Chapter Three: Last Supper
The late afternoon sun filtered through the blinds and cast thin shifting shadows on the wall.
The sheets smelled of Hannibal, salty and herbal. Will tried to ignore it, but the scent was potent. Every now and then he thought of getting up.
The door creaked open. Chiyoh stepped in, holding a glass of water and a shot of whiskey. "I thought you could use these."
"Yes, desperately. Thank you."
Chiyoh handed them to him. He took the shot first, then followed it with a large drink of water. The whiskey hit his stomach with a satisfying burn.
She was watching. Her eyes were black pools with no beginning or end. They gave Will chills.
"I know about you and Hannibal."
Will sighed. "There's nothing to talk about, if that's what you're here for."
"You need to decide if you're going to stay or go."
"You really love him, don't you?"
"His family took me in when I was very young. They gave me all they had. Now Hannibal and I are the only ones left."
"Where is he?"
"In the kitchen. You should join him and eat."
Will used the wall to support himself. Chiyoh, unblinking, watched him reach the end of the hallway.
Hannibal sat at the petite dining room table. "Dinner is served. I did not have much here, just rice and sausage."
"Pork sausage?"
Hannibal smirked. "I enjoy pork from time to time, if you can believe it."
Will made himself a plate and sat across from Hannibal. "Where is the body?"
"Chiyoh rolled it into the ocean. Will you return home?"
Will took a bite. The warm food hit his empty stomach and sent a surge of comfort throughout his body.
"No."
The word surprised him. He didn't remember saying it.
Hannibal stopped eating. "So you will join me, then?"
"I don't think I have a choice."
Will glanced down at an empty plate. He didn't remember taking his last bite.
"I have heard that before. You have always had a choice, Will. You didn't have to return to me for therapy or find me in Florence. You didn't have to join the Dragon case. You chose to. You wanted to see what would happen, then let your guilt convince you of helplessness."
Each word Hannibal spoke landed like a fresh ember on Will's skin.
Choice...return...wanted...guilt.
"Molly and Walter are better off without me."
Hannibal nodded. "Better off believing you died a heroic death."
Will looked at Hannibal. "So what do we do next?"
"I have a few ideas in mind. South America would be safest, I think, and will be lovely in the upcoming months."
Will stood up and took his plate to the sink. "Where's the whiskey?"
Hannibal pointed to a cabinet by the fridge. Will opened it and saw a bottle of Sazerac. It looked like bliss.
Holding the neck tighter than he had held anything in his life, Will left Hannibal alone at the table.