AN: Thank you for the reviews. I hope you enjoy this chapter.
Will lay in the hospital bed, the IV in his hand. The doctors were trying to get him to eat but so far had had little success. If they pulled open his mouth and tilted his head back, they could get him to drink some water but he would not chew or swallow his food.
Will was vaguely aware of the movement around him. When Jack came, he didn't say anything or turn his head to the agent but he did slightly flinch away from his hand. However, that was only the first time. The second time Jack lay a comforting hand on his shoulder Will didn't move away. He was getting better though it was only Hannibal he truly felt comfortable around.
The first day Abigail came she'd brought his glasses with her. Pushing them up his nose, she said, "There, now you look more like yourself."
He'd wanted to respond, wanted to talk to her, but Will was to afraid. It was safe, locked up here in his mind. This blackness was easier than facing the world.
The kills he had made in the forest and the ones that he had imagined in his head blurred together to create one giant bloody image. He didn't mind it. Will was no longer afraid of these dreams and thoughts. He'd come to terms with them but the idea of facing the world, of acting normal now was to much for him to handle.
Hannibal would hate him. He was sure of it. Despite Jim's words, about Hannibal being a monster, Will didn't believe it. It just seemed to impossible. Will knew that Hannibal would despise him along with Abigail as well. Will couldn't disappoint Abigail.
So Will stayed, day after day, locked away in fantasies, away from the world. He could tell when people spoke around him but he never could make out what they said. Only one day did he nearly get pulled out of the dark.
Hannibal, as he had done for quite some time, sat next Will, never moving unless absolutely necessary. Abigail wasn't with him to day. Why, Will didn't know. He just knew that she did leave them plenty of time alone.
With only himself and Hannibal there, Will then heard the footsteps that entered the room. Without warning Hannibal was on his feet. At first Will, didn't know who Hannibal was talking to until the man moved in front of his vision. It was Moriarty.
"You really think you can come here and expect to leave it alive?" growled out Hannibal as he walked up to Moriarty.
"Oh, I know I'll walk out of here alive," replied Jim with a smirk. "You can't afford to kill me here, no matter how tempting it may be. Besides, I brought flowers."
Hannibal snatched the bouquet away from Jim's hand and dumped them in the trash.
"Well that was rude."
"What do you want Moriarty? Why come here again? You've already done your damage."
Moriarty looked up at Hannibal and grinned. "Damage? That was the most fun I've ever had! Believe me, he'll eventually come back to you. Try some of your cooking on him though I'm sure you've cooked for him before."
Then Moriarty leaned in close to Will and said, "I saw that despite nearly being starved you still wouldn't eat human flesh. How would you feel if I told you that you've already tried it?"
Will moved, flinching away from Moriarty, his muscles stiff as he tried to pull even farther away, mentally and physically. However, it was like Moriarty was a magnet and he was slowly pulling Will out. He didn't want to leave the safety of his mind though.
Before he could really worry though, Hannibal had grabbed Moriarty by the arm and had forcibly pulled him away. Hannibal kept his hands tightly knotted in Jim's suit.
"Oo, that must be a bit uncomfortable for you," Moriarty said with a grin. "Your leg still a bit stiff from where he stabbed you? Are those stitches straining at all?"
Hannibal ignored these questions, saying, "Leave and the next time I see you it'll be at the bottom of a pot."
"I was hoping to be cremated actually," Moriarty replied with a grin and a laugh. Nevertheless, once Hannibal let go, he began to back up out of the hospital room. "I'll see you later then. It was lovely to meet you and your pet."
Hannibal waited until he'd left and then moved back to his position beside Will. He stopped to see that he was shaking. "Will, you're alright now."
Will gave a small nod, still shaking. He thought about what Moriarty had said, about Hannibal. The psychiatrist hadn't denied it. But there had been more important manners at hand, Will tried to convince himself. The idea that Hannibal would not only accept him for his monstrosity but also be like him was just to big a chance to take.
More time passed and to Will it could've been days or months. Slowly, his mind began to go towards coming back out. If he wanted to, he could come up with anyone in his head and he wouldn't be alone. In his head, Hannibal, Abigail, Jack, Alana, his dogs, even John was there and occasionally Lestrade. He tried not to think to much about Sherlock. He still didn't care for him.
However, as he sat there, he realized that even though he had company, the others did not. In Will's mind, he was happy and had company but he couldn't return the favor to anyone. Not really.
Will would never be home again, get to hug Winston or any of his other animals. He wouldn't be able to work another case and for the first time in his life that saddened him. Will wouldn't be able to hug Abigail again or talk to Hannibal.
He would rot. If he went on like this, Will would continue to just rot away in this bed. His mind would go on, living, staying happy, but no one around him would. Really, he was just being a coward, allowing himself to stay trapped inside. Such a coward, it sickened him.
It was eleven thirty at night when Will slowly blinked.
His eyes were slightly dry so he blinked again, a little faster this time. Will allowed his breathing to increase ever so slightly, back to a normal pace. His body relaxed as he swallowed, flexing his hands. Will was stiff and the IV in his hand was uncomfortable.
For the first time in a long time, he took in his surroundings. No one was there in the room.
Will moved over to the side of the bed, letting his legs dangle over the edge. He was glad he was alone. If anyone had been there, even Hannibal, he probably would've tried to close up again.
It had been so long since he'd moved that when Will's feet first touched the ground he stumbled but he quickly righted himself up. He didn't quite know why he had gotten up. Will didn't need to go to the restroom but neither did he have anywhere to actually go.
He looked to where the call button for the nurses was but decided on not pressing it. He didn't have a reason to.
Will walked around the room, stretching his limps. He couldn't move far do to the IV drip so he mostly went in circles. He had promised himself that he wouldn't trap himself back in his mind but now that he was out he was afraid once more.
He didn't want to get caught. That was the first thing on his list. The second thing was what to do about Hannibal. Will wasn't sure if he should confront him or wait until the psychiatrist went to him. He wanted to know the truth, to know if what Moriarty said was right. Thinking of the right moment was the hard part though.
Finally, after moving around enough, Will got back into the bed. It was a while before he fell asleep but he did not show the nurse that he was awake when she came by on her nightly rounds. When Will did dream, it was of blood and glinting knives.
Sweating, heavy breathing, shifting around, none of that happened though. He was no longer afraid of his dreams. Now Will was afraid to face the world.
When he awoke, Will didn't move. He opened his eyes but he didn't look around or get up. Neither did he alert the nurse that he was aware when she came in. Will was curious how long it would be until someone finally noticed or if he'd have to reveal himself.
When Hannibal came, at seven in the morning, Will honestly wasn't to surprised that the first words out of his lips were, "I see you're awake."
"How did you know?" asked Will with a sigh, his head now following the psychiatrists progress to the chair beside him.
Hannibal sat down, folding his hands and replied, "You were breathing more normally. You weren't as still as you were before either though I doubt anyone else noticed."
"You're right on that. No one else did notice," agreed Will. He looked over at Hannibal and asked, "Are you here as my psychiatrist or my friend?"
"I didn't know we were friends," Hannibal said.
Will frowned slightly and replied, "You've called yourself my friend for quite some time now."
"Yes, but never the other way around. Am I your friend now?"
"It depends on the next few minutes."
"And what will happen in the next few minutes that would decide this?" asked Hannibal, cocking his head ever so slightly to the side.
"I need you to answer some of my questions."
"Alright."
Will took a shaky deep breath, slightly turning towards Hannibal but not really looking at him. It was the first time in a long time that he hadn't made eye contact with the psychiatrist. "First, how many did I kill?"
"We found seventeen bodies."
"More than I had thought," murmured Will and it was hard to keep the giddiness out of his voice. He was just barely able to pass it off as shock. "How does that make you feel? That one of your . . . one of your friends has killed so many?"
Hannibal was silent for some time, looking at Will with narrowed, analyzing eyes. "How would you feel if a friend of yours had killed that many?"
"That's not answering my question. I never asked you to say your own."
Hannibal nodded and said, "Fair enough. But maybe a question of my own will answer yours for you."
Will bit his bottom lip and finally looked Hannibal in the eyes. He was uncertain about this but he finally agreed to it. "Fine. Ask what you want to."
"Have you seen blood in the moonlight Will? It looks quite black."
Confused by the question and put off Will still nodded and replied, "I hadn't really noticed but I suppose it does. Look black that is."
"Would you like to see some more?"
In that moment every puzzle piece fit into place. Hannibal was the Chesapeake Ripper. There had never been a copy cat, never a double, or multiple people helping. Just Hannibal. Each question, each puzzle, each problem, came together for Will in that moment. It all made sense and Will suddenly realized that his answer would decide everything.
He could lie, act like he didn't know what Hannibal was talking about. Will could try to get away, go back to lying to himself and live a normal life. He could try to forget this entire incident and his darker side. Will could try to stop Hannibal or confront him on this but that would probably just get him killed. If he agreed to this, went along with Hannibal, there would be no going back. If he was caught, there would be no getting out of this.
This final answer would be the most important thing in his life. When Will finally said it, his voice was soft, whispered as if he was confessing a grievous secret. Hannibal heard him even so.
"Yes."