Chapter One: A Sudden Nothing

Delaware

August 2018

Water rushed up his nose and into his mouth and lungs. The pair of arms that had enveloped him during the fall were pulled away. He was alone, sinking swiftly. His heart strained to pump his chilling blood. The world was roaring and red, then quiet and black.

The last thing Will knew was death.

His life did not flash before his eyes. He did not think of his father, Mississippi, the FBI, Molly, or Hannibal. He did not have time to regret. Death was a sudden nothing.

"Will."

The voice was low, distant.

"Will."

A faint recognition. It tugged on him through the darkness.

"Open your eyes."

He knew only one thing: it was not Hannibal's voice.

Opening his eyes was strenuous. Light appeared between the lids and sent a searing pain throughout his body. He let out a raspy groan.

"You're alright. Keep going."

Breathing deep, he opened his eyes wider. The room seemed flooded with light. A small blurry figure sat to his left. He blinked, coating his eyes with tears. The room dimmed and came into focus.

He recognized the woman next to him. He searched for her name in his bleary memory.

"...Chiyoh?"

She nodded. "Good. Do you know where you are?"

He glanced around, trying to ignore the throbbing behind his eyes. Large windows, white walls. Clean lines. A large basil plant in the corner.

"Hannibal's house. By the ocean."

It was only then that he remembered the water, the nothing. The fall and the killing.

"I'm...I'm alive."

Chiyoh shifted in her seat. "You're missing a few parts."

Will looked down to a chest covered in bandages and an IV inserted into his right arm. He tried to raise his right hand to his face. Pain radiated from his shoulder down the entirety of his arm.

"Use your left hand."

He touched his left fingertips to a bandage across his right cheek. Something felt strange.

"You lost a few molars. You will probably have some numbness there for the rest of your life. And a large scar, of course."

"What's in the IV?"

"Morphine and antibiotics."

"I need more morphine."

"I want you to see him first."

Will's heart suddenly felt like it was in vice. It occurred to him that Hannibal might have died during the plummet. Worse, he might have lived. "How is Hannibal?"

"The bullet took some of his small intestine and he is in pain. But he didn't lose as much blood as you."

Will thought about their blood in the moonlight.

"We both must have needed transfusions."

"He could donate to you. He had been saving his blood here for emergencies."

A long time ago Hannibal had asked about his blood type. He thought it was a routine medical question and thought nothing of it. A positive. Good. Suddenly Will felt very tired. "Of course. Hannibal, always a step ahead."

Chiyoh stood and began removing the tape from Will's arm. He turned his head away. He was sick of seeing needles.

He felt a tug, then a peculiar sense of relief.

"Try standing. Go slowly."

His legs were cumbersome. The joints refused to cooperate and each bone seemed to weigh a hundred pounds. Chiyoh stood over him, her eyes cutting as she watched. As his feet grazed the floor, he felt an acute lightness.

He felt weak in front of her and it embarrassed him.

"He's around the corner."

Chiyoh accompanied him to the next room, taking careful steps behind him. Whether she was there to catch him or scrutinize him, he couldn't tell.

Hannibal was lying supine in bed, naked torso baring bandages above his pelvis. An IV dripped into his body. His chest showed the smooth, easy rhythm of sleep.

Fury ran through Will's veins. I killed you. I killed you and you saved my life. How are you doing this to me? Why won't this end?

He kept his eyes on Hannibal's face. He had never seen Hannibal be anything less than hypervigilant. It was disquieting to see him defenseless. "Did you operate on him?"

"Yes. When he was a young man I played nurse to his surgeon; he practiced on the pheasants and foxes. I did the best I could. His small intestine is shorter now."

They stood in silence for a while.

"You could kill him."

He turned to look at Chiyoh, who continued to stare at the bed. She cleared her throat and spoke again, her words deliberate. "Increasing the morphine, cutting his throat. Whatever you choose."

"You're his family. After all of this, you're not going to protect him?"

She still refused to meet eyes with Will. "He told me this is what he wanted. If he didn't die with you, he wanted you to decide. He was very clear." She began walking away.

"Whatever you do, do not tell me until after it's done." She closed the door behind her.

Will sat on Hannibal's bed. Hannibal was in the depths of an opioid sleep. It would be easy to give him too much, to watch his chest rise less and less often, until it did so no more.

It would be easy to return home and announce that he had murdered the Dragon and Dr. Lecter. He would be a hero. He could feel Molly's warm body next to him already, hear Walter playing video games down the hall. He could live the rest of his life being a husband and father, knowing that Hannibal was gone, truly gone, and he would no longer dominate his life.

But Hannibal would always be in his head. There was a viciousness inside of him that Hannibal had unlocked. Through deceit and agony and scarring, he had seen another morality. A world in which society's rules were overlooked, and individual survival was paramount. He had mutilated bodies and tasted human flesh. He had made a plan to kill someone and gone through with it. He was now a murderer.

Molly had married a Will Graham that had not existed for several years. Walter already knew that. Children were so perceptive. He would be raised by a man with many secrets and the ever present albatross of Hannibal Lecter around his neck. Will's father also had an albatross. The ghost of his deceased wife never let him be, and he drank from dawn to dusk to forget that. His father was locked in his head. So was Will.

It's beautiful.

Hannibal began making the small movements of lighter sleep, stirring and muttering. He started to grind his teeth. It was curious to see this almost supernatural man with such a habit.

If Will was going to give him a merciful death, it had to be done soon.