Summary: I want you to know exactly where I am, where you can always find me.
Warnings: Major Character Death, surprisingly not Hannibal's fault.
Mentions Cannibalism; honestly it surprises me a little that this fandom warns for that considering the show but then I suppose it would be Rude otherwise.
Will remembered what Hannibal had said before Jack took him away, the last thing he had said to Will, not that Hannibal had meant it to be the last but Will knew, Will knew he'd never see Hannibal again.
It had been some surprise when he'd gone to the doctor for headaches that didn't go away, headaches that made him not want to move because it made the pain worse. The doctor, with the notes in his file about Encephalitis, had insisted on many tests, on MRI's and X-Rays.
He had a tumor in his brain, inoperable because of its size, hidden by the Encephelitis and allowed to grow while that had been treated. Jack and Alana tried to insist he take treatment, his desease too close to comfort for Jack.
But Will couldn't, couldn't bring himself to poison his body, his meat if he was truthful, for all that Hannibal would never taste him.
There were moments when he wondered why he'd chosen not to do it before he remembered, his memory was failing as the tumor grew and Will knew it was only a matter of time before he forgot how to breath.
There was a choice to make, things to take care of, a coffin to buy, a plot to chose, the house in Wolf Trap to sell, finding homes for is dogs.
And Will sent a final message to Hannibal after he bought his gravesite, the words he'd recieved as Hannibal surrendered, Will knew that Hannibal wouldn't miss the chance to say goodbye.
There was silence all around, there was no preacher, no religous leader only friends and colleges standing around a grave side as the coffin was slowly lowered within.
Eventually the people dispersed, leaving the site behind and from beyond them a man stood, walking over as the last person left.
Alone in the cemetary, the man knelt down at the unfilled grave and stared down at the closed casket.
What was there to say? What was there to do? The coffin did not hold Will, yes it held his body, his flesh and bones, but not what had made Will himself, made Will so interesting.
The man stood and pulled from his pocket a crumpled note, sent as a fan letter, it had been passed on, seemingly harmless, a single sentence and an address, he wondered if the address had been checked before he recieved the letter or if they had even noticed it beneath the fancy loops and lines.
But no one had heard the words he spoke to Will, oh they had known he said something but it had been quiet enough, his face turned away enough that only Will had known what he said, and he knew that Will had never told anyone.
'I want you to know exacatly where I am, where you can always find me.' Will had wrote, the writing disguised by fancy calligraphy that no one would suspect of Will.
The first time he'd read it he hadn't understood the message that it held, nor the second. It hadn't been until Alana had come in with red eyes and an air of sorrow that he had begun to suspect the message that was his letter.
He'd not asked after Will during his incarceration and no information was volunteered by Jack or Alana, but Chilton liked to taunt him, he'd taunted him for the last time with Will's death and he had suddenly understood the words in the letter he now always carried, understood the address disguised beneath it.
Chilton had been his third victim as he'd made his escape, the first two being an orderly and a security guard.
And then he'd come here, making it in time to see Will lowered away, he wondered if his escape had made the news yet as he looked at the words he had said to Will, they had been a soft goodbye then, an offering, a hand that he would have held out to Will for the rest of his life, and now, now Will had turned it into a hard farewell, a perminate one.
He let the letter flutter down to rest on the coffin within the grave.
"Goodbye, Will." Hannibal spoke softly before turning away from the grave.
A dog barked ahead of him and then fell into step beside him, he looked down at the dog and he wondered at it.
"Very well, Winston, come along." Hannibal said, reaching out to the dog.
Winston sniffed his hand and then followed as Hannibal left the cemetary, he wondered briefly if he'd ever return, but as he paused at his stolen car, paused to turn back and watch as men began to fill in the grave he'd just left. He knew, he knew he'd be back, back to visit Will in his lonely grave.
He wondered then, if, when he returned, Jack would be there waiting for him.
Hannibal smirked then, best take care of Jack then before he left, it wouldn't do for them to catch him so easily, perhaps a visit to Margot and Alana would be in order as well, and most definatly Freddie Lounds.
"I know where to find you, Will." Hannibal whispered to the steering wheel, "I'll come see you, I promise you."
A/N: Yay, my first Hannibal fic, I hope it was okay.