Notes: This is the ending. There is an epilogue to follow, which I will post right after this, so you can read through it all.

I hesitated before posting this- the ending has been written since Monday. I originally wrote this one, then an alternative one, but then returned to this one upon rereading them this evening.

It was almost over.

Will tried to focus as they sat in Hannibal's car outside Alana's house, but he couldn't stop thinking about what came after this. Things could finally go back to normal- or as normal as they had ever been. Will had crossed a line when he killed Freddie, and he was about to cross another line when they killed Bedelia, and he knew Hannibal would expect him to keep killing.

There was no fear or dread about that. Will remembered before this mess had started, when Hannibal had shown signs of developing a conscience, of killing people who deserved it. Will could live with that.

He looked at Hannibal's shadowy profile.

"I love you," Will said.

Hannibal smiled at him. They were both wearing the protective suits, both armed with guns and knives. It was dark now; they had been waiting a long time for Bedelia to show up but so far she hadn't. Alana still wasn't home. Will had tried calling her but her phone was switched off.

"It is nice to have a partner in the darkness," Hannibal said.

Will shifted. He was restless. "What will we do after this?"

"We will go home. We will go to bed, and stay there for at least a day. Perhaps two." Hannibal's eyes flashed at him, seductive, wicked.

Will swallowed.

His phone started to ring, and he mentally cursed it. When he saw Abigail's name on the ID, he frowned and answered it.

"Abigail?"

"She's here." Abigail was breathing heavily, whispering the words.

"What? Abigail, stay hidden. We're on our way." Will looked at Hannibal with wide eyes.

Hannibal started the car and swerved out into the road erratically. He sped towards the end of Alan'a street.

"I'm going to kill her," Abigail whispered.

"Abigail- no!"

There were bright lights as Hannibal almost collided with another car. The phone went flying as he veered out of the way. A horn blared and Will felt his heart rise into his mouth as he met the eyes of Alana Bloom and Jack Crawford in the other car.

Jack had slammed on the breaks and Hannibal sped away from them, but Will couldn't forget the wide-eyed horror he had seen on Alana's face.

"The phone," he said, scrabbling around for it. He retrieved it from the floor but Abigail had hung up. "We have to stop her."

"I know." Hannibal was concentrating on the road.

"That was Jack and Alana."

"I know."

"Why are they together?"

"You need to focus, Will."

Will called Abigail back, but there was no answer. He was terrified, too hot and clammy beneath the plastic layer.

"Why did she go to our home? You believed she would approach Alana."

Will frowned. It didn't make sense, it didn't fit what he had figured out, and for a moment he was blank, without an answer.

"It's me," Will said finally, realisation blooming. "She knows what I do. She's outsmarted us."

There was a strange car outside their house. Hannibal stoped the car jerkily. They ran from the car up to the front door. Hannibal reached for his keys but Will shot the lock, kicking the door in, aware that he had just alerted the neighbours that something was going on.

He would just have to hope they got lucky. After all, he had killed two people here and none of the neighbours had noticed.

Nothing was more important than Abigail.

He was shouting her name as he ran in; Hannibal was shouting it too. Will was burning up, filled with anger, ready to kill Bedelia.

Abigail was in the kitchen. There was blood everywhere, a sickeningly familiar sight, scarlet on the cool white tiles. The knife was still sticking from her stomach. It must be almost exactly in the scar Greg Walker had left on her.

She had dragged herself into a sitting position, propped up against the counter.

She wasn't moving.

Hannibal let out an animalistic growl as he fell to his knees beside her, as Will did the same. Hannibal groped her throat for a pulse and they were both surprised when she opened her eyes.

"Will," she said, and there was blood on her lips. "Hannibal."

"Stay with her," Hannibal said. He kissed her cheek. "Don't try to speak, Abigail."

Will stared at him. Was Abigail dying? He wanted to kill Bedelia himself, wanted to tear her limb from limb for this mess she had created. He could see the same hatred, the same murderous darkness, reflected in Hannibal's eyes.

Will was reminded of the dream in which he had killed Hannibal, who had then turned into Will.

It was happening.

"Stay with her," Hannibal repeated.

Will nodded.

Hannibal left, and Will looked at Abigail. His friend. His daughter. His family. His eyes were suddenly wet with tears, and took a ragged breath as Abigail looked at him.

"Tried," she said. "Tried to... kill her."

"She stabbed you in self-defense."

"Yes."

A tear escaped and rolled down Will's face. There was so much blood. Abigail had decided to kill Bedelia because their family was threatened. She had accepted Hannibal. In fact, she had done more than accept him- she had been prepared to become like him to protect him.

There was a big feeling swelling up inside of Will, and he wondered if it was pride.

"Will Graham," said a familiar voice in the doorway.

He reached for his gun, but froze when he saw the small gun nestled in Bedelia's long fingers. She was pointing it at him.

Will's thought in that moment was that he didn't want Abigail to watch him die, and he glanced down at her, feeling a perverse sense of relief when he saw that her eyes were closed.

The bullet hit him in the shoulder, and the white hot pain took him to the floor.

She wasn't a good shot. She seemed to realise that she hadn't dealt him a fatal wound, and he heard her footsteps as she approached him.

"Where is Hannibal?" she asked, looking down at him.

Will tried to choke out an answer. The pain was almost blinding.

He looked over at Abigail, and was surprised that her eyes were open again. With great effort, she raised her hand and grasped the knife in her stomach.

Will realised what she was going to do and his eyes widened. He shouted out, and Bedelia jerked, looking around to see what had distracted him.

Abigail ripped the knife from her stomach, realising a powerful spurt of precious blood. She swung out and caught Bedelia in the ankle; not a deep wound, but enough to make her stumble and drop the gun.

Will caught her other ankle and pulled her down to him, sitting up as he did, so that she ended up in a bizarre embrace on his lap. He wrapped his hand around her throat.

The fear in her eyes was vindicating.

"I wanted to help her," she gasped.

Will's hand found the knife, and he plunged it into her chest, twisting it and driving it deep. She died almost instantly. Will watched the light go out in her eyes with the most painful satisfaction he had ever known.

Hannibal was in the doorway. He was breathing heavily, staring at Will. He looked proud.

Will pushed Bedelia away from him, and looked over at Abigail.

"She's gone," Hannibal said, and his voice was broken. He crossed the room to them, sitting down beside them. "Removing the knife from the wound quickened blood loss."

She had done it to save Will. He sobbed, smoothing her hair and cradling her.

When he looked at Hannibal, he saw that there were tears rolling down his face.

They looked at each other for a long time, neither speaking. There was nothing to say. They had been Abigail's fathers. There was an empty place in Will's chest. He kissed her forehead, very aware that she was gone. She was cold. Will had saved her from near-death twice now. He had not been able to do it a third time.

"I'm proud of you," he murmured into her hair. "I love you."

Hannibal took Abigail from him gently and then pulled him close. Will rested his face against Hannibal's chest.

There was no after this. The future he had imagined was gone.

He clung to Hannibal, terrified of letting go, terrified of what was going to happen.

Will was losing blood. His shoulder throbbed. He was growing weak.

They heard Jack shout Hannibal's name before they heard him enter the house. Hannibal stood up, pulling Will up behind him, and pointed his gun at the doorway.

Will looked at Hannibal. There was blood all over him. His eyes were burning.

This was the man he loved. The man he had allowed himself to love, despite knowing the horrible truth about him.

He had allowed himself to be pulled into the darkness with him.

He was standing beside Hannibal when Jack and Alana came in.

Jack was holding his gun. Alana was unarmed. Hannibal shot Jack without hesitation, a shot to the stomach which sent him sprawling to the floor.

"Hannibal," Alana said, as he turned the gun to her. She was pale, her eyes wide and unbelieving.

She looked at Hannibal and Will, then at Bedelia, and finally at Abigail. She covered her mouth with her hand, making a choked sound.

"Hannibal, you..."

There were blue and red lights outside. Hannibal's finger curled around the trigger, and Will might have been able to let him go through with it, might have agreed to try to fight their way to freedom with Hannibal, if Alana hadn't looked at him.

Her eyes were bright with fear and confusion. She trusted Will. Even now, she was appealing to him.

Will hated himself.

He covered Hannibal's hand with his own and gently pushed the gun down. "It's over," he said. "It's over."

Hannibal looked down at him, and Will didn't see the disappointment he expected to see in his expression. He saw acceptance.

"Dear Will," Hannibal said quietly. He reached out and brushed Will's cheek as he had done countless times before this. "Remarkable Will."

Will was crying. He had forgotten Alana was still watching them. He had forgotten everything except the overwhelming knowledge that this might be the last time he ever had a moment like this with Hannibal Lecter.

Everything had gone so wrong.

"I love you," Will said, as police officers stormed into the house.

Hannibal's lips met his, a burning, fierce kiss that tasted of blood and tears.

Will was pulled away from Hannibal, his hands cuffed. He did not resist; nor did Hannibal, who allowed himself to be restrained by two officers.

Will couldn't look. He didn't want to watch the man he loved lose his freedom. He stared at Abigail instead as Hannibal was taken away.