Notes: This is a Hannigram fic that is relatively canon to the show. It begins just after Will takes Abigail back to the kill shed and loses time.

Disclaimer: Not all chapters will contain violence, sex or manipulation, but I'm sure many will. Consider this a warning for all triggers as I will not be separately tagging chapters. I don't plan on trying to traumatize anyone, but I don't want to stifle my creativity. :P

Searching For A Form Clarity

Hannibal pulled what was left of Abigail out of her oven and began carving the meat before Will woke up. The blood on the floor hadn't been cleaned up but was beginning to dry. Hannibal carefully avoided getting his shoes in the small puddle but gracefully moving around to lean over Will and serve his plate. After the food was set on the small table Hannibal noticed Will's curls tangled around his head. Impulsively Hannibal began to fix them, combing his fingers through his hair. Satisfied, Hannibal gave Will a small smile and sat down waiting for him to wake up on his own. Hannibal rose as Will's slumped figure began to stir. Will's eyes fluttered open and Hannibal's hands steadied his head.

"How are you feeling Will?" Hannibal asked in his usual demeanor.

"Where am I?" He asked with sleep in his voice.

"Abigail's house," Hannibal said sitting back down. Will began to look around.

"Where is she?" he asked scanning the kitchen. He recognized that near Hannibal was the corner in which Garret Jacob Hobbs had died.

"Do you remember what she told you a few hours ago, in the work shed?" Hannibal asked pouring the red wine.

"S…she killed those girls. She was the bait, the lure…" Will said slowly shaking his head. "I imagined I killed her."

"Were you angry with her?"

"I felt sick."

"She was surviving. Her father would've killed her," Hannibal said swirling his glass of wine.

"Hannibal, you knew," Will said closing his eyes and swallowing.

"I tried to protect her," Hannibal said. Will took a deep breath.

"What did you do?" Will asked becoming more conscious. His food came into focus. The atmosphere was different than Hannibal's dinning room, but he felt as if he was there just by looking at the plate. The food was delicately arranged and Hannibal had taken décor from around the house to set the table. He had an exquisite taste for aesthetics.

"Only what I could do. It seems Abigail could not escape her fate," Hannibal said taking a bite of something off his plate.

"H…Hannibal…" Will said with shaky breath. He knew what the food was. He imagined Abigail's body hidden somewhere dark, parts of her missing, sliced off for this meal.

"Our Abigail was going to get herself caught. Jack knew and Abigail was ready to open up to Freddie Lounds," Hannibal said cutting his food.

"I've been…" Will said closing his eyes. The man he had made this friendship with, this something else he had felt for Hannibal… it stuck in his mouth all sticky with betrayal.

"I could only protect her for so long," Hannibal said. "Now all we can do is honor her."

Will almost choked on the little spit there was in his dry throat. Tears began to cloud his vision fiercely but he had to get up. Will scooted back his chair violently to get away from the table. The wine knocked over and started to spill, dripping right next to the blood while his plate toppled and crashed on the floor. Hannibal stared at it thinking about Mischa briefly and watched as Will stood up. He held his hand out to the wall but his sweaty palm had him slipping.

"Don't, Will you are making a mess," Hannibal said coming to Will to help him away from the wall. As he approached, Will felt fear swell in his chest and reached for the gun that was no longer at his hip. Hannibal put his hand on Will's and reached for his other arm. Will pulled away and started screaming at Hannibal for what he had done.

"Why are you doing this?! How can you be the- you were my friend, you- all the time we were talking and I let myself actually feel for you," he pushed Hannibal into the blood and his shoes glistened in it.

Hannibal felt something hot boiling in him. This was not anybody and this somebody had made a mess of his food. He stepped forward again as Will dragged himself around the table, hanging on to the chairs and knocking them down with his drugged weight. Hannibal came after him and maneuvered chairs blocking his path. Quickly Hannibal stopped Will from making it full circle around the table. He grabbed Will's wrists as Will pushed with all his might making Hannibal take a step back, but he did not let go.

"I am still your friend, those feelings haven't changed," Hannibal said trying to reason with Will.

"She didn't have to die, you didn't have to kill her," Will yelled. His glasses had fallen off his face and lay broken on the floor.

Hannibal forcefully walked Will away from the blood and towards the cabinets. He pinned Will's wrists over his head and got inches from his face. He stared into the watering eyes and used all his power to keep Will still. He breathed calmly waiting for Will to hold still on his own.

"I did," Hannibal said. "And now she is sitting in her own blood over there because you refuse to understand yourself."

"Myself?" Will spat indigently. He kept trying to slide down out of Hannibal's grasp.

"Yes," Hannibal said pulling Will back up by his wrists and pushing harder against the cabinet.

"What have you been doing to me?" Will asked, his insides turning.

"I've been helping you realize yourself though you slither away from it like a blind snake," Hannibal said, his hair hung over his forehead, just in front of his maroon eyes.

"You've been confusing me. I trusted you," Will screwed up his face in emotional pain. His heart felt like it was beating against a current.

"You can still trust me," Hannibal said. "Please eat."

"How?" Will asked. He had stopped moving.

"No differently than you did before."

Will wanted to vomit but resisted the urge.

"You are sick. I do not empathize with you," Will said gritting his teeth.

"No? But you do. You understand something about me that scares you. You don't have to be afraid. It's ugly to lie, Will," Hannibal said. He lowered Will's hands but kept a firm grip on both wrists.

"I can't eat Abigail," Will said definitively.

"You will let her go to waste?" Hannibal asked staring into Will's chestnut eyes.

"She was trying to get away from all of this," Will said feeling Hannibal's hands never loosen.

"She was all this," Hannibal said rubbing his thumbs on the inside of Will's wrists. "And it was okay. She was never going to live a normal life. Instead I helped her how I could, but in the end she did this to herself."

"In your mind you saw no other way," Will said shifting uncomfortably.

"And how different is my mind than yours?" Hannibal asked.

"Unspeakably so," Will said deadpan. Hannibal became still and he stared at Will's face. He let go of Will slowly and he did not move. Carefully Hannibal backed away from Will and began to pick up the broken plate scattered across the floor.

Will felt hot shame in his face. His mind began to piece together what Abigail's alternatives would've been. Prison for one, Freddie Lounds spreading slander, not a single boyfriend or girlfriend, ultimately trapped in her mind. If she got out of prison she would not have a single friend. She would have Will and a miserable life.

Will fought with himself over the idea of eating Abigail. On one hand, in the totally conscious side he knew it was absolutely vile, something that would change him forever. But on the other hand he was already changed, Hannibal had changed him. For worse maybe, but he was who he was. Hannibal was his friend, more than a friend he felt something that bordered beyond infatuation. His alternatives were few, Hannibal was capable of true horror and Will didn't want to experience that. In fact he was drawn more towards the idea of making Hannibal happy with him ignoring the personal consequences. Who Hannibal really was, was up for debate at the moment. But the person that Will had thought he had known related to him; there was an undeniable connection they had shared through their conversations.

He felt broken inside, and felt maybe eating her would fill in the missing pieces. The last thing he said to Hannibal had only been in defense of himself, but it was not the truth. Hannibal had entered into him and wasn't leaving. His thoughts and actions made rational sense in Will's mind and he coiled around them instead of being repulsed. His empathy and his instincts became one, his moral code another. The law and what was supposed to be right and wrong were clear in his head, but it didn't matter. This was his world with Hannibal now.

Hannibal swept up the pieces and put a towel down over the blood. His suit was ruined, Will's clothes would have to be burned as well.

"How many of your victims have I eaten?" Will asked watching the blue cloth grow darker.

"I stopped counting," Hannibal said.

"Can this be the last?" Will asked.

"For you," Hannibal smiled. Together they picked up the chairs and straightened out the table. Hannibal served Will a new plate with a fresh glass of wine. Will sat looking at his plate, his eyes squinting at the meat. He cut a piece and carefully scooped it onto his fork mimicking Hannibal. He hesitated and saw Hannibal sneaking a look under his lowered lids. The fork hovered in the air and a pang of love tugged at Will. It was love for Abigail and what she suffered for, but also love for Hannibal and whatever had driven him to this. He put Abigail into his mouth. Hannibal smiled and his maroon eyes were ignited by the sunset. It was a fitting memorial service that no one else could've provided.

After a few bites had silently passed, Hannibal spoke.

"I am proud of you, Will."

"Are you patronizing me?" Will asked sipping his wine.

"I don't mean to be. It just pleases me," Hannibal said.

"I just want it to be over," Will said.

"I suppose you'll stop investigating me now?"

"I'll go back to strictly lecturing," Will said giving Hannibal a sleepy smile.

'What will Jack do?" Hannibal asked.

"He has more important things in his life to deal with, Bella is dying," Will said.

"Do you think he'll let you go so easily?" Hannibal asked.

"No. I'll convince him. He tried to make me go once before, I'll just let him know he broke his fine China. Though you could me help too," Will said.

"That could be arranged… temporarily," Hannibal said finishing his plate.

"Conditions?" Will asked drinking more wine.

"I have options?" Hannibal asked, his eyebrow raised.

"You have power," Will said lowering his glass.

"As long as my hobby is not being threatened I'll take a hiatus," Hannibal said. Will looked surprised.

'I don't like to make promises I cannot keep, so I will tell you this; if I want to, if my pros outweigh my cons, I'll do it," Hannibal said now drinking his wine. Both of their lips were starting to stain red.

"You're telling me you won't stop," Will said.

"I don't like to deny myself of much," Hannibal said.

"Why tell me you'll attempt a hiatus if you have no intention of doing so?" Will asked.

"I am torn between myself and pleasing you," Hannibal said.

"What a struggle that must be for someone like you," Will said.

"You should be grateful I-"

"Haven't killed me?"

"No, that I want you," Hannibal said, irritated that Will interrupted him.

"You should be grateful I like you," Will said.

"'Like'? You are trying me," Hannibal said standing up to collect Will's plate. With both dishes stacked neatly on top of each other in one hand, Hannibal leaned down to Will's ear. His lips brushed the fine hairs on Will's earlobe and he inhaled deeply through his nose. Pulling away only a fraction, he licked his lips. Nonchalantly he straightened up and began washing the dishes over at the sink. Will's flesh held goosebumps, his heart sank to the middle of his chest and anxiety clenched him.

Quietly Will finished his wine and considered how he was supposed to live with himself. The next few steps in his life were not in his hands, Hannibal held the leash.