SO, I HAVEN'T UPDATED IN A LOOOONG TIME, AND WITH THE NEW (AND CONFUSING) SEASON OF HANNIBAL ON I FEEL LIKE I SHOULD WRITE SOME STUFF FOR YOU GUYS. ENJOY?
Summary: "I forgive you."
Forgiveness is Sin-by PS
The catacombs were dark and cold, much like Will's chest felt at the moment. The overbearing weight of religious intentions hovered over him like a winter cloud, ready to deploy death and loneliness.
His breath shuttering he exhaled, eyes cast to the ceiling, waiting and wishing.
"I forgive you."
The words were there, in the open, breathed out in a sigh that exemplified long suffering and sadness. But, they were there.
And he meant them.
He knew that the lion waited in the darkness, inhaling the exhaled words, taking in their weight and reality, coveting them for himself.
Will felt confused after he said the words, but, his head and heart felt lighter, as though he had just released some great secret.
"You've done the right thing." Abigail was at his shoulder again, there, on the edges, her image blurry like an old photograph.
"The very definition of 'rightness' is opinionated," her told her ghostly apparition, her form that was seared in his mind, his daughter that refused to leave. "We conclude what is 'right' by our own principles and standards. There is no true 'right' in the world."
She leaned against a pillar behind him, sighing, "if there is no 'right' then there is no 'wrong.'"
Will blinked at her, looking off to the side, "exactly."
Her eyes widened in understanding, "that's why you forgive him. What he is doing is neutral. Not 'right,' but not 'wrong' either." She narrowed her eyes at him then, "you would follow his principles because he himself defines them."
Will's lungs felt dense and heavy again, "you followed him blindly too. You trusted him, cared for him."
"Not as much as you did." Abigail's hand reached up to touch her scars under her scarf, "I did not love Hannibal the same way that you did. Your love for him was all consuming, edging on obsession, like his love for you is. My love was respectful, and out of fear."
"A deer cannot truly love a human," Will said, head aching again, "prey can never truly trust that which can harm it and kill it. But, it can make itself believe that is can."
Abigail inclined her head, her long hair falling over her shoulder and down, like murky water. "Are you a deer Will?"
"No," Will laughed mechanically, "I am a mongoose, and I missed my chance when the snake slithered by."
Abigail did not answer him, instead, she looked at one of the statues nearby.
"Saint Christopher," he told her, staring at her profile as her blue eyes wandered over the grainy stone. "Patron and protector of children and travelers."
Abigail smiled gently at that, "do you think he could have protected us from Hannibal?"
Will swallowed, over-laden with guilt and grief, "no. No one can protect us from Hannibal. Not anymore."
Abigail turned to him then, "could anyone ever?"
Will shook his head, heart racing suddenly, vision going blurry, "no," he choked out, "and I'm so sorry for that."
She shrugged, coffee hair swaying silkily, "the dead do not suffer the living. Yet, I still suffer. Hannibal is a predator Will, he has never been anything but that."
Will blinked, "no one is truly born like that. He was made into what he is, crafted. Carved from clay and blood, made into a creature that craves meat and hearts as it has none itself."
Abigail's lips parted and she stared at him, eyes sparkling for a moment before she stood gracefully and walked over to him.
"Then find out who made him," she said, hand reaching up to gently clasp at the side of his face, much like Hannibal had before he had stabbed him, killed a part of him, "find out how to defeat the monster."
Will swallowed again, throat dry and aching, "and which monster is that? Hannibal, or myself?"
Abigail smiled at him, her pale skin fading, soaking through with blood again, like frail tissue paper carrying too much moisture, "is there a difference?"
No, he decided as he turned away from the Saint's statue, alone again in reality, the cold seeping into his bones once more. No. There was no difference.
OK. I HOPE YOU ALL LIKED IT! IT WAS KINDA CHARACTER STUDY MEETS WEIRD THEORETICAL/PSYCHOLOGICAL-NESS.
I THINK THAT WILL KNOWS THAT ABIGAIL IS DEAD, BUT THAT SHE IS SERVING AS HIS SUBCONSCIOUS RIGHT NOW.
SO, TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT, AND WHAT YOU THINK OF THIS SEASON THUS FAR! HOPE TO WRITE MORE SOON! MUCH LOVE!
(ALSO, PLEASE FORGIVE ANY MISTAKES-EVEN THOUGH FORGIVENESS IS SIN! SQUEE! OK, SORRY, I COULDN'T RESIST!)
