Games were always fun - especially Monopoly. When Will Graham arrived to the residence of the man he would be babysitting, he figured it would be a decent enough game to play. After all, Hannibal Lecter was autistic, and Jack had informed Will that the game was one of Hannibal's favourites - it always kept him calm.
"HAHA!" Hannibal laughed when Will rolled the die a final time. A ridiculous grin was on his face when the other picked up his piece - a dog - and began moving it forward, thus landing on the 'jail' space of the board. This meant Hannibal didn't have to go to jail! What a lucky game! "You're in jail, Willy. That means-that means you must stay there for one whole time! Okay, it's Mr. Bear's turn, and then it's my turn, because I like letting others take their turns, first, because it's fair."
"It is fair," Will smiled rather uneasily, his blue-grey hues flickering over to the raggedy, old teddy that Hannibal had settled down at the side of the board. It wasn't much of a bear; just one that appeared to be patchworked, and for some reason, it was always settled in the lounge floor, typically in that same space. His brows furrowed at its only button eye, before he quickly turned back to Hannibal. "Are you sure you want Mr. Bear to play? What if he doesn't like the game?"
"No-... No, he likes the game!" Hannibal chirped. "He just doesn't like throwing the dice, because-because it's really violent sometimes, and last time he did it, Jacky had to fix his arm, 'cause it fell right off!" Quickly, he picked up the die, shook it in his hand, muttered, "Here you go, Mr. Bear!" and gave it one quick toss of the wrist. A six, which meant the teddy bear, whose piece was a shoe, would be in prison right next to Will.
Of course, Will knew that the bear playing was just another reason for Hannibal to win the game - psychologically, it was - but he wouldn't dare say anything about it. In fact, he was beginning to take notice of the bear's company, and even commented when Hannibal passed the prison space. "Uh, Hannibal," Will snickered, smiling lightly in a fatherly manner. "I think Mr. Bear is supposed to go directly to jail. What's his crime?"
"I dunno!" Hannibal shrugged his shoulders, then settled the bear's player piece down next to Will. "But-but I guess he's like you, and he got framed, like when you were in jail." He didn't know that what he just said would have been considered rude, and he even seemed to forget that when he began rolling the die for himself.
His piece - a toaster - was ahead, but only because Will allowed him an extra turn when he insisted he deserved one (Hannibal was one for changing the rules, after all). The toaster was now settled on a hotel that he could buy for more property, and he shrugged his shoulders, then looked over to Will. "Should I buy it?"
"Only if you want," The other replied, not wanting to say anything wrong. Will wasn't in any mood to argue today, after all. His head had been aching him, and every now and again, he felt a need to rest, shut his eyes, and seclude himself from the world - even if that meant hiding away from his dogs.
Now the headaches were only worsening with how Hannibal thought out loud about purchasing the property. He pinched the bridge of his nose and lowered his head, as though trying to block the other's words out. Knowing what could be happening, Will struggled to stand, slowly making his way to the nearest wall, because he didn't want to fall over onto the board game.
"Why're you leaving, Willy?" Hannibal asked curiously, nervous that he had said something wrong. He was afraid Will didn't want to deal with him after this. What did he do wrong?
"I just need to..." Will felt himself begin to convulse as a dryness flushed over him. Saliva felt as though it had been drained from his mouth, and even more, as his eyes began feeling wearier and wearier, he realised that his head was beginning to have an airiness to it. He was growing lightheaded, and as much as he wanted to sit down to fight it off, he couldn't.
When tunnel vision began to project, and he felt his eyes beginning to roll back, Will attempted to choke out, the taste of saline linguring in the back of his throat as he faltering voice released a tone of uneasiness: "Hannibal- ... You need to-you need to /go./" Which, that, alone, was hardly audible.
Hannibal Lecter, being autistic with the mindset of a young child, canted his head. One moment, they were playing a game. But the next? Will started acting weird. He was acting like he was sick - like Old Yeller acted, from that movie they watched, but not as mean. His head canted at him as he hesitated to reach a hand out, only for it to be batted away.
"W-Willy?" Hannibal stammered out, eyes wide with fear. "Willy, are-... are you okay? What's wr-wrong?"
Will didn't respond. His mouth felt as though it was wired shut, and he found himself, his back flat against the wall, shaking lightly. With every moment that passed, his trembles grew more and more violent, frightening Hannibal.
Why was Will doing this? Hannibal couldn't help but wonder that. Was he trying to scare him? Or was he sick? Hannibal began growing into a panic, but he attempted to stay calm. Jack had informed him that, if Will happened to begin acting like this, Hannibal needed to stay calm, and try not to disturb him. Seizures were best left alone until they passed, after all.
What was the number Jack wanted him to call, again? Hannibal wasn't sure, but he was already reaching for the phone to call Jack, or at least Bella. One of them could help Will, correct? The phone fell out of his hand when Will grew far too violent in means of shaking, and Hannibal quickly rushed over to him, holding him up to keep him from falling to the ground.
"W-Willy!" Hannibal cried, eyes beginning to well up with tears as he supported his friend upright. "W-Willy, stop! You're frightening me, W-Willy!" What was happening? Why was this happening? Why was Will scaring him like this? Did he think it was funny?
The very thought of losing Will and being helpless to it made a shiver rush down Hannibal's spine. Will was going to die, wasn't he? He was shaking so much, that Hannibal thought he just might explode!
As though contagious, Hannibal began trembling, but not for the same reason. Rather, Hannibal was shaking in means of fear. He didn't want to lose Will! Will was going to be his best friend forever, and he couldn't just lose him!
Awkward in his tasks, Hannibal managed to scoop William up, bridal style, and carry him towards the sofa, gently easing him down onto it. He held him down, as though forcing him not to move, but it wasn't working. Will just wouldn't hold still! So, Hannibal did what came naturally.
He jerked Will up by his shoulders and began shaking him, rather violently, as though attempting to knock him out of it - as though an attempt to snap him back into what was reality. "WAKE UP!" Hannibal shouted, sounding highly angered. "WAKE UP, NOW, WILLY! STOP-... STOP PLAYING GAMES! YOU'RE BEING BAD! Now, I don't wish to-to hurt you, but you're-you're doing a bad thing! You're-you're doing a really bad thing!"
Of course, Will didn't mean to do what he was doing. The only thing that alarmed Hannibal was when Will's head had gone into overdrive, due to extra stress being added to it. This caused Will to fall limp, and Hannibal rested him on the ground, now, slowly and gently. Why wasn't Will moving? Why did his eyes shut? Maybe, he stopped, and he was just sleeping. But... Why wasn't he breathing?
"W-Willy?" Hannibal rasped out, kneeling down to Will's side as he cupped his face lightly. "Are you sleeping? I think it's good if you are, because-because you need to rest. You did a bad thing, Willy. You-You scared me!"
Will didn't respond. In fact, he fell unresponsive. What was Hannibal to do, now? Should he call Jack and tell him Will fell asleep? Or should he run away? Hannibal froze up at the second option. He didn't want Jack to yell at him, so he thought that, maybe, just maybe... That was the best option. He hurt Will, and now he had to hide. After all, he could have sworn he heard Jack's car pulling into the drive.