Disclaimer: nothing belongs to me. Hannibal and all related characters belong to their creators. This story is for fun and entertainment only and I am not profiting from it.
He was innocent.
That didn't surprise him. He'd known that for a very long time, since the day he'd taken Hannibal to Minnesota and told him that one of them was the killer. He'd known that for the whole time he'd been locked up in the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane, he'd known it for the whole time throughout the trials. He was innocent. Hannibal was not.
The problem, of course, had been that Hannibal had had everyone convinced of his own innocence, that his only part in all this mess was to be Will's unfortunate psychiatrist who'd failed to notice the fire in Will's mind.
Hannibal had also managed to frame Will for the murders, so intricately and delicately that it was almost impossible to pick apart.
But then someone had discovered a copy of the real results from Will's brain scan, realised Hannibal had known about the encephalitis before, realised that this gave a motive for Dr. Sutcliffe's murder. And suddenly it was Hannibal being investigated.
And Will was innocent.
It took a long time to prove it, and still there were those that were sceptical. Even Alana had been sceptical at first, though, hardly able to believe that there was a possibility Will was innocent. Although she never once blamed him, she'd accepted long before then what Will's illness had done to him. What it had made him do.
.
"Will," she'd said, when coming to visit him one day, "they're saying you were framed. Jack says you were framed."
He'd nodded. "Hannibal."
She'd avoided his eyes, instead staring at the bars between them. "We're going to have to prove it," she told him quietly. "We're not out of this mess yet."
The tone of his voice had immediately alerted him to the fact something was wrong, but he hadn't even had to ask the question before she answered.
"I recommended him to Jack, Will! I told him I wouldn't do the psychological profile – I wanted to be your friend – and I told him to get Hannibal instead. It's my fault he was able to do this. I -"
He'd stopped her there, unable to let her go on blaming herself. "It's not your fault," he'd reminded her. "It's Hannibal's. There was no way you could have known what he would do."
.
He sighed, looking around him. The small cell seemed so much smaller to him now than it had just yesterday. Yesterday, though, he was stuck here. There was no way out, nowhere else he could go. Now, it was just a small part of his world. And in less than an hour, he was going to walk out of here and never, ever come back.
It was such a strange concept to grasp. After all, he'd spent so long stuck here thinking, this is it, this is all I'll ever have now.
This last hour, though, passed more slowly than any hour he'd ever known before. He wondered what was happening now, what paperwork exactly was being filled out, and why they couldn't just let him out straight away.
Eventually, the seconds turned to minutes and the minutes added up. Ten. Twenty. Twenty-five. Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty. Slower and slower and slower...
"Will Graham," the guard said. Will jumped and stood up, leaving an impression on the bed. The only mark he would leave on this place.
The guard unlocked the door and nodded to Will, who walked out. He fiddled with the sleeve of the dark jumpsuit, knowing it wasn't long until he'd be able to take it off.
At first, the guard followed him down each corridor, opening each door for him and closing it behind them. Eventually, though, they reached the last door, into a room where Alana waited, and the guard walked away.
He was free.
He hardly had time to process this before Alana's arms wrapped around him, pulling him close. They'd been forbidden from this gesture for so long...
"Will," she whispered in his ear. He expected something to follow, but nothing did. Maybe she had nothing to say.
"Will," she said again.
"Hey," he answered. "Hey, Alana."
They didn't let go for a very long time.
.
It was cold outside.
Wintery winds blew their hair into messy haystacks as soon as they stepped out of the door, and Will immediately stopped walking, cherishing the weather.
"Will? Is something wrong?" Alana questioned.
He shook his head, smiling up at the sky. "I'm free," he told her. "This is..." He gestured around him, to the grass and clouds and road. "...new."
She smileed, wider and more sincere than he'd seen her smile in a long time. "You'll get used to it," she promised him. "Come on."
He followed her to her car, still slightly disoriented by freedom and the wind, and climbed into the front passenger seat. Not the back seat, not like every time he'd been taken to trials and courtrooms and whatever else.
She drove him home first, and the feeling that rushed through him upon seeing his house again could not be described using words. A warm feeling that filled his heart and flooded his body, the race of memories to his brain, the way the blood surging through his arteries sped up. Nothing could describe it completely; it was something that had to be experienced.
The dogs weren't home – they were still at Alana's, under her care. He'd have to call Animal Services and get them back... He smiled slightly, remembering a conversation he and Alana had had in an interrogation room a long time ago. Whenever had come at last.
He wandered through his house aimlessly, and Alana, sensing that he wanted to be alone, waited in his front room. Everything felt so strange to him, like it was real and yet not real at the same time. Like dreams and reality blended together, something that never could be true and yet somehow was.
Eventually, he grabbed some new clothes and went back to Alana, who watched him with careful eyes. They stood facing each other for a moment, silent, just taking it in. He was free, he was free, this was real.
"Do you want to go see your dogs?" Alana suggested.
He nodded, and she slipped her hand into his – the gesture surprised him slightly, but everything was surprising today – and led him outside. They locked up the house and climbed back into Alana's car.
The dogs were outside waiting for them, as if they knew that Will was coming back to them somehow. As soon as he climbed out of the car, they ran up to him, Henry in the lead and Winston trotting close behind him. Bonnie and Lucy yapped at him as he bent down to stroke them, and Winston rested his head against Will's leg.
"Hey," he said, grinning, as Zoe and Collin rolled over each other, and Jakey lay down with his head at Will's feet and looked up at him with large, round eyes.
He stroked and tickled each of them in turn, treasuring the way they leant into his hand and the way their eyes told him they'd missed him. Zoe licked his face, Henry put his paw in Will's hand, Lucy rolled into him and lay by his side, refusing to move for a full ten minutes.
After a while, Will stood up and saw Alana watching him again. She'd stayed a short distance away during his reunion with his dogs, but now she walked towards him. "Let's go inside," she offered. "I'll get you a nice cup of coffee, and we can sit down. Relax."
The way she said the last word reminded him that she hadn't done that in a long time.
.
Alana's living room was decorated in reds and greens and golds, and a tall fir tree dominated the room. Will had forgotten what time of year it was – so many things had happened lately – and the sight surprised him.
He followed Alana into the centre of the room, until she turned and looked at him.
"It's Christmas?" he asked.
She nodded. "Look up, Will," she intructed. He did so, and almost laughed. Mistletoe.
Then, he felt her hands cupping his head and his eyes darted back to her face. She was smiling at him, very softly, and her eyes told him she'd been waiting to do this for a very long time.
Holding his head firmly between her hands, Alana pulled her lips closer to his, until he felt them brush softly together.