"Will."
Will opens his eyes when he hears his name. He looks ahead and sees Dr. Alana Bloom standing before him. Her hair is braided and stuck with hair pins and her lips are a matte red, matching her pant suit.
"Why, Alana," Will says, putting on a smug and mocking facade. "Or should I say, Dr. Bloom? I'm not sure know what I should address you as."
"You might as well call me a fool, because that's how you've always played me," Alana replies, crossing her arms over her chest and pursing her lips.
"Oh, please, Alana," Will retorts, rolling his eyes and rising from his stiff cot. "There isn't a need to be so dramatic."
"No?" Alana questions. "I guess staging an elaborate escape with your, what did Freddie call you, two, oh, yes, your 'Murder Husband' and then proceeding to kill the Tooth Fairy with said Murder Husband, wasn't dramatic? Oh, but that's not all, was it? You, two then escape and live together in seclusion before being caught by Jack Crawford and having two of the most publicized cases in history. You knocked O.J. out of that spot, by the way; you should be proud."
"I am," Will nods, not missing a beat. "You should let Hannibal know."
"I let him know," Alana feigns a smile, though smiling is the last thing she feels like doing at the moment.
When Alana Bloom had heard that Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter had finally been caught, she had let go of the longest breath she had ever held.
When Hannibal had told her that when she had fired her gun at him in his kitchen (and empty gun, at that), every moment since would be borrowed, she believed him. When he had said that her wife, her son belonged to him, she knew that that was true. And when the two escapees were finally caught, Alana knew that she finally had her life back. With Hannibal back behind bars, her family and she were safe.
They were free.
When Alana had heard that Hannibal Lecter was free, she had flown her family to a small cottage in Illinois that her family had owned when she was a girl and they had lived in seclusion there until Alana received word from Jack that Hannibal Lecter had been caught. She flew her family back to Baltimore when she was absolutely certain that Hannibal was 100% behind bars and locked away. She wouldn't risk losing her family until she had absolute confirmation that Hannibal was detained.
And now that she was certain of that, she was back. With Frederick Chilton, uh, indisposed, Alana resumed her position as Hospital Administrator at the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane and here she was.
Talking to convicted murderer and former friend Will Graham.
"Well, I bet he was happy to hear we beat O.J.," Will says. He changes the subject. "Why have you come, Alana? I'm going to call you that."
"To try and sense why this happened. What happened to you," Alana explains.
"Oh, so we're going to do this?" Will says, cocking an eyebrow. "You're the caring psychiatrist and I'm the regular ol' patient?"
"Something like that," Alana narrows her eyes. "There's nothing for you to lose by telling me about what happened. You're already locked up and no one's letting you out. You might as well spill." She pulls out the chair set before Will's cell and sits. She pulls out a pad of paper and pen from her bag, flipping several pages until she finds a fresh one. She looks up at Will. "So."
"So."
"When did you realize that you were in love with Hannibal Lecter?"
"When?" Will questions, honestly thinking about it. He might as well play along; if he doesn't, Alana could leave and he'd be alone. He hated being alone, for once in his life. "Well, I suppose it was after we murdered Francis Dolarhyde. I finally saw him, actually saw him, and I just knew. I loved him."
"What do you mean by that?" Alana asks. "That you finally saw him?"
"I finally saw who he was and who I was," Will explains. "He showed me what I truly am and everything that I'm capable of. He's everything that I ever wanted, and him standing there before me, bloody and beaten, I knew; he's my soulmate. It sounds cheesy, but he completes me. He makes me the best version of myself that I can be. He makes me feel incredible in every single way, in a way that no other person ever has.
"And also, you've seen him: he's gorgeous. And great in bed; another thing you already know."
Alana laughs. "He's really rubbing off on you. You weren't always this witty."
"What can I say?" Will shrugs. "We were always more similar than anyone thought."
"You've fooled us all, Will Graham," Alana nods. "So, when did you realize what you were? When you killed Dolarhyde?"
"Yes," Will says. "I realized that this is what I am."
"Why wasn't it after killing Garrett Jacob Hobbs that you realized it, do you think?"
Will thinks about it. "I suppose it was because I killed Hobbs in self-defense."
"Weren't you killing Dolarhyde in self-defense?" Alana questions.
"Yes and no," Will shrugs. "Yes, he would've killed Hannibal and I if we hadn't killed him, but it also gave me intense pleasure in doing it. And we didn't need to kill him in the way that we did; we could've just quickly put him out of his misery, but we didn't."
"So, what is it about killing that you enjoy?" Alana asks, writing more notes down on her pad of paper.
"Having power over the people that I'm killing," Will admits. "I've never had much control over my life, but with my victims? I have complete control over their lives."
Alana writes down more scribbles on her pad.
"What are you writing down?" Will asks, squinting to read her scribbles through the thick glass surrounding him.
Alana looks up and smiles at Will. "Just my observations."
"Those being what, exactly?"
"That you're not a psychopath," Alana replies.
Will furrows his brow and cocks his head. "How's that?"
"The answer you gave was the exact one that Hannibal gave. I mean, his had a lot more metaphors and pretentious bullshit, but it's essentially the same. Hannibal is a psychopath, yes, but you? You're just in love with one."
"What are you saying?" Will demands, his blood boiling. "That I only killed those people because Hannibal told me to? No. I picked to kill our neighbor because he was rude."
Alana looks straight at Will. "What neighbor?"
Will's heart stops; they hadn't found out about Ahmed. He thinks for a quick second, and it's fast enough for Alana to not notice his hesitation. "Dolarhyde. I just meant 'neighbor' as in, he is similar to us. You know what Jesus said; 'treat your neighbor as yourself'. I didn't follow that little suggestion, though; I killed my neighbor."
Alana relaxes, as does Will. "I see. So you're pretentious, too?"
"Correct, Doctor," Will smirks. "So, I'm not a psychopath?"
"No," Alana shakes her head. "I don't believe that you are. You are definitely a killer, that's obvious."
"How did you know?" Will mocks. "Oh, wait. Was it because I killed people?"
"You know what I mean," Alana rolls her eyes. "Deep down in your soul, you are truly a killer; that, as I said, is obvious. But why you are one is beyond me."
"It's just who I am," Will shrugs.
"But you aren't always one," Alana observes. "It wasn't until after you met Hannibal that you discovered it."
"If you're saying that he made me into a killer, that's not it," Will protests.
"Well, what did happen? What changed?"
"He... showed me what I am and what I'm capable of," Will explains. "Simple as that."
"There is nothing simple about the two of you, Will," Alana says, her demeanor changing. She looks almost... sad.
The two had been close friends for years before everything that had happened. It actually pains her to see him this broken. He looks so broken; dark bags underline his usually bright blue eyes which have turned to a more grayish color, his facial hair is wild and unkempt as is his hair, and he is extremely pale, deathly pale, even. He looks terrible and she knows exactly why.
Losing Hannibal had definitely taken its toll on Will. She felt for him; she knew how hard it was for her personally to lose Hannibal and she can't possibly imagine how hard it is for him.
"We were friends once," Alana announces.
Will cocks his head at her and then grins. "What? We're not anymore because I killed some people? I wouldn't be too quick to judge, Alana; Hannibal told me about what Margot and you did to her brother dearest."
"Well, Hannibal has no proof of anything, he told you his guess as to what happened to Mason Verger," Alana corrects.
Yes, it was true that she had helped her wife kill Mason, Alana believed whole-heartedly that something terrible would've happened to Margot if she had not intervened. Alana considered it an act of self-defense and that the world was better off without him.
"Only you know the truth as to what really happened, Alana," Will says. "And you'll have to live with that for the rest of your life."
"As will you for your crimes, Will," Alana retorts. She sighs. "Well, I think I have all I need," Alana says, closing her notepad and rising from the chair.
"Are you sure?"
It's Alana's time to smirk, now. "Is Will 'I-Hate-Everyone-But-Dogs' Graham lonely?"
Will rolls his eyes and feigns a sense of detachedness. "No. And I don't hate everyone but dogs."
Alana raises an eyebrow. "Oh, no? Who do you actually like?"
"Hannibal."
Alana laughs. "Oh, really?" Alana replies sarcastically. "That is news to me."
Will grins. "I know. This is brand new information, isn't it?"
The two stand there, looking at each other and remembering the friendship they had shared. It seemed like a it was in a different lifetime that this was the case, but the two both feel rather nostalgic. They had been close before everything that had happened.
That's why it pains Alana to see Will like this, broken and alone.
"I'll come back tomorrow, if you want," Alana says.
"You will?" Will asks, eyes slightly brightening.
"Yes," Alana nods and gives Will a small smile. "See you tomorrow, Will."
"You, too," Will nods. Alana turns to leave, but Will calls out, "Oh, Alana?"
"Yes?" She turns back to face him.
"I know you don't owe me anything, but, the next time you see Hannibal, can you tell him...
"Tell him what?"
"That I love him."
Alana exhales and nods her head. "I can do that."
"Thank-you. Thank-you so much."
"You're welcome. And Will?"
"Yes?"
"He loves you, too."
"Why, hello, Alana."
Hannibal rises from the chair he's sitting in and approaches the glass that separates him from the psychiatrist.
"Hannibal," Alana nods. "How are today?"
"Oh, I'm peachy. I mean, I still am not used to this God-awful jumpsuit, but I doubt that will ever happen," Hannibal retorts. "What have you come for, Alana?"
Every time he says her name, a shiver runs up her spine. "What do you think?"
"Our weekly interview?" Hannibal asks. "Neither of us ever get anything out of it."
"That doesn't mean I'm going to give up trying," Alana informs him, pulls out the chair set before his cell, and retrieves her notepad from her bag. "I'm not going to let you win."
"We both know I've already lost," Hannibal says, dropping his witty behavior. "I'm here, Will is..."
"Let's talk about him," Alana says, "Will."
"What about Will?" He'll play ball.
"Why do you think you two... clicked so well?" Alana asks, clicking her own pen, ready to write.
"We are very similar," Hannibal admits. "I saw what was inside of Will and knew that I could assist him in his becoming."
"What made you fall in love with Will?"
"Everything single thing about him." A knife of sadness strikes through his heart at the thought of his dear Will and all of the amazing qualities he possesses. "Every quality, good and bad, that he has makes him irresistible to me." Hannibal looks down at the floor, a look of sadness plastered on his face. "I miss him so much."
Alana looks at him and feels a stab of pity for the man. This man who had screwed her over more time than she could count and had done unspeakably awful things. She feels pity for him and she knows why; she knows how it feels to lose someone you love and that person happens to be Hannibal himself.
"You really love him, don't you, Hannibal?" Alana questions, dropping the psychiatrist routine.
Hannibal looks up at Alana, tears in his eyes. "Y-Yes, I do. And I didn't even know I was capable of l-loving someone until I met Will."
"He loves you, too," Alana says, delivering Will's message. " He won't ever stop."
"I won't stop, either," Hannibal replies.
Alana clears her throat and looks back down at notebook. "Why do you think that is?"
"No."
Alana cocks an eyebrow. "No? No to what?"
"This. I'm done talking now," Hannibal announces. He returns to his desk. "You may go."
"Just like that?" Alana asks.
"Just like that."
Alana smirks. "So what? You will only talk to me if it's about Will?"
"Something like that," Hannibal shrugs and turns back to what he had been doing previous to Alana'a interruption: sketching Will.
"Well, then if you want me to leave, I will; I'm not going to waste my time." Alana rises and turns to leave, but not before saying, "Oh, there's an FBI agent here who wants to talk to you. Agent Sterling or something? I don't remember her name exactly. I want you to talk to her. Well, she says she's not leaving until she talks to you, so that's why I want you to talk to her."
"Why does she wish to speak with me?"
"Something about a serial killer? She wants information about him and she thinks your area of expertise would help."
"No."
"Why not? You talk to almost everyone who visits you."
"Let me rephrase; I will talk to her but...I have a condition."
Alana narrows her eyes. "What do you want? More books? Better food? I personally can't do anything about that-"
"I want to see Will."
Alana stares at Hannibal. "You're joking."
"I wouldn't joke about something so serious as this," Hannibal says.
"How am I supposed to arrange this?!" Alana exclaims.
"You're the administrator," Hannibal replies. "You can make it happen if you try."
Alana huffs in exaggeration. She thinks about it for a bit. She sighs. "Fine. I'll... I'll see what I can do."
Hannibal's eyes light up at this. "Thank-you, Alana. I appreciate it."
Alana waves a hand dismissively at him. "Yeah, yeah. I just hope you actually can give some insight into this new serial killer."
"Well, as everyone says, I am different than most serial killers; who knows if I can?" Hannibal smirks.
"You better help that agent. I swear to God, if you are messing with me just to see Will-"
"What?" Hannibal interrupts. "You'll do what? Lock me away? Oh, wait."
"You jackass."
"Nice speaking with you, Alana. As always."