung into his eyes as he gagged, stomach turning in the worst of ways. He was pregnant, carrying his alpha’s child, or children. There was no way that he couldn't be. Hannibal had knotted him over and over, had positioned him in ways that promoted conception…

They would have their highs and their lows, heavens and hells, and he knew that their pits would lead to Hannibal doing exactly what he did to Abigail. Hannibal would never have the balls to kill Will, just hurt him, but Han could never love anyone like he loved Will. He would never love anyone so much, and because of that, he would have no problem killing the child they had made together, because they could always just make another. Hannibal would use their child as leverage.

Hannibal would kill their child.

It didn't matter how much he trusted Hannibal. Maybe he could learn to love him, learn to live with him, learn to coexist. Maybe he could learn to trust him with his life. But Will Graham could never trust him with the life of their child. This was no life for a child, neither of them truly suited for family life, no matter how much either one of them wanted it. Their hells would kill a child. They were monsters that killed anything they touched. And they would kill their child.

Oh god, what had he done?

----

Will forced himself to believe that nothing resided within his womb. He forced himself to live in a self made bubble, a lie he'd construct for himself until it all came crumbling down, until he could no longer deny it. Until every pregnancy came back positive, until he missed one heat and the next and the next, until his belly began to swell, until he could feel his child kicking inside of him, until he gave birth to their child, some little monster of a thing. Will would do whatever he could to deny it.

Until then, he pretended that it was all alright.

There was something special that he shared with Hannibal, and he didn't want that to end when he remembered what the doctor, the monster, could do to him and the child within him. The next time something broke, the next time there was some small betrayal or some hard time, he would kill the child that grew within him in order to get his revenge. Will was sure of it. But until then, until that happened, he pretended like nothing was wrong. He pretended like his womb was as empty as it had been the day he went into heat. He pretended, because if he didn't, he wasn't sure what he might do.

“It's getting warmer.” Hannibal announced as he entered the living room, taking his seat on the sofa next to his omega, handing him a cup of tea and wrapping an arm around Will’s shoulders.

The alpha ran a finger over Will's neck, over the nicely healing scar that resided there. It was clean, as clean as a scar from a bite mark could be, which was more than he could say for most omegas. Hannibal could barely keep his hands off of it, admiring the feeling of the mangled skin beneath his fingertips. Hannibal had left his mark on Will before, but it had been an act of cruelty, an act he regretted to the core of him. This mark, though, was a mark of love, left there affectionately, in the throes of heat and passion.

“Yeah?” Will replied, taking a careful sip of tea. It was sweet, but fresh, like spring.

“Forecast puts this week around ten degrees.” He announced.

Will furrowed his brow. “Because ten degrees is so fucking warm.” He scoffed.

“Ten degrees Celsius, Will.” Hannibal laughed. He was trying to start using strictly Celsius, trying to get Will to learn. He doubted that they would be returning to the U.S any time soon, and the rest of the world used Celsius. “It's around fifty degrees Fahrenheit.”

“Ah.” Will replied with a small nod. He settled deeper into Hannibal’s arm. Despite all of the conflicting feelings, Hannibal’s touch and this newfound domesticity comforted him endlessly. He buried his face in the crook of Hannibal’s shoulder for a moment, breathing in the smell of him before turning back to his tea.

“There's a river not far from here. We could go fishing once it thaws.” Hannibal suggested, secretly hoping that Will would hold him in the same way that he had when he'd taught him to fire a gun.

They had touched since Will’s heat, quite a bit, really. Hannibal felt no real need to hold himself back, and nor did Will, at least as far as he could tell. Sometimes he zoned out, or his touches came off as restrained, but that was just Will being Will. But Hannibal hadn’t once kissed Will, and he wasn't sure what was stopping him. They had only had sex during heat, but aside from small kisses against his neck, their lips hadn't met once. He wanted to do desperately, but he didn't know if he could handle rejection should it come.

The idea of fishing again drew a smile to Will’s lips. Wading into the quiet of the stream, surrounded by nothing but the quiet chirping of birds and the rush of cold water as he cast his line. He could stand in the river for hours, and oddly enough, the idea of Hannibal standing by his side made the idea all that much more appealing.

“What are you watching?” Hannibal inquired after a moment, gesturing toward the television.

“Avengers. The first one.” Will answered, leaning back and kicking up his feet.

Hannibal let out a hum in reply as he leaned back into the sofa, turning toward the television himself. He had never been one for movies or tv himself, always preferring his books and the theater to movie screens, but Will seemed interested, so he supposed that it could be worthwhile.

“Who’s that?” Hannibal inquired, gesturing to a man in a suit.

“Phil.” Will answered without a moment’s hesitation.

“Phil?”

“Phil Coulson. He's a S.H.I.E.L.D agent. And he's probably gay for Clint Barton, even though I think that they're both omegas. Don't quote me on that, I haven't actually read the comics, but I'm pretty sure. They're definitely fucking, though.”

“Are they? Is there a scene, or..?”

“No, it's just… Implied. Subtext. I mean, you can't spell subtext without buttsex.”

Hannibal laughed, louder than he'd laughed in a long time. He was typically quiet whenever he laughed, but the joke had caught him off guard, and Will had been so quiet lately… The doctor’s eyes tore away from the screen in favor of watching his omega. His eyes were so bright, alive and sober and happy. He just looked content, like he was truly happy just being there. He had laughed, had been happy, but this looked like it could be more maintained. Like this could be their lives rather than a single moment in time.

“Oh, oh, this is Captain America. And Iron Man. Tony’s kind of like Steve’s side bitch. Like… They're probably fucking, but Steve’s actually in love with Bucky, who’s not actually in this movie. Steve thinks Bucky’s dead, but spoiler, he isn't. So right now I think Steve and Tony are fucking, but when Bucky comes back, Tony gets really fucking butt hurt because Bucky sort of stole his boyfriend, even though Bucky was Steve’s boyfriend first.” Will rambled.

Will had never been a massive superhero movie nerd, not until 2011 when he watched Captain America for the first time. After that, the movies had intrigued him, and he'd become entwined with the characters. His empathy tended to make it so that he became easily attached to characters, but never as much as these. He had become obsessed with the dynamics between the characters, liked to play around with ideas about them, but never spoke of it. He wasn't sure why he was now.

“Then Thor has probably fucked his brother. I mean, they're not blood, but still…”

Hannibal melted into Will’s words, listening as he rambled on about characters and storylines that he didn't recognize. It was enough to just listen to Will talk about something that he was almost passionate about. It was enough just to hear his voice. It was enough.

----

The sound of plastic clattering against tile was what roused Will from his trance, a trance that only lasted a second but felt like it lasted an eternity. Nausea washed over him again as the flashbacks started. Abigail in Hannibal’s arms, blood everywhere… Will’s hands clutched the sink as he struggled to breathe and struggled to keep the contents of his stomach down.

Two pink lines ran across the pregnancy test.

He was pregnant.

He had known it from day one, but he had tried so hard to just deny it. Denial had worked for awhile, but when Will missed his heat, Hannibal had gone out and bought a cheap box of pregnancy tests from the convenient store a few miles away. No matter how much he tried to deny it, no matter how much he wanted to will the cruel reality away, he no longer could. With the two lines appearing on the test, his denial dissipated.

With shaking hands, he leaned down and picked the test back up. He struggled to bite down his fear, or anger, or terror, or whatever the hell he felt. He ran his thumb over the small, pink lines as he choked down a gag. There was a child growing inside of his body - Hannibal’s child.

He felt sick. He wasn’t sure if it was morning sickness or anxiety, but he found himself struggling not to heave breakfast back into the bathroom sink. Rocking back and forth, he pressed a hand against his stomach. It was mostly flat still, if a bit pudgy, but no bigger than usual. It would be weeks before he started to show. But even if he couldn't see them, feel them, the lines were proof that they were there. At least one child had taken up residence inside of his body.

This was no life for a child. Hannibal, no matter how much he might want to, could never be a father to it in the way that it deserved. Hannibal was possessive and manipulative and always had to have his way, and Will… Will was headstrong, and they were so identically different… Things were bound to clash, and the child that was growing inside of Will’s belly would be caught in their crossfire. Even if they both managed to survive their wars, their child would either grow up in the battlefield, or they would end up with a bullet through the head, or a knife to the throat.

Will ran a hand tightly through his curls before turning toward the bathroom door, walking out on wobbling legs.

Hannibal stood just outside, having been pacing outside the door, anxiously awaiting the results. Will had known that he had wanted a child, at least if how he had acted during heat survived into sobriety. The look on his face now, his big eyes staring expectantly up at him, only confirmed that. Hannibal was going to take one look at that pregnancy test, and he'd be thrilled.

The omega was almost afraid of what Hannibal would do once he realized how he had reacted.

“I'm pregnant.” Will blurted out.

The words came like the crash of the ocean against his skin, salt stinging in his wounds and water filling his lungs. He balled his hands into tight fists as he struggled to hold back saying anything else, knowing that if he voiced anything else, Hannibal would break down. He would cry, or he would become the devil he truly was, or he would simply decide to seek revenge by killing the child himself, along with Will.

Hannibal’s face lit up, and it made this only that much harder. Will wondered if he had ever seen him so happy; he smiled more with his eyes than his mouth, but his eyes held so much emotion that it nearly cut Will to the core just looking at him. It was like a stab to the chest seeing his joy, his love and happiness worn plain on his sleeve for all the world. It made him look so human for once, no longer the devil that Will had once thought him, nor the god that he thought himself.

“Will…” Hannibal whispered before taking a long stride toward him, wrapping his arms around the omega and pulling him tight into his arms, lifting him off of his feet and spinning him around, holding tighter to him than he ever had. “My darling omega… Oh, sweet boy, carrying my child… Myliu tave, mylimasis.”

Will bit back tears as Hannibal swept him off his feet and carried him to the bedroom, gently lowering him onto his back on the bed before taking his place beside him. He didn't look directly at the alpha as he reverently rolled up the bottom of his t-shirt, exposing the bare flesh there. Soon enough, his belly would swell, and he'd grow heavy and thick with Hannibal’s child. He could imagine Hannibal touching him with even more reverence, worshiping his distorted form, massaging and cradling his baby bump, savoring each time the baby kicked against his palm…

Will struggled back a whimper, trying to hold back the tears that were beginning to leak from his eyes.

Hannibal pressed his hand against the small pudge, pressing up against the pale flesh. Just inside, a few inches down, his child, a real, living, moving being, a being that would grow to be some precious, beautiful, cunning little thing with time. Cunning and brilliant and perhaps just a bit stereotypically evil. But what else, exactly, could come from Will’s loins? Their child was bound to be just like them, though Hannibal secretly hoped that their child would at least look like Will.

The look of pure worship and adoration that Hannibal had on his face was enough to make the tears spring forth, no stopping them now. He would let Hannibal assume that they were tears of joy, even though they were tears of the deepest sadness that he had ever known.

“You’d be roughly… Seven weeks pregnant?” Hannibal mused as he stroked his lover’s belly. “At seven weeks, little hands and feet are beginning to form. They don't look human, yet, little more than a cluster of cells, really, but they're growing quickly. They're roughly the same size as a blueberry right now.”

Will let out a ragged sob at the idea of their child growing inside of him. They were so small, so innocent, and yet that tiny little thing inside of him was theirs. He and Hannibal had created it. They had burnt things to the ground, slaughtered and destroyed and made their destruction beautiful. But now, they had created something beautiful all on their own, and…

“Shh… Don't cry, mylimasis. This is a beautiful thing.” Hannibal whispered in attempt to reassure his weeping omega. He wasn't sure what the tears were being shed for, but he chocked it up to pregnancy hormones making him emotional.

Will nodded slightly as he tried to wipe his tears away, but each time he rubbed his eyes, the tears kept flowing. Slowly, Hannibal rose up, propping himself closer to Will’s face, keeping a protective hand cupped around his belly. He was never one for such gestures, not really, but his omega was crying and he wasn't sure why. He could feel the ragged shake with each breath that Will struggled to force into his lungs, felt his body tremble with each sob, and he couldn't handle it.

“Shh, sweet boy.” Hannibal murmured before leaning down and pressing his lips against Will’s cheeks, now red and tear-stained. He kissed away the tears as best he could, trying to show him some form of comfort, a comfort that he had never been able to get from Hannibal. Hannibal no longer wanted to be his therapist, the person trying only to mold him, never truly there without some ulterior motive. For once, he just wanted to be Will’s rock, wanted to be the solitary thing that his darling omega could truly hold tight to.

Will’s eyes, bloodshot and watering, caught hold of Hannibal’s as the alpha slowly pulled away. Will's hands balled into tight fists around the alpha’s shirt, holding him still and refusing to let him go. He feared that, if he let go, he would never find purchase again, caught in this never-ending free fall until he hit the pavement and cracked every bone in his body, only to be met with blinding pain before dying in the ambulance on the way to the hospital.

Hannibal's eyes weren't as dark as Will had originally thought.

He had been certain that they were dark brown, almost black. But they weren't that, not at all. In the dim sunlight, Will could see that they looked much lighter now, almost like sunshine shining through a glass of whiskey, a color he knew too well. They looked warmer now, too. Will had always thought of them as cold and unfeeling, but they were so bright and alive in that moment, filled with love and adoration and compassion and empathy…

In some final, desperate attempt to hold onto something solid before he fell into the void of the unknown, Will pulled Hannibal down to his lips, capturing his mouth for the first time.

-----

Will waited until Hannibal was asleep to peel himself out of bed. It didn't take long for him to doze off, their lovemaking so slow that they had lasted well into the night, and Will was surprised that Hannibal didn't immediately collapse. Instead, he had taken his place further down the bed, face pressed against his belly. He had quietly rambled on about medical facts about pregnancy, mostly incoherent until he fell asleep.

It had been tricky to maneuver around him without rousing him, but he'd worked himself free and slipped out of bed undetected. From there, he slipped into the living room, grabbing a notebook and pen, scrawling down a note.

I can't keep it. I'm sorry. Don't hate me.

WG

----

Hannibal drove down the beaten dirt path, drumming lightly against the steering wheel as he searched for his omega. He wasn't exactly sure where Will had gone, but he figured that he couldn't have gotten far. Either way, he wasn't going to stop searching for his omega. He would follow Will to the ends of the earth.

He wasn't angry, not really. He felt hurt. Ached to the very core of him. But he wasn't angry. He could understand. Hannibal had hurt him, and perhaps he had wanted a family under the haze of heat, but after the fog was cleared and he could remember exactly what kind of monster Hannibal really was, the doctor wasn't shocked that he would run away. That he would want to get rid of their child.

But even so, he wasn't going to let Will leave him with nothing more than a three sentence note scribbled down in blue ink in a notebook containing the grocery lists and birthday reminders of an old man. He needed closure in the least.

Suddenly, as he turned into yet another well-worn path, identical to the last forty, he saw the figure of a man walking. Will Graham, in a flannel and jeans, carrying nothing more than a backpack full of what Hannibal was sure were mere essentials, walked along the side of the road, thumb outstretched in hope for a ride to town.

Hannibal pulled up beside him and rolled down the window. “Need a ride?”

Will turned to see Hannibal peering through the window. Shit. He felt his blood run cold and face blush hot at the sight of him. He didn't look angry; just sad, which was a relief, but Will couldn't help but be wary of him. Will continued walking, picking up speed, but Hannibal matched his pace in the car, refusing to leave.

“I didn't mean for you to be up this early.” Will mumbled when he wouldn't take the hint.

“I noticed the lack of heartbeat in the pillow after awhile.” He replied bluntly.

Will just kept walking, hoping that Hannibal would get the hint that he didn't want to talk. He was going to get out of these woods, find his way to the nearest omega clinic, and he was going to erase this mistake. He, of course, probably wouldn't survive the emotional ordeal afterward, but if it meant keeping his child safe from Hannibal's wrath, then it was worth it.

“I don't want you to get hurt. There are no clinics around here that do abortions for male omegas.” Hannibal announced, and Will knew that he was probably right. Omega males were deemed rare, so whenever one became pregnant, it was damn near impossible for one to get an abortion. “I'll set up an appointment for you, if you truly believe that this is what you want.”

Will’s brow furrowed tightly, stopping in his tracks as he stared at the alpha in shock. This wasn't what Hannibal wanted, Will knew it. He wanted the child, wanted to build a family, and yet… Yet, he was offering to help him kill the child that they had made together. Despite how much he wanted it, despite his own best interests… Will stared back at Hannibal for a long moment, his gaze caught in his… This was new. This was selfless.

“You… You what?” Will stammered.

“I will get you to a proper abortion clinic. I cannot force you to carry my child. I will not be that alpha. It's your choice. I love you, Will, and if loving you means letting you do what you feel you need even if it hurts me… I will love you all the same.” Hannibal assured, stopping the car.

Will stared with wide eyes. Hannibal never… That man didn't make sacrifices of he didn't have something to gain from it, if it didn't mean he had to upper hand in some way. But this… He wasn't trying to convince him otherwise, wasn't trying to change his mind. Hannibal Lecter was going to give Will what he thought he needed, even if it broke his heart.

“Please, Will, just… Come home.” Hannibal pleaded.

Will stared for a moment, heart aching in his chest. “Would you have me? After what I'm about to do to your child, this gift you've given me… You want me to come home with you? As far as omegas go, I'm about as shitty as you can get. You still want me to come home with you after all of that?” Will asked, dumbfounded.

“Do you want to come home? Just you and me, no child, no strings attached?” Hannibal replied.

Will nodded.

“I want nothing more than for you to come home. As much as I love this child, I understand that you cannot trust me enough to keep it. I know you'll never truly forgive me for Abigail… But if you trust me enough with your own life, if I can still have you… That would be enough.”

Will stared a moment longer before pulling open the car door on the passenger’s and climbing inside, taking a seat next to Hannibal. He held out a hand for the alpha to take, wanting to touch him again, wanting something to hold onto, wanting something solid. The day's events had him beaten, weary and broken. He needed something like an anchor, even if that anchor was as weak and rusted as he was.

“Take me home.”

----

Hannibal scheduled an appointment with a doctor about two hours away for the following Monday. Will could see his heart breaking while he talked to the doctor over the phone, see the torment in his eyes while he set up the appointment that would kill the only child he had ever made, the child that he had given his omega. This hurt him more than Will thought it would. He knew Hannibal was excited, but he hadn’t realized just how much he had wanted this until he saw him giving it away.

Will went to bed early that night.

Hannibal crept in the bedroom a few hours after his omega had turned in for the night. He was sleeping on his back, something he rarely did. His hand rested on his belly, though he didn't touch the place where in their child resided, but rather over the long, jagged scar that Hannibal had put there all those years ago. It was as if Will was reminding himself why he was doing this, and for the millionth time that day, Hannibal’s chest ached with the shattering of his heart.

As silently as he could, Hannibal slipped into the bed next to his omega, slowly wrapping an arm around his waist and resting his head on his belly. He wouldn't be able to do this for long, and he wanted to hold on while he still could, even if it was only for a few moments. He cupped a hand around his lower belly, rubbing his thumb over the pale skin, their child still residing in Will’s body for now, until Monday, at least.

The baby didn't have the ability to hear or see or sense anything outside of its own dark little world. It would feel nothing, nothing more than gametes and zygotes, a cluster of cells, really. But it was still their cluster of cells. It still had so much potential. But, as much as it killed the doctor, he had to let it go. But if they were going to go, Hannibal would make sure that their child, with its half developed brain and lack of all senses, by some miracle… Their child would go knowing that it was loved by Hannibal Lecter.

Tracing circles into Will’s skin, he let his shaking voice slip back into his native tongue as he recalled a song that he used to sing to Mischa.

”Čiūčia liūlia dukrytėla
Mano mylimoji
Kiek jau kartų per dienelį
Tavį pakilojau
Pakilojau panešiojau
Patalėlį klojau
Čiūčia liūlia dukrytėla
Mano mylimoji
Auk didutė būk greitutė
Mano dukrytėla
Čiūčia liūlia dukrytėla
Mano mylimoji.”

The omega woke to the quiet sound of singing, but didn't dare stir, instead opting to listen to the words that he didn't understand. He could feel Hannibal touching him again, could hear the absolute heartbreak in his voice. He was doing this to himself, letting go of something he deemed so precious, for him. He was letting himself hurt for Will’s sake. No ulterior motive. No benefits other than being able to keep Will around. For once, he wasn't manipulating the situation. He was being selfless for once.

As Hannibal’s song to their unborn child ended, Will reached up with one hand and ran a hand through the alpha’s silvery strands, quietly letting him know that he was awake. With the other hand, he cupped his fingers around Hannibal’s, pressing down against his own belly, letting himself feel where their son or daughter was growing, letting himself love it for what it was for once.

Maybe Hannibal had changed for him. Maybe their hells wouldn't hit so hard. Maybe he wasn't as brutal as he once was. Maybe they could have a family together.

Maybe Will was willing to find out.

“That was… A lovely song, Hannibal.” Will remarked quietly. “But you’re not allowed to teach our kid any languages I don't understand so that you two can talk behind my back. You'll have to sing them something else.”

Hannibal’s heart fluttered in his chest, eyes wide as he stared up at the omega. It took him a moment to realize what he meant, but everything that had shattered within him came alive again.

“Of course. Anything. What song would you suggest?” Hannibal replied through barely restrained tears.

“I dunno. I didn't have the best of mother figures so I don't know any lullabies, really…” Will answered, his fingers stroking through Hannibal’s hair. It had gotten long in the past few weeks, Will noticed. “Oh, hang on, I got one.”

Will reached over to the nightstand, grabbing his phone and quickly finding the song in his playlists. He wasn't sure why he had it, but he was glad that he didn't. He clicked on it and let the music blast through the quiet cabin, letting it come alive again.

“Two to the one from the one to the three
I like good pussy
And I like good trees
Smoke so much weed,
You wouldn't believe
And I get more ass than a toilet seat…”

Hannibal let out a loud laugh ass he pulled the phone away from Will, the mood suddenly lighthearted again.

“You'll do no such thing.” Hannibal laughed.

“Hey, I'm carrying them, so I decide their taste in music.” Will retorted.

Hannibal smiled, staring up at the omega with wide eyes, full of hope and life once again. Will smiled back down at him, and for the first time, all of the sins of the past were washed away and they were left like this. An alpha and omega, expecting their first child, normal in a way that they had never fully comprehended until now.

“I love you.” Hannibal whispered.

“I know.”

Chapter Text

It was really beginning to look a lot like Christmas.

Hannibal had set up the Christmas tree, having gone out and chopped down his own. Will had offered to help, had wanted to, but with their twins heavy and kicking inside of him, and only being three weeks away from his due date, Hannibal had refused to let him so much as venture out into the cold. Will never put up too much of a fight, though. If it meant that, at the end of the day, Hannibal would sit with him and look up at him with those dark eyes and touch him with all of the reverence of a god, then Will supposed it was worth it.

Besides, he was ready to pop, and he wasn't sure he'd be able to waddle all the way back home, lugging a big ass Christmas tree behind him.

But he had helped decorate, despite Hannibal’s persistent warnings, telling him to be careful, or sit down for awhile. Will had tried to hang ornaments, but he had never been one for Christmas before now, and he evidently was very bad at hanging ornaments, so Hannibal went through and redid almost everything, at least until Will started pouting and he left things the way they were, though Will suspected that he was slowly moving them when the omega wasn't looking.

Will sat by the fireplace with a book in hand and a Santa hat on his head, put there by the alpha as he finished with last minute decorations. Hannibal busied himself around the cabin, finishing with the lights and the stockings and the ten million presents under the tree, which Will highly suspected were all for the babies.

Finally, Hannibal took a seat on the sofa next to the omega, wearing a small, smug grin on his face as he pulled Will’s feet into his lap. His dark eyes followed Will, refusing to look away for even a second. Will peered over his book for a moment before opting to ignore him, the alpha prone to being fucking weird, but when Hannibal wouldn't stop staring, he sat the book down and let out a half-irritated sigh.

“What’s wrong with you?” Will chuckled.

Hannibal didn't reply with words. Instead, he just pointed upwards toward the ceiling, mistletoe hanging above them.

Will rolled his eyes as Hannibal climbed over him, pressing his lips against the omega’s. Will laughed and complied, kissing him back despite the awkward positioning, Hannibal doing his best to work his way around the bump, though it wasn't exactly easy to do. He was carrying two six pound babies inside of him, both of them rambunctious as hell, and maneuvering around them was quite the task, but they found their ways.

Hannibal’s lips pressed against the scar on his neck, now faded but still prevalent, there for Hannibal to find and reopen whenever he wanted. The alpha’s hand pressed against his belly, feeling their children move inside of him, smiling as he felt one kick against his hand. Will smiled as Hannibal worked his way down, lips trailing over his collarbone, pulling his sweater away. Will wasn't quite sure where this was going, but he knew that he liked it…

Hannibal’s lips trailed down over his belly, pressed against the scar that had been etched across his skin for so many years now, touching him with such reverence… But as Hannibal got further away from his face Will’s attention turned back to the TV, suddenly more interested in “Elf” than he was in sex.

“Hannibal.” Will whispered, pulling him back up to his face, pressing his lips against the alpha’s one last time before pulling away. “I have something important to tell you.”

Hannibal cocked an eyebrow.

“I'm here, with my dad, and we’ve never met, and he wants me to sing him a song, and, um, I was adopted, but you didn't know I was born, but I'm here now, and I found you, daddy…” Will sang, with a dead serious expression, mimicking the TV.

Hannibal rolled his eyes.

“And, guess what, I love you, I love you, I LOVE YOU!” Will sang out, movements exaggerated as Hannibal shook his head.

Will laughed and pulled the alpha back down to his lips. Their relationship had turned into something so different than what it had been. Where it had once been blood and pain and lies and betrayal and darkness, it was lighthearted now. Light had seeped through the cracks and what had once hurt now brought joy into their lives.

And beneath the snow outside, the crackling of the fireplace, the stupid Christmas movie playing on the TV, Will pulled his alpha down to kiss him again, smiling as he pulled him close. And for once, all was well.

THE END