Will packed up his desk and gave a sigh as Jack entered the room. It was late and Will wanted nothing more than to go home to Hannibal and whatever the man had planned for him, but he still had one more class. One more thing to do before he could retire for the night.
"I'm a little busy at the moment, Jack," Will said as he slung his bag over his shoulder and clutched his laptop to his chest, heading for the exit of the classroom.
"I heard you were staying late, so I thought I'd drop by," Jack replied, following Will towards where the classroom was that Will was meant to be covering.
"Make it fast."
"How kind of you."
"Jack," Will sighed, stopping in front of the door that students were pouring into. "I'm not in the mood. I want to go home and I have another hour and a half before I can even get on the road."
"How's Dr. Lecter?" Jack asked, causing Will to sigh and be grateful that Hannibal had gotten a rile out of him earlier that day.
"Jack, I haven't seen him since you found me in that cabin. I still don't remember him." Will shifted his laptop enough to pull at his glasses just so his hands had something to do. "I only know about what you've told me and what I've read in case files. I really don't know what you are wanting from me."
"Your food was continually homemade until our last conversation and now you haven't eaten lunch at all," Jack stated matter-of-factly.
"It's flattering that you take such a concern in my eating habits, Jack." Will pushed his glasses back onto his nose and reached for the door of the classroom he was needed in.
"Where is Hannibal, Will?"
Will closed his eyes with a deep breath, before opening the classroom door. "Drop it Jack. You're barking up the wrong tree." Will stopped at an air between them that he couldn't exactly place. "Would you like to join my class? We're discussing home invaders today."
"No thank you Will," Jack stated with a shake of his head. "I have a previous dinner engagement I need to keep."
"A date?" Will asked, finally looking over his shoulder.
"One could say that," Jack replied with a smile. "Have a good class Will."
"Good night Jack," Will excused before stepping into his classroom and letting the door close behind him. He walked up to the desk and lowered his laptop to the desk, bag on the floor, opening the laptop and waiting for it to boot up. He looked over the students who waited patiently for him to start the class.
"I am Mr. Graham. You will refer to me as such. I am not sir, dude or Graham. I will be substituting for your teacher this evening. She will return for your next class." Will adjusted his glasses on his nose, once more looking around the class. "Home invaders are among the most psychopathically deranged criminals on Earth. They have no concern for the sanctity of your privacy and absolutely no respect for your life." Will typed in his password and then hooked into the HDMI port for his presentation to be added to the screen. "They have no reservations on the most heinous of behavior toward their captives, and little fear, if any at all, of consequences."
Will checked the screen and made sure everything was working before grabbing the small remote and moving around to the other side of the desk.
"Unlike burglaries where the perpetrator does not like confrontations with the house owners and only wants to steal the property itself, and prefers to wait until the occupants are not at home, home invaders integrate their sociopath hatred in their larcenous behavior."
Will switched to the next slide, walking across the front of the classroom slowly. "A very dangerous part of the home invasion psychology is that some of them are not even concerned with concealing their identity because if they perceive that exposure as a threat, they will murder the witnesses."
Will paused in his step, mind quickly fleeting away and over his and Jack's odd conversation. One where Jack didn't really demand anything from him. Didn't push him at all.
"They will often use manipulation to facilitate entry and access inside your home and then force you to comply," Will continued, though his mind was far more focused on Jack than it was on his presentation.
Will clicked the next slide and glanced over it for a moment, mouth going dry. No. He was overreacting. That's not what Jack had meant at all.
"We're going to break this into four different parts, mistakes that homeowners make. The first, thinking it can't happen to you." Will counted on his fingers. "Opening your door to criminals, backyard and driveway home invasions and lastly, the best way to prevent invasions."
A dinner engagement. Jack wouldn't be that understated, would he?
Will paused, a small bit of anxiety starting to gum up his insides. He shook his head. He was overreacting.
"Sometimes referred to as the Pollyanna Syndrome, homeowners suffer from an excessively or blindly optimistic outlook. They think that home invasion can never happen to them, that because they live in a nice neighborhood or come from money that no one would dare try to attack them."
Will's pacing stopped and he chewed on his tongue. Jack never did get to attend their last dinner party. It had been effectively ruined. Could Jack really have been referring to...?
Will looked at his watch and his skin went cold. Jack had nearly a 15 minute lead on him. With a deep breath, Will moved to the desk and closed his laptop. He had to get home.
"I have something important to take care of," Will announced, picking his bag from the ground and slinging it over his shoulder. "The rest of class is excused. I will send out the rest of the presentation via email for you to review. Please make sure you review the presentation and write an essay about what you've learned. Your teacher is expecting eight pages with no less than five sources to back up the idea of homeowners not being prepared enough. Good evening."
Will gave a nod and left the room to confused whispers that he paid no mind to. He raced from the school and out to his car. Jack was going to his house. Jack was going to find Hannibal. Will wasn't sure what he was going to find when he got home, if Jack would still be alive or not, but Hannibal was priority one. Jack was no longer a friend, he had shifted into an enemy.
"Would you like to help me with dinner?" Hannibal asked after a longer moment of silence that Molly hadn't dared to break. It was later now, the sun set and the streetlamps on. The house was dim, only the light in the kitchen turned on to be able to see, but nothing more. "Walter, I don't like to be kept waiting when I have asked a question."
"I like to be called Wally," the boy said softly and Hannibal gave a small sigh from where he sat at the table, reading a book.
"Walter is just fine. I do need to get it started and if you two are going to join Will and me, then I expect a little bit of help." Hannibal closed the book he was reading and set it on the tabletop, eyes meeting Walter.
"My son is-"
"Mom," Walter chided. The child was smart. He knew how to work the situation the way it needed to be. Hannibal watched as the boy gave a slow nod, the boy knowing, whether by instinct or instructions from Will, that you stayed useful as long as you could. Usefulness meant life. "I would be more than happy to help you with dinner."
Hannibal gave a small smile and stood from the table, moving around to the other side and untying the knots that Molly had put around her son.
Once free, Hannibal left him and moved to the kitchen, pulling the dough from the top of the fridge. "Will should be home in an hour or so," Hannibal explained, stopping when Walter didn't move. Walter looked over Hannibal for a moment, mind debating what he should do now that he wasn't restrained and he found himself slowly rising from the chair, limbs tingling with the rush of blood and headed for the kitchen.
He stood beside Hannibal and waited to be told what to do. Hannibal pushed the bowl over to Walter and waited to see what the boy would do.
"What are you making?" Walter asked curiously as he pulled the towel up and revealed a nicely risen dough.
"Biscuits."
Walter gave a nod and found the drawer with the rolling pin and Hannibal pushed the bag of flour towards the kid. Walter sprinkled some on the counter, rubbed some onto the rolling pin and then dumped the dough out of the bowl.
"We're joining you for dinner?" Molly asked from where she still sat and Hannibal didn't look up from the boy's work, interested in how well the boy was doing. Maybe Molly had taught the boy a bit because Hannibal knew that while Will could read a package and could pick up skills decently after having been shown what to do, Will wouldn't just know how to roll out dough.
"We will decide what to do with you after dinner," Hannibal answered, finally looking at Molly. "I do not want to leave him out of the decision." Hannibal returned his attention to the dough and gave a small approving nod when Walter looked up at him. Hannibal moved to the drying dishes and picked up the wine glass, looking at it for a moment before passing it over to Walter who took it with a curious expression. "Use it to cut out the biscuits. I'll get a tray."
Hannibal went for the cupboard, but stopped at the sound of an approaching car for a second time that day. Hannibal gave a confused look and went to the kitchen window, pushing open the curtain enough to see a large black SUV parked in the driveway and the driver's door opened recklessly.
"Jack," Hannibal muttered with a frown. It was just one interruption after the other, wasn't it? "Go sit back down, Walter," Hannibal instructed and Walter obeyed, wine glass going to the counter as Hannibal pulled his knife closer to him. With the knife in close reach, Hannibal took the wine glass and tipped it upside down, cutting into the rolled dough as the front door was opened.
Hannibal listened to the heavy footfall of Jack, something so familiar about this moment. A fight in a kitchen. A knife at a gun fight. But Hannibal had won the last time and he would win again.
The fights in Italy didn't count. Hannibal had lost all want for life and had let Jack win until the memory of Will came to mind and he could escape. Jack didn't have a chance. Not tonight.
"Good evening, Jack," Hannibal stated, glancing up as Jack rounded the corner. "Joining us for dinner?"
"I'm afraid our last dinner didn't go quite as planned," Jack answered with a smile to his tone.
Hannibal nodded. "It did not." Hannibal eyed the gun aimed at him, knowing it held much more of a promise than Will's did. "You're looking good Jack. Younger than in New York."
"Started working out again," Jack said with a small shrug. "How long has Will been hiding you?"
"He hasn't been hiding me. I've been intruding," Hannibal explained as he cut more biscuits out of the dough, just keeping his hands busy. "Do not blame Will. I've worked very hard to blind him."
"Wally, will you untie your mother please?" Jack asked. Hannibal paused in his work and looked up to watch as Walter looked to him as if asking permission. Walter knew exactly who was still in charge. Even if Jack had the gun, Walter knew enough about alphas and being in charge. Will had taught him all about being in charge so that Walter could take care of the dogs. Hannibal was in charge. Hannibal was the alpha. "Untie Molly, Wally," Jack instructed once more.
At a nod from Hannibal, Walter rose to his feet and went to his mother's chair, tugging at the knots. His hands trembled as the task that would ordinarily be so simple became a challenge.
"Atsipalaiduok. Tvirtai laikykite rankas," Hannibal's voice instructed gently, causing Jack to grit his teeth, wishing he understood what the man was saying. "Giliai įkvėpkite."
Walter inhaled deeply, eyes closed for a moment before he went back to his work, hands much more steady as he tugged the knots free. Once there was enough give, Molly pushed at the ropes and pulled herself free, snatching up her son from his knees and clutching him against her.
"Leave, Molly," Jack ordered, gun still trained on Hannibal, whose hand had come to rest close to the knife, ready to snatch it up if needed. There was the slamming of another car door outside and Hannibal glanced behind him as if he could see out of the window. "It is about time the man of the house joined us, don't you think?" The words were aimed at Hannibal and Hannibal didn't miss the shot at him, telling him that he was nothing in this situation.
Will slammed the car into park and jumped from it at the sight of the many different cars in his driveway. One was Jack's, just as Will knew it would be and the other belonged to Molly. What had she done? Why was she here? Why did the universe try to cram everyone from his life into the same building all at once? Could he have played the game better or was this always bound to happen.
The gun was pulled from its holster as Will raced up the front steps and onto the deck. He pushed open the front door and followed after the singular light that was on in the house, rules being followed. Rules that were meant to keep this from happening.
Will turned the corner into the rest of the house, gun up and glanced around the room quickly. Hannibal stood by the sink, knife by hand, boxed in on every side by their counters. Jack blocked the only exit, gun up and pointed at Hannibal. Molly clutched to Walter tightly over by the dining table and Will's eyes dropped to the floor where large amounts of rope were around the feet of the chairs, indicating that someone had been tied up at one time.
Will wasn't nearly as surprised as he should have been as he gun landed on Jack, his side picked, his path leading further into the darkness of the forest that had no moon, but a dark creature with antlers and sharp cheekbones to pull him along.
"Don't be stupid, Will," Jack warned, glancing over his shoulder to take in the new threat. But Will didn't lower his gun, stance strong even with the tenseness in his shoulder that had been stabbed more times than he liked. "This man is a killer."
"I know," Will stated strongly, eyes returning to Hannibal who was watching him curiously as if he hadn't expected Will to come to his rescue and was thoroughly stunned but pleased.
"Framed you for murder."
"I know."
"Tried to kill you multiple times."
Will licked at his lips, eyes meeting Hannibal's in the dim kitchen, a deep fondness in the red depths. "I know. But I've done the same to him."
Jack frowned at the words with a huff. "I can get you out of this Will. Fudge the reports, but you need to walk away."
"You're not taking him, Jack."
"Will," Molly sobbed out. Will had nearly forgotten that she was there, his eyes jumping towards the sound to find tears on her cheeks, grip excruciatingly tight on her boy.
"Will, take your family out of here," Jack instructed, nodding towards Molly and Walter, gun still aimed at Hannibal. Will shook his head, hands tightening its hold on his own gun. "Will, get the kid out of here."
Will exhaled loudly, eyes going to Walter and looking over his son. The kid had been through a lot. Too much and Will was only making it worse. But he couldn't lose Hannibal. He wouldn't leave Hannibal. He had to protect-
"Eik iš čia, mano meile," Hannibal said in an instructive tone. Will watched as Walter's face scrunched up and he looked towards Hannibal. Will followed Walter's gaze and was met with a slight smile on the doctor's lips. "Man viskas bus gerai. Išveskite savo šeimą." Hannibal gave Will a reassuring nod and Will didn't need to know Lithuanian to know exactly what the man was saying.
Will lowered his gun, shifting uncomfortably on his feet once or twice before he moved over to where Molly and Walter were. He took Molly's arm and pulled her and Walter with him from the dining room and past the kitchen into the entryway.
"Grab your things," he instructed in a low voice, doing his best to listen to whatever was going down in the kitchen, but it was silent, Jack obviously waiting for Will's family to get out safely. Walter and Molly both grabbed their coats and Molly snatched up her purse, opening the front door. She pushed Walter out and looked up at Will, confusion in her eyes. "Get out of here, Molly."
"Come with me," she whispered in a hoarse tone, tears flowing freely now. "This isn't you."
"You never really knew me, Molly. We both know exactly what our relationship was and we were too stubborn to say anything about it." Will glanced behind his shoulder to the still quiet kitchen, a nervousness drumming in his system. "I was a stand in for Walter's father and you were a stand in for Hannibal. We never really loved each other, we were just two broken people who tried to use each other to fix ourselves."
"Will..." The word was choked and broken, eyes disbelieving despite the truth that was said. She shook her head. "You don't mean that."
"Dad, please don't stay here," Walter said behind Molly from where he stood in the doorway. "Come with us."
Will bit the inside of his cheek and felt a sharp tug in his chest between the two things that he loved and wanted to protect. Hannibal, who was still in the kitchen, fate about to be determined and Walter, who was handling the situation surprisingly well.
Will's hand took Molly's arm once more, leading her out into the cold night air, but Will didn't dare close the door behind him. He had to give Hannibal the chance. Anything to help that man inside. The man he had sold his soul for. The man he was tied to by a red thread. The man he loved so fiercely he was ready to throw everything away right now.
"Get in your car and drive away Molly," Will instructed as he walked them down the front steps and towards the driveway. "Don't come back here."
"What are you going to do?" she asked, motioning Walter to get into the car.
"Whatever I need to," Will replied sharply. "Whatever I have to, to keep him alive."
"You're sick, you know that?" Molly's tone turned harsh and Will winced.
"Yeah," he muttered, breath dead as it clung to the air. "I know."
"He is bad for you Will."
"I know."
"Then why are you staying?" It was a demand, a plea, a cry, every emotion dangling in the air for Will to try to untangle and it was making his head hurt and he wanted nothing more than to shut down, turn everything off, only he couldn't turn it off. "Why?"
"I love him." Molly's eyes went wide as the words were left between them, there for the night air, the universe, the fates, God himself to hear. "I've always loved him. I told you, you were a substitute." Will sighed and looked back to the house he needed to return to, hands shaking with his worried energy. "I didn't mean for you to be. I'm sorry I didn't realize it until you sent me the divorce papers. I should have been honest with you and myself."
"You're mentally ill!"
"I-"
There was a muffled pop that made both of them jump, startled, and Will's heart dropped as he turned back to the house, ready to race in. The front door opened and Will lifted his gun only to find Hannibal's form racing out of the house. Will breathed a sigh of relief and ran to Hannibal. He had black tar running down the side of his face in the moonlight, but everything else looked fine.
"Where's Jack?" Will asked breathlessly from where he had stopped, Hannibal only a few paces away from him now. Hannibal nodded back to the house, breathing hard, breath floating away like smoke. Will's eyes went to the house and he was almost afraid to go inside and see the mess that Hannibal had made.
The front door opened and Jack stumbled out, a hand clutched to his chest, blood down the front of his coat, but he also didn't look to be injured any further to Will's eye. No, what caught Will's eye was the speed at which Jack lifted his gun, finger firmly on the trigger.
Will's blood rushed in his ears and he sprinted forward, through the snowy yard, and dragged Hannibal into the snow at another gunshot that shattered the quiet night. The snow was freezing against Will's hands as he sat up, eyes dragging over Hannibal to make sure the man was safe because there had been a cry of pain. Gurgling and harsh breathing. But it wasn't Hannibal.
"Mom!" A car door slammed shut and Will sat up to look back at where Walter was kneeling down beside a crumpled body. And even if Will didn't love the woman anymore, even if she had torn him apart and told him so many horrible things about himself, even though she didn't understand him and had used him, it didn't stop Will's blood from running cold and turning into a slush in his veins. "Mom."
"Molly," Will gasped, scrambling to his feet and slipping in the snow as he raced to her.
"Don't touch her Will," Hannibal ordered in a commanding tone, but Will couldn't stop, couldn't hear Hannibal over his own heartbeat. Hannibal pushed himself from the snow and shot a glare at Jack, who looked on in shock from where he now stood at the bottom of the stairs. "Walter, stop him, please." Hannibal pushed down the feeling of being impressed as the young boy quickly jumped into action, leaving his mother's side to catch Will. Hannibal rushed over and knelt down beside the woman, eyes trailing over the mess of blood. "Don't let him come over here, Walter."
"Save her, Hannibal," Will ordered, a panicking in his tone that made Hannibal bite his tongue in jealousy. "Please save her."
Hannibal glanced over his shoulder to see Will's face crumbled, tears in his eyes as his son held him back with a tight hug. With a deep breath, Hannibal returned his eyes to Molly, pushing his sweater sleeves up and out of the way.
"Walter, come here please," Hannibal ordered as he reached for Molly's blood soaked shirt, tearing at the hole in the fabric until he could see where the bullet had hit her. "Will, stay away." Blood was soaking the driveway, rolling down it in long smears, catching up ice on its way to the gutter. Too much blood. Hannibal wasn't truly sure if there was much he could do. "Walter, elevate her feet please. She's going into shock." The boy knelt down and lifted his mother's feet onto his lap, hands tight around her ankles.
Hannibal could hear the yells behind him between Jack and Will, but he pushed it aside to focus. He ripped his sweater up and over his head, pressing it to the gunshot wound in her ribs, holding it down tightly.
"She needs an ambulance, Jack!" Hannibal shouted out over the yelling and the night fell silent. "Someone call for medics!"
Jack jumped on it, phone from his pocket. "I need medical sent to..."
Hannibal blocked out the words once more, stealing a glance at the boy who is still holding to his mother's feet. There was not much else that Hannibal could do other than keep the pressure on the wound. He couldn't tell what the bullet had done inside of her. Chest wounds were tricky and there were a million things that could go wrong. Her lung could be collapsed, blood pressure could be dropping and the heart would eventually stop pumping, or it was possible that too much blood was gathering around her heart and that would stop it as well.
She had already closed her eyes, body still. Hannibal leaned over and placed his ear to her nose, watching her chest. Nothing. No air, no rise and fall of her chest. Absolutely nothing. He glanced at Walter once more who looked pale and sick.
Did he start CPR? He wouldn't be able to stop once he did. He wouldn't be able to run if he did. Was there a point to it? It would just make her lose more blood than she already had and that could cause her heart to stop as well if it ever started beating again. And the percentage of survival from CPR was low. Forty percent could be resuscitated and only twenty percent would live long term. Was there a point?
"Get out of here," Jack said.
Will froze as his eyes left Hannibal and went to Jack who stood numbly to the side, eyes still on Molly. "What?" he asked, voice small and broken.
"You three get out of here. I will tell them what happened," Jack instructed. "You don't need to be here when the team shows up."
"Will," Hannibal called, looking over his shoulder.
Will inhaled deeply and gave a nod, knowing the tone of voice that Hannibal was using. It was done. She was gone and the night was suddenly so very cold. And Walter was silent. Will wasn't exactly sure what to do to help the boy. He wasn't even sure what he was feeling exactly. There were so many feelings left in the air that he wasn't sure which ones were his and which ones belonged to everyone else and it was fogging his mind up.
"Blame it on me Jack," Hannibal said as he rose to his feet. "Tell them I did it. Keep yourself clean." Hannibal wiped the blood from his hands on the front of his slacks, leaving dark streaks over his thighs.
"I can't tell them that you killed her," Jack stated, eyes finally leaving the dead woman and going to Hannibal.
"What is one more murder charge to me?" Hannibal questioned, taking Will's wrist in his hand and pulling on it. "We need to go."
"I-I can't leave," Will stated with a small sob in his voice. "Molly- Molly-"
"She's gone Will," Hannibal said gently. "We can't stay here. We need to go." He gave another tug and Will nodded, licking his lips. He needed to be strong. "We'll take the boy somewhere safe."
"If I tell them that you did this, they are going to come after you," Jack pointed out, looking between the two of them.
"I know," Hannibal answered with a determined nod. "But you don't need this against you."
"Why are you offering to help me?" Jack asked.
"Will, get the boy in the car."
"What about the dogs?" Will asked, Hannibal able to feel the numbness in the empath's body.
"I will take care of the dogs," Jack assured. "Get going. You don't have long before you can't use this road anymore. It's the only one in and out to the main highway. Will, I'm sorry."
"Will, get the boy into the car," Hannibal instructed once more, pushing Will towards Walter. Will stumbled slightly and Hannibal watched as the young boy released his death hold on his mother, took his father's hand and pulled him towards the car. Hannibal looked back to Jack with a frown. "We will have to take a rain check on dinner. Wrap up your hand." Hannibal turned around to head to the car, but stopped at Jack's question.
"Why are you doing this for me?"
"We were friends once upon a time," Hannibal answered softly. "I'd like to think we still are. If not, consider this for old time's sake."
"Please make sure Will knows I'm sorry. For everything."
"I'm sure your guilt will be enough of a consolation for him."
Hannibal climbed into the driver's seat of the car and the door closed with a thud. He held out his hand to Will in the passenger seat and Will slowly passed him the keys. Hannibal started the car and pulled out of the driveway, leaving Jack standing next to a woman's body in the snow.
"Alana's?" Will asked as the streets stopped blurring into one and became something he recognized through the haze that was still over his mind, emotions far too thick and muggy. There wasn't an answer, but Hannibal pulled the car up the long driveway and towards the fountain. He threw the car in park with a jolt and turned to look over Will with concerned eyes. "I'm alright," Will answered softly, just wishing he could sleep. He just wanted today to be over. He wanted all of the things that were in his mind's eyes to disappear for a few hours, even if the sleep was restless. "Just overloaded."
Hannibal gave a nod and turned off the car. His door closed behind him and he rushed for the front door. Will glanced into the back of the car where Walter had fallen asleep against the door. Will climbed from the car and went over to Walter's side, opening the door carefully. The boy startled awake and Will gave him a small smile, but didn't say a word.
He undid Walter's seat belt and pulled the boy from the car. Walter wrapped his legs and arms around Will's body and Will shifted at the weight of the not so small anymore child. He closed the car door awkwardly with his elbow and carried his son up to the front door that had finally been opened.
Margot stood there with wide eyes, looking over the three of them, eyes taking a second look at Hannibal. "We need help," Hannibal said with a hint of dislike in his tone, but Margot only gave a small nod and moved aside to let them into the house.
"What happened?"
"An altercation with Jack Crawford," Hannibal explained. "Are my things still in my room?"
"Yes. Jack found you?" Margot asked curiously, following them into the house.
"Killed the boy's mother."
Margot stopped and looked over Will who still held to Walter's sleeping body. "You took the blame for it, didn't you? Like you did for my brother?"
"Of course he did," Will answered softly to not wake Walter.
"Hello Alana," Hannibal said in a faux warmness as the woman appeared at the top of a staircase.
"What are you doing here, Hannibal?" Alana asked as she made her way gracefully down the stairs. Her eyes took in the killer's blood stained clothes before she looked over to a worn looking Will who was struggling to keep a hold on a child that Alana assumed was Walter.
"I need you to watch the kid," Hannibal answered as he made his way to where his own room had been. Will followed after him swiftly, surprise in his bones. Alana and Margot looked about as shocked as Will felt.
"What?" Will asked as Hannibal opened the door to his room and turned on the light. Will followed Hannibal in and watched as the killer went about shoving his things into a black backpack that had been left untouched in the room.
"Walter can sleep here," Alana said gently, voice apologizing and Will guessed that Margot had explained what had happened to Molly. "Go put him in the bed. We'll take care of him."
Will hesitated, but at a kind smile from Alana, he obeyed. He set Walter down and Walter helped get himself back under the sheets, quickly asleep again. Will stepped back, hands trembling.
"We can't drag him along with us," Hannibal explained, moving closer to Will and looking over the still desensitized man. "I have a safe house in Vermont. We'll stay there until the noise dies down and it's safe to come back. We can collect the boy then and head to Europe. We'll be safer there." Will didn't say a word and Hannibal gave a small sigh. "That is, if you want to come with me. You can stay here. Say that you escaped. Or I let you go. Whatever you need to do, Will."
Will shook his head and lowered himself onto the edge of the bed, chest tight and knees weak. Shattered. That was what everything was now. Shattered into the smallest of pieces and Will wasn't sure if he could put them all back together again.
He had wanted Molly gone. He would have been happy to never speak to her again. But he didn't want her dead. She was an amazing woman and an amazing mother that had been ripped away from his son. This wasn't how it was supposed to work. There were supposed to be bitter fights and letters between lawyers. There were supposed to be judges and dark glares across a courtroom as they battled for their child. It wasn't supposed to be so one sided.
Hannibal waited for a moment more, Will simply looked over Walter and when there was no answer, Hannibal went for the ensuite bathroom to clean up. He pulled his bloody clothes off and then scrubbed at his hands and arms in the sink before glancing down at the decently made knife wound in his side. With a deeply annoyed breath, he hurriedly cleaned it and put some light bandaging that would hopefully hold until he could find something more substantial. He pulled on some of his other clothes and tossed the bloody clothes into the trash. He tied up the bag, bringing it with him from the bathroom, eyes landing on Will who was reaching out towards the sleeping child.
Walter was pulled from sleep with a hand in his hair and he blinked in the light that was on in the bedroom. He looked over his dad, who wore a sad kind of smile, but the sleep in his system made it difficult for him to exactly place the expression.
"Dad?" he asked softly, trying to sit up just a bit.
"Hush," Will shushed softly. "You're going to stay here for a while. Alana and Margot are going to take care of you until it's safe for me to come back. Do you understand?"
"How long will that be?" Walter was a little more awake now, eyes going behind his dad and to where two women were standing. Both were tall, thin and beautiful with dark hair and bright blue eyes. Both looked worn and tired and Walter felt bad that he was imposing.
"I don't know," Will replied honestly and Walter gave a nod. "But I will come back for you."
"Promise?" Walter asked in a frightened tone.
"I promise."
Walter gave another nod and exhaled deeply through his nose, eyes looking around the room until they stopped on Hannibal who looked ready to run, ready to take on the world. "Rūpinkis mano tėčiu," Walter said into the room. Will's eyes widened and he looked up at Hannibal who seemed to understand completely. Hannibal gave a single, sober nod. "Jis mėgsta apsimesti stipresniu nei yra."
"Will, we need to go," Hannibal said, as he put his pack over his shoulder. He turned back to Alana and Margot. "We need a new car. Jack's going to tell them which one I took. I need somewhere to ditch it."
"The Verger Estate has extensive grounds," Margot informed in a voice that Hannibal took to mean that hiding the car wouldn't be any sort of issue. "We have a car you can use as well."
"Thank you." Hannibal glanced back over his shoulder to where Will still lingered beside his son and he nearly felt guilty for ripping Will away from the boy. Hannibal turned back and went to the bed, hand taking Will's shoulder firmly. "We need to go. We don't have time to waste." Will looked up at Hannibal with a small bittersweet half smile that broke Hannibal's heart. He leaned down and placed a kiss to Will's lips in hopes of making the smile a little more on the sweet side. "Come along love. You can rest in the car."
Will leaned over Walter and placed a kiss to the boy's head before getting to his feet and leaving the bedside with Hannibal behind him. Alana followed them from the room, but Margot stayed behind stating that she would stay with Walter to be there if he had nightmares.
"We have a truck in the barn," Alana explained as she led them back through the house and to the front door. "The workers use it." She stopped at the front door, a hand firm on it so that they couldn't leave, so that they had to listen. Or at least, Hannibal had to listen. "The spare key is in the bumper. Leave your car there and I will have someone take care of it in the morning."
"Thank you Alana," Will said, pulling her into a hug. Alana returned it, though it was short lived, neither one of them really over exactly what had happened between them so long ago. So many emotions that had never been sorted out and this was in no way the night to do it. "As soon as everything settles, I will get Walter."
Alana gave a nod before her gaze went to Hannibal and narrowed. "You can only use the truck if you do something for me," Alana said and Will stepped out of the way, feeling awkwardly out of place with how pointed the comment was. Hannibal's eyebrows rose as he waited for her terms. "You break that promise."
Hannibal's lips pursed as he regarded the request. "The one I made to kill you?"
"That one," Alana responded with a nod, hand still firmly on the door to keep them in place. "If not, I will call the police myself and tell them exactly where you're going."
"I have other safe houses, Alana. More accounts than they could ever find. It would not be difficult for me to change my plans."
"If you want my silence, the boy to stay safe and the truck, you have to go back on your promise."
Will looked over Hannibal and could see the detest in his eyes. Will didn't think it was from the idea of not being able to kill Alana, but from the idea of going back on a promise. Will knew that Hannibal didn't break promises, no matter what they were. They were fulfilled completely and he wondered if that had come about because of Mischa as well. So much of this man was driven by his sister and it wouldn't surprise Will if this was another aspect of Hannibal the young girl had shaped.
"I will not make good on my promise," Hannibal finally settled on.
Alana gave a nod and removed herself from the door, letting Hannibal out and into the night. Will went to follow and stopped when Alana caught his arm, looking back at her. "Stay safe. Walter needs you."
Will didn't say a word, just gently pulled his arm free and left the house, hearing the door shut behind him. There was an emptiness that was settling in his chest at the idea of leaving Walter here. He would be safe, Will knew he would, but that didn't stop the twisting feeling that he was abandoning his son.
The key was just where Alana said it was. With bloody clothes left in the old car and the very little Hannibal had packed shoved into the truck, the engine rattled on, old and used but sturdy. The truck pulled back out onto the main road and Will moved across the bench until he was beside Hannibal, leaning against him with his head on the killer's shoulder, eyes shutting.
"Thank you for trying to help her," he whispered into the cab. "You didn't have to." He yawned and reached out to turn the heater up so he wouldn't have to see his breath in the car. He removed his glasses and placed them on the dash.
"You're welcome," Hannibal whispered back, a hand leaving the steering wheel so that he could wrap an arm around Will's waist and pull him closer. "Try to get some sleep. We've got about eight hours ahead of us and I'm not stopping unless we need gas."
Atsipalaiduok. Tvirtai laikykite rankas. Giliai įkvėpkite: Relax. Keep your hands steady. Deep breath.
Eik iš čia, mano meile. Man viskas bus gerai. Išveskite savo šeimą: Get out of here, my love. Everything will be fine. Get your family out.
Rūpinkis mano tėčiu. Jis mėgsta apsimesti stipresniu nei yra: Take care of my dad. He likes to pretend to be stronger than he is.