Being missed was unfamiliar to Walter, the words having never been said to him by anyone other than his mother who had to say those words to him. It was like a law that mothers had to miss their children, so it didn't really count. Will wasn't his dad. Not really. But Will missed him, so that had to actually mean something.

Walter let himself sit in the feeling for probably longer than he needed to, unable to sleep that night at the idea that soon his dad would be coming for him. His dad and Hannibal. But even the feeling of Hannibal's unwelcomeness was softened by the love that Will had for him.

And that love he could give back with his obedience. The Verger's home was going to be his personal vacation and he didn't much mind the idea. No school, no bullies, no homework. That was so far away and Walter was going to enjoy it while it lasted. If Hannibal was anything to go on, Walter knew he would be back at school immediately, something stuck up, stuffy and prestigious.

And the action started that evening. Alana and Margot had to go out of town for a few hours after dinner and Walter had been placed in charge. Well, kind of in charge. He was the backup if staff wasn't able to fulfill their duties of looking after the boys.

Why not play around with the kid? After all, Morgan had been nice to him and Walter's dad had told him that Walter was safe with Alana and Margot. He could relax and be better. Morgan could be his friend. At least for the time being. He could pretend. It would be better than sitting around all day and reading god awful boring books. Did no one like baseball or comics? Was it that hard to find even just a Green Lantern comic to read?

He walked through the hall, passing by a grandfather clock that sounded every day at nine A.M. and nine P.M. respectfully. One for when Morgan was supposed to be in bed and the other for when Morgan's morning classes were supposed to start. Walter had learned to ignore the chiming and song that played out.

Without a knock, he pushed open the door to Morgan's room and stepped in, flicking on the light. "Morning, kid," he called. Morgan moaned, rolling over and rubbing his blue eyes tiredly. "Wake up."

"What time is it?" Morgan whispered with a yawn.

"Like ten PM," Walter answered with a shrug.

Morgan groaned and pulled the blankets over his head. "Wally, it's late. I want to sleep."

"Let's play." Walter moved over to the bed and sat down, pulling at the blanket.

"No, I'm sleepy," Morgan grumbled, grip weak. The blanket was pulled from his hands and he opened his eyes once more.

"Come on," Walter pushed again. "Let's play."

"No."

"You're gonna miss me when my dad finally comes to get me," Walter reminded, teasing in his tone. That seemed to do the trick. Morgan sat up and stretched before rubbing at his tired eyes again. "Let's go find Applesauce." Walter got to his feet and made his way to the door.

"Wait up!" Morgan said with a bright smile, rushing after Walter. He reached out and snatched onto Walter's arm so he could keep up with the boy whose steps were much faster and larger than his. Walter glanced down at the hold on his arm, but didn't say anything. "My moms are gonna-"

"They won't know, kid."

"How?"

"Just trust me, will ya?" Walter shot the kid a smile and pulled him along to the kennel where Morgan dropped to his knees and opened up the gate. Applesauce mauled Morgan, knocking the boy off his feet with licks. Morgan giggled and pushed at the dog's face. Walter smiled and made the same noise that Will had taught him. "Tss." Applesauce immediately moved from Morgan and sat down, tail wagging and tongue hanging out.

"Whoa," Morgan whispered, sitting up. "How did you do that? I can't ever get Applesauce to listen to me."

"You have to show them that you're the alpha," Walter explained just as Will had to him once upon a time. "Right now you're just a friend. You're not in charge and unless you're in charge, they won't listen to you."

"I tried to teach Applesauce to roll over, but we didn't really get very far." Morgan reached out and patted the dog's head. Walter smiled.

"Are there treats? We could work on that."

"In the kitchen," Morgan answered immediately, jumping to his feet. "I'll get them!"

Something soft was placed to Will's cheek and he gave a small huff of laughter, but couldn't bring himself to open his eyes. He turned and hid his face further into the mattress, unsure where any pillows were. He didn't really care. His mind was far more focused on the absolutely wrecked soreness in his body.

"Good Morning, Mr. Lecter," a sweet voice whispered and Will groaned.

"I can't go another round with you yet," Will muttered, fingers tangling in the bed sheets as kisses were pressed along his bare back.

"Did I finally sate your hunger, Will?" Hannibal teased, nipping at Will's bruised shoulder. Will moaned and his hips rocked into the mattress at a stirring in his gut. There was a chuckle from Hannibal. "Not ready for another round, Mr. Lecter? You wouldn't be lying to me, would you?"

"No," Will answered, arching up with a sigh against Hannibal's traveling kisses against his back. Hannibal sucked at the skin behind Will's ear and his hips grinded once more into the bed. "Maybe," he corrected with a groan. "I don't know if I could take you inside of me just yet."

"I hurt you that badly, did I?" There was something smug in the question, something that told Will that Hannibal wasn't sorry at all for what had occurred hours before. "Good." Hands took Will's hips and pulled him up and onto his hands and knees. Will gasped at the movement and his arms and legs shook under his weight. "You won't be forgetting me anytime soon, will you?" A kiss was placed to the small of his back.

"No," Will answered in a breathless whisper. "I'll be able to feel you for the rest of my life."

"That is my design."

Will gasped and bit at his bottom lip as fingertips brushed against his abused entrance. His lip throbbed between his teeth, most likely bruised from Hannibal's bite the night before. "Please," Will whispered, heart pounding in his throat. He swallowed around it as the fingers continued to circle him with the utmost gentleness. "Careful."

"Careful?" Hannibal asked back with a small laugh. "I never want to be careful with you again. I doubt you deserve such a fate, darling boy." Will's head dropped, neck already tired with holding up the weight of his head. Fog spung messily across his vision and his shoulder ached at the position he was once more holding. "You're still so open for me, I don't even have to waste time prepping you." Will gasped as a finger pressed easily inside of him and could feel tears prick at his eyes. "You could take me so beautifully like this."

"Gentle, Hannibal," Will warned once more, toes curling at a hot pain in his gut as his body sent blood south once more, against his willing it not to. "Hurts."

"Perfect." A hand took his half hard length and stroked at it firmly. Will's elbows buckled and he dropped down to his forearms to stay upright. "I want you broken into pieces Will. A shattered teacup that I can put back together when I want to."

"H-Hannibal." The name was hissed through Will's teeth, knuckles aching at how hard he was clinging to the sheets in his fists. A second finger pushed into him with no issue and a trembling ran up Will's spine. "I-I can't, Hannibal. Please."

"I think we proved last night that your cant's are a mind over matter issue, Mr. Lecter. You can and you will as long as I see fit."

Hannibal's fingers crooked and Will couldn't hold back the cry as his prostate was pushed into and rubbed at relentlessly.

"Fuck. Oh my god, Hannibal," Will gasped out, shaking his head numbly. "I can't. It hurts."

"Then tell me to stop," Hannibal instructed. "I would never give you more than what I think you could handle, dear boy."

"I want you," Will whispered, unsure where the words were coming from. His mind was fogged over and his mouth was working without his instruction. "Please, Hannibal."

There was a hum from Hannibal behind him and a kiss to his thigh as the fingers inside of him continued to abuse that bundle of nerves.

"You're sure you can take me?"

"Give me you, damn it Hannibal." Despite the ache in his knees, Will noticed that he was rocking back onto Hannibal's fingers like some desperate teenager.

"I need you to be able to walk today, dear boy. We do have items of business to attend to." There was a smug sort of smile in Hannibal's tone and Will glanced over his shoulder and to his husband who looked just as battered and bruised as Will felt.

"Stop being such an ass and be my monster," Will hissed. "Break this bed while you use me."

"Any other demands of me, Mr. Lecter?" Hannibal teased.

"You're enjoying that name quite a bit," Will whispered as Hannibal slowly guided him onto his back. Will gave a small smile and made room for Hannibal to settle between his thighs. Hannibal kissed at Will's cheek, guiding Will's legs around his hips.

"I'm a bit partial to it," Hannibal admitted softly as he pressed himself inside of Will. Will winced with a hiss and circled his arms around Hannibal to ground himself. "Are you-"

"Don't grow a conscious now, Dr. Lecter," Will muttered, breath straining in his lungs. His eyes flickered open, lashes damp with tears. Every inch of his body was alight with pain, but his monster would fix that. His monster would trick him into pleasure. "Don't stop until I'm screaming your name."

"You terrible creature," Hannibal reprimanded with a sharp thrust of his hips.

"Fuck!"

"You screamed my name last night. Is your throat not sore?"

"Not like yours." Will shot Hannibal a wicked grin that was snapped off his face with another harsh thrust. Will's nails dug into Hannibal's back at the punishing rhythm that was set. "Yes," Will whispered, clutching Hannibal tightly to him. "Like that, monster."

There was a growl and a bite to Will's neck. Will's head tipped back to allow Hannibal room to work. "You keep calling me that," Hannibal muttered breathlessly.

"I'm a bit partial to it," Will teased, once more put in his place with a deep thrust.

Margot gave a smile. "Let me speak to him," she said softly as she looked over the adorable little scene that had a frown on Alana's face. "Maybe we should get Morgan back to his own bed. There's no telling how late they were up."

Margot stepped closer to the bed where both Walter and Morgan were snuggled down into Applesauce, who looked up at Margot's approaching form before laying her head back on her paws.

She reached over and ruffled Morgan's growing locks that were more curly than she thought they would be. He must have gotten them from her mother's side of the family.

Her brother's blue eyes opened to stare up at her and she gave her son a smile. She had long since gotten over the terror of those eyes that looked up at her with the same intenseness that her brother had, but the boy being her son did nothing to keep those memories at bay. She couldn't blame the poor child. He had been her salvation and she loved him dearly, even if he wasn't truly hers.

"Morgan, go with your mother back to bed. Take Applesauce with you. I need to speak to Wally," Margot whispered softly.

Morgan gave a tired nod and climbed from the bed, a whistle called Applesauce after him. Walter sat up at movement from the dog and rubbed at his eyes with a yawn. He watched as Morgan was guided out of the room and glanced around. He couldn't remember having fallen asleep, but he was grateful that for once it had been a blank sleep and not full of dead bodies.

Margot waited for Alana to shut the door before she turned to Walter, smile kind with no hidden agenda behind it.

"Wally, we've been speaking to your dad. They will be stopping by later today to pick you up."

"Today?" Walter asked, sleep snapping from his system immediately. He sat up a bit straighter, eyes a bit brighter. "Today, today?"

Margot's laugh was light and sweet and Walter couldn't help but think that he would miss the woman's kind nature.

"Today, today," she agreed with a nod. "There's also something else you need to know, Wally." Margot was quiet for a moment and Walter's brows furrowed. "I just want you to be prepared for what's coming."

"What?" Walter asked in confusion. "Margot, what do you mean? I already know that Hannibal is going to be with him. That doesn't bother-"

"They got married, Wally."

Walter stared and Margot reached out to take his shoulder with a gentle squeeze in hope that the boy would stay stable.

"Married," he whispered, with a nod. "They're married. This is... Really going to be it, isn't it?"

"What do you mean?" Margot slowly moved closer to Walter and sat beside him on the bed, feet up and back against the headboard in a single fluid movement.

Walter looked over her for a moment before finally answering. "I'm going to be living on the run with two murderers."

"Will isn't-"

"Please," Walter interrupted. "I know my dad isn't as innocent as everyone thinks he is. I don't know everything in excruciating detail, but if someone like Hannibal loves my dad, then he has to have done something."

Margot was quiet and gave a small nod. "Are you going to be alright?"

"Alright?" Walter gave a laugh. "I have to be. I don't have much of a choice. I doubt Hannibal has much of a level temper or a tolerance for things that cause annoyance. I refuse to be one."

"You could stay here. Or we can make arrangements for you to live with your family," Margot offered.

"Will is my family," Walter said firmly.

"Your mother's family," Margot clarified.

Walter gave a look of dislike and Margot blinked in question. "My grandparents want nothing to do with me after that serial killer attacked us and my aunt has never liked me because I was just some one night stand mistake and my mom should have gotten rid of me the moment she found out I was going to be born. Will is honestly the best I've got." Walter gave a deep and thoughtful sigh. "And he's what I want. I don't want to be with something as uncertain as you or my mother's family. No offense," he added quickly.

"None taken," Margot assured lightly. "I know that my wife is difficult to live with."

"That's an understatement," Walter grumbled and Margot gave another laugh.

"Wally, I wanted to thank you for being so kind to my son while you've been here. I know he is difficult to get along with. He's got his own little personality." Margot took Walter's shoulder once more and Walter grimaced at the lie that was being told. He hadn't been kind in the slightest. It took his dad ordering him to do such a thing for him to finally start acting like a decent human being. "He's been through some really hard times lately. You've been... He talks about you all of the time. You make him so happy."

"I really didn't do much," Walter whispered, guilt pooling through him like Noah's flood.

"Listening to him is enough to gain his favor. Alana and I aren't around much. We try to make as much time for him as we can. That's why I take him riding, but between work and his schooling, we really only have meals to spend together. And he doesn't have many friends. Only business partners' children when we have meetings." Margot gave a sad breath out and shook her head. "You have no idea what seeing him smiling again feels like. He hasn't smiled in so long."

"It was because of him being kidnapped, wasn't it?"

Margot froze, blue eyes tight on Walter and Walter blinked, mouth shut tight. He hadn't meant for the words to come out. He had told Morgan that he wouldn't tell, but the curiosity had taken over him before he could stop it.

"How do you know about that?" Margot asked softly, lips barely moving.

"I-I-I..." Walter gave a fake smile and shrugged. "Can we have breakfast?"

"Walter Jonathan Graham," Margot hissed and Walter stopped, eyes wide as he looked over the normally calm and monotone woman. He hadn't known that the woman was capable of any other emotion other than mostly bored and he couldn't stop the shock buzzing through his system. "I do not often demand to know things from you, but this is concerning my son and is important. How did you hear about that?"

"He-he told me not to tell you. Please!" Walter begged, unsure why he was sticking up for the child that had been nothing more than an annoyance since day one. "Morgan told me. He said that he's afraid of water now because he was held underwater and nearly died. Please don't tell him I told you. He doesn't want you to know."

"Thank you for letting me know." Margot gave a small nod. "I won't tell him or Alana. This will stay between us. Promise."

Walter gave a relieved breath. "Can we eat breakfast now?"

Margot gave a smile. "I'm sure we can find something. Come on." She tapped Walter's knee and got from the bed, Walter quickly following after.

"Hey, Margot?" Walter asked as he stepped out of the door she held open for him. She hummed in answer and Walter looked down at his hands as he followed the now very familiar path of hallways. "Thanks for not pushing on the marriage thing. I'm not sure I'm quite ready to face that yet."

"You're a strong boy, Wally." Margot reached out and ruffled at the dark hair on Walter's head and Walter ducked away from her with a smile. "I'm sure you will figure this out."

"Are my parents good people, Margot?" Walter grimaced at the question. "Do I have anything to be afraid of?"

"Your parents are wonderfully kind people," Margot assured. "They just have a bit more darkness in them than normal people. They would never hurt you Walter. They aren't men like that. They will protect you. The rest of the world is who needs to be afraid of them."

Will gave a sigh and looked over the tape that was across his front door in Wolf Trap. There was something unreal about the location being taped off as a crime scene, long forgotten now and just never cleaned up.

"Everything alright, mylimasis?" Hannibal asked, a hand resting against the small of Will's back. Will glanced over at Hannibal before he turned back to the staircase in front of him that led up to the deck.

"This place is stained now," Will whispered, glancing back and towards the driveway where there was a darker color across some of the pavement. He closed his eyes with a deep breath and clenched his fists. "I don't want to be here, Hannibal. I don't like it here."

"Let's just grab some of your things and some stuff for the boy and we'll be on our way," Hannibal whispered comfortingly, pressing a kiss to Will's temple. "We never have to come back here again."

"Do you know how many people I lost or nearly lost here?" Will closed his eyes and turned his head away from the house.

"Stiprybės, mano brangiausias," Hannibal said in a constructive voice that Will found oddly assuring. Will gave a nod and went for the stairs, climbing them two at a time, Hannibal close behind him.

The house was cold, empty and yet so loud with the screams that were trapped in the walls. Will took a moment longer to gather his strength before he pushed into the home and glanced around. The kitchen had been cleared from the dinner that Hannibal had been making that night. The rope gone, the blood gone, the knives gone. Everything was stripped to the barest that it could be, but clean all the same. Cleaned away as if the monstrous night had never occurred.

"Will," A sharp voice said to his side.

Will winced at the tone and closed his eyes. He really couldn't do this right now. He wasn't sure he could ever do this again. His mind was usually so pleasantly blank with Hannibal around, so why was she here now?

"You got married?" Molly asked, stepping through the house easily, fingers running across the kitchen chair that she had been tied in that night. Will opened his eyes and took a step away from her, bumping into a person and Will jumped with a small sound from his throat. Will turned to face Hannibal and found a concerned look from the man. "You're that afraid of him?" Molly mocked, something so out of her character that it made Will stiffen up.

"Will?" Hannibal asked softly, a hand gently caressing his cheek. Will shifted away from him and stumbled away.

"I'm just going to go get some of Wally's things," Will whispered, pointing to the stairs before racing to them.

"How is my son, Will?" Molly asked, already waiting in the upstairs hall for him when he reached the top of the stairs. "You do remember that he is mine, don't you?"

"He's just as much mine as he is yours, Molly," Will corrected, pushing open the door to Walter's bedroom. He stopped, coming face to face with a massive mess strewn across a desktop. Will hesitated, but slowly made his way over to it and stopped.

"Insightive little thing, isn't he?" Molly asked, reaching out to pick up a piece of paper that had a picture of Hannibal and Will on it. One from somewhere in Europe, somewhere deep in Italy. "Learning everything he can on Hannibal."

Will could only stare at the echoes of his own past, each one slowly a little louder than the others. Will's fingers trailed over the picture of Italy and he tried desperately to pull that moment to the forefront of his mind, but couldn't find it.

"Was this you protecting my son, Will? Was this you doing what was right for our family?"

"I..." Will trailed off, dropping the picture before reaching out to another one that was pinned to a cork board. He pulled it from the pin and stared at a cliff face that had a single house at the top of it. Why did he know this house? "I taught him how to stay safe."

"Safe? My son, chasing after killers is him staying safe?" Molly scoffed, but her voice wasn't quite as grating as it had once been. Will's focus was far more pinpointed on the picture in his hand.

He had another relapse, which is becoming more and more constant now, Hannibal's written words told him from a notebook. A black leather notebook that he hadn't dared to open since Alana had given it to him. But he had read it before. Many, many times before. He was sure of it. He's still on that cliff...

Will dropped the picture and scrambled from the room and towards his bedroom, tearing open the door and racing to his dresser. He ripped open the top drawer and pulled at the fake bottom until he came face to face with sketches and letters from Hannibal's hand as well as the black leather notebook that would be filled with Hannibal's cursive. He had hidden the notebook away the moment Hannibal had stayed, knowing that everything would crumble eventually and he didn't want this taken.

Will snatched up the notebook and flipped it open, staring down at the words on the first page.

Injuries include stab wounds to the shoulder and face. Both have been stitched. Head trauma, a concussion most likely. Sprained wrist. Possible bruised lung. Possible short term amnesia. I won't know the extent of it until Will is more responsive. He's still heavily sedated due to his injuries.

Will's hands trembled as he flipped through the pages a few more times until landing on another entry.

Will snuck into the bathroom while I was in the bath and tried to drown me. Cunning boy almost succeeded. If he had paid more attention to his surroundings, he would have noticed the items within my reach. A wine glass is something I had never considered a weapon, but it was vicious in its use.

A sharp pain erupted behind Will's eyes and he gasped, a hand going to his right temple in an attempt to keep his head from splitting in half. He stumbled back and into the bed, book tumbling from his hands.

"You're unstable," Molly said in Will's ear.

"Shut up," Will hissed, clutching to the bed frame to keep upright.

"My son doesn't need someone as fucked up as you as their father."

"Shut up!" Will yelled, voice bright as it bounced around the room.

The clawfoot tub was a brilliant white looking like it had just been scrubbed clean with bleach. Steam rose into the air, the room silent in its relaxed state. A man with silvering hair lay in the tub. As Will stepped closer he found the pristine tub was filled with a deep crimson liquid, something that shouldn't be bathed in.

And there was Hannibal. Eyes closed, hands gripping the sides of the tub, a glass of wine near him on a chair that he had moved to the tub.

Will wasn't sure where he was, but a lighthouse was not something he thought he would find at the bottom of a cliff in the Atlantic and he was sure that whether this was a dream or hell, that he was going to finish what he started. Hannibal couldn't be in this world. Not anymore. Not after what they had both done together. And he didn't belong here either. He would take care of that.

With silent footsteps, Will stepped up to the tub, going to one side, hands finding Hannibal's throat as if it were second nature. Maroon eyes jumped awake, but Will shoved them under the blood that filled the tub.

Fingernails clawed at Will's wrists, drawing blood to mix with the tub. Feet kicked and the blood splashed across the tiles, wetting Will's bare feet.

Will would remove them both. No more pain or suffering and absolutely no more blood. No more crimson spilt. No more life drained away in sticky copper scents. No more fucking blood.

A wine glass shattered against Will's face and Will slipped in his attempt to step out of the way. Hannibal rose to the surface sputtering and coughing, water leaving his mouth.

Will blinked. Water. He was sitting in a puddle of it that was slowly being stained with the red wine that had been thrown at him. His fingers touched the small nick in his cheek. It wouldn't be enough to leave a scar, but it was enough to wake him up.

With wide eyes, Will scrambled away from the tub, spreading the water further across the bathroom floor. Hannibal climbed from the tub, grabbing a nearby towel and wrapping it around his waist, coughing so hard he began dry heaving. His hand took the side of the tub until he finally emptied his stomach into the tub and Will could only watch.

Hannibal's legs shook and he dropped to the bathroom floor, looking over at Will with watering eyes and flushed skin. "Are you alright?" he rasped out, throat raw. Will gave a shocked look, pushing himself even further away from Hannibal who was abnormally calm for having nearly been killed. "We need to get that cut taken care of so it doesn't get infected and make sure you don't have any glass in it."

"I-I just," Will stuttered. "But I just-"

"Doctor's orders."

"You're as sick as him," Molly whispered.

Will's knees gave out beneath him and he tumbled downwards before swift hands caught him. "Will," Hannibal said in concern, supporting the empath's weight as he trembled, hands still clutching at his head.

"Sick," Molly repeated, stepping around Hannibal. "He's going to kill my son, Will."

"No," Will whispered, so many voices and images swirling through his head he was going to throw up.

The stairs creaked and Will held his breath, keeping his back flushed to the wall, listening as footsteps started up it. Simple, tired footsteps, heading to bed after a long day of God's knows what. Probably disposing of another body. It would make sense with the amount of blood that stained the hallways, the amount of blood that caked Will's feet and gummed up between his toes.

The silver haired man hit the landing and Will moved with a deep breath, a single fluid motion. His hands found Hannibal's chest and he shoved. Hands desperately snatched at Will's arms, but he pulled his arms free from the death grip and the man tumbled down the stairs.

"You think that Hannibal Lecter wants my child around him?" Molly demanded, voice a shout. Will shook his head. "He just wants to use you like he always has."

"Will, look at me," Hannibal whispered, pulling Will's face to look up at him.

Will kept his eyes shut tight, head pounding, splitting in two. Bile rose in his throat as his stomach lurched. "No," he whispered, shaking his head in Hannibal's grip despite the fact that it just made his head throb. "No, no, no, no."

Hannibal slumped in his chair and Will let the wine glass slip from the man's fingers, falling and shattering on the floor. Will rose to his feet and set his glass of whiskey aside, eyes going to find the lighthouse out of the window.

The spiral stripes were menacing now, no comfort in them now that the drugs were fully out of Will's system. His shoulder ached with a deep stiffness, but it wouldn't matter soon. Not when smoke was already slowly beginning to seep into the house from the outlet box that Will had tampered with earlier.

Will walked over to Hannibal's chair and his eyes looked over the man that had missed the drugs in his own wine. Will's hand reached out and he brushed back the silvering locks of hair from Hannibal's face, sad that he would never see those brilliantly red eyes again.

"This is my design," Will whispered, tipping Hannibal's head back to kiss the man. As much as Will wished the man could kiss back, he knew that his fate would be sealed if Hannibal did kiss him back. He would never be able to kill Hannibal if Hannibal were to kiss him back, if Hannibal were able to love him. It was safer this way.

Will pulled Hannibal's body from the chair and laid the man out on the floor, placed in a comfortable position. Something natural and simple as if Hannibal had chosen to take an afternoon nap on the hardwood floor.

Will glanced up at the flicker of bright orange and yellow, smoke now fully blocking all view of the lighthouse, of his Watching Star.

Will gave a sad little smile as he slowly lowered himself to be beside Hannibal, a hand taking the killer's. He closed his eyes and curled up into Hannibal's side, listening to the crackling of the fire eating at the house around them.

The smoke held an acrid scent, so pungent that Will could taste the burning materials.

This was right. This was just. This was how it needed to end. Something glorious enough to fit the killer that Will held tightly to, but also something that they could never come back from. Not like that swan dive from the cliff, though how they did survive was still a question to Will. The memory was foggy at best. But he didn't need to remember. Not now. Now when smoke caressed his lungs and head kept him and his love warm against the rainy chill that was trying to sweep into the house.

"The moment you are away, you will kill Wally," Molly screamed in Will's ear and Will sobbed at the way the words dinged around the inside of his skull like a bell. "Hannibal will manipulate you to."

"No," Will repeated once more, fighting against the hands that held to him, supported him carefully.

"You're going to take a knife to my baby boy, Will!"

"Will," Hannibal's voice was distant, begging for Will's attention, but he just couldn't find the right door to the man. Everything in his head was scrambled and every turn was a wrong one that sent him spiraling into another memory that had once upon a time been locked away like Fort Knox.

"Hannibal!" Will shouted, sitting upright in bed. Will gasped, limbs burning and tangled in the sheets around him. He scrambled to tear himself free, but it only made the pain grow brighter in his shoulder and cheek. "Hannibal!"

The door to the room opened and the older man stepped in, weak on his feet, hand clutching his side. He strode over to the edge of the bed and both hands gripped either side of Will's face. Will sucked in air greedily, but it did nothing to help.

H-Hannibal," Will stuttered, the only word he could say being the man's name. "Han-Hanni-Han-"

"I'm right here, Will," he assured in a tired voice, though his eyes held concern all the same. "Nothing's going to hurt you. I'm right here." Fingers petted his head. "Go back to sleep."

"No," Will argued, shaking his head. "No." He pushed at Hannibal's grip and Hannibal let Will go. Will scrambled from the ensnaring bedsheets and collapsed to the floor as his knees buckled under his weight. Hannibal helped him back up and into the bed without so much as an annoyed huff at Will's incompetence. "Where are we? Where's Jack? What-"

"Will," Hannibal said a little more sternly. "I'm going to sedate you again if you continue to freak out every time you wake up."

Will's mouth shut as phantom images of needles and surgical equipment swam into view. He shuttered. "We're alive," he whispered and met those amber eyes. Hannibal gave a small nod. "How are we alive?"

"Later, Will. You need rest." Hannibal lowered his head into his hand and rubbed at his eyes. "We both need rest."

"You aren't upset with me?"

"Upset?" Hannibal echoed incredulously, though he didn't look up. "I am furious Will, but not tonight. I can't fight again tonight." Hannibal shook his head with a sigh. "I'm not strong enough to do this again tonight."

"Again..." Will whispered, tasting the word on his lips. "What do you mean again?"

"You have amnesia," Hannibal explained, finally looking up. "You keep waking up back at the cliff and I-I don't know how much more I can do this. I can't keep waking up to your hands around my throat or a knife ready to be plunged into my chest. I'm not strong enough for that right now."

Will was silent for a moment as he tried to fit the explanation somewhere in his memory, but found that he came up empty. He couldn't remember touching Hannibal in such a way. Just clinging to the man as blood kept their bodies suspended in a warm chill.

"How long has it been?" Will questioned, unsure what else to say. What was he supposed to say to that? Especially since it seemed like they had had this conversation a multitude of times. That felt right to Will. They had done this before. Over and over again, even if Will couldn't remember.

"A week or two, I think. The first few days are blurry. I haven't bothered much with the date."

Will gave a small nod and he looked out of the window and up to a fuzzy looking lighthouse. It was beautiful in a haunted sort of way. Run down and chipping so that the spiral around her tall column was broken up in places. Rain pattered against the window, thunder rumbling just off the coast, promising a night of fantastical lightning.

"You didn't kill me," Will pointed out in a whisper, the fact hanging heavily in the air.

"I didn't kill you," Hannibal answered softly.

"You could have left me behind."

"I could never leave you behind."

"You were beautiful, Hannibal," Will said, calling bloody eyes to his face. Will slowly reached out, a hand taking the killer's, blood from the Great Red Dragon coating their hands in a slick heat. It dripped to the floor slowly like molasses. "You've always been beautiful."

"Will, go back to sleep." There was a hurt note in Hannibal's voice as he pulled his hand free from Will's and Will's heart stopped as the blood vanished, having never truly been there at all. "You're letting the drugs talk for you."

"I love you Hannibal." The words were swift and a slur and Hannibal stared at the empath with wide eyes. "I hope that you know that."

"Please," Hannibal begged, entire countenance broken. "Don't do this again."

"I shoved us from the cliff because I couldn't let us live," Will explained, fingers tangling into the sheets that he had been so desperately trying to rip from earlier. He couldn't find it in himself to address the fact that this had also been a previous conversation. How many times had they had this same exchange of words? "Something as dangerous and as beautiful as us can't live. We would bathe the world in blood if we continue on the way we are."

"The way we are?" Hannibal asked.

Will nodded and licked at his lips. "I'm my own Becoming Hannibal," Will answered, eyes once more going to the dreamy lighthouse outside the window. Thunder rumbled and shook the windows before a bright light lit up the world around them like a beacon from heaven before it withered into darkness once more. "I would kill with you again if it always felt like that and that's..." Will trailed off, searching for the right words. "That would go against everything I have always stood for on all levels. I can't do that with you. It's not possible."

"Will-"

"That doesn't change how much I love you," Will pushed on, hand once more reaching out to take Hannibal's. "How much I've always loved you. I was too much of a coward to realize it until we hit that water though."

"Will-"

"Please tell me that the feeling is mutual!" Will pleaded, pushing himself up and onto his knees so he could be closer to the cannibal despite the deep ache in them. "I can feel it on you, but please put it into words. Please."

Hannibal shook his head and pushed himself from the bed, a hand reaching out to carefully guide Will back into the mattress. "Now is not the time for this," Hannibal scolded. "You need rest."

"There will never be a good time for this, Hannibal," Will shot back, fighting against the hold on his good shoulder. "If what you said is true, then this might be the only time we have."

"There's always more time," Hannibal whispered in pain, pressure once more added to Will's shoulder, but the investigator didn't so much as budge.

"Hannibal," Will whispered, hand reaching out to take the man's cheek. Ruby red eyes flickered to meet his and Will sighed with a frown at how desperate Hannibal's eyes were. Pleading that he would just let the conversation drop, just let everything go so that Hannibal didn't have to live through it one more time. "What's the usual outcome of this conversation?"

"A weapon in your hand until you relapse and I have to put you under again to keep you calm," Hannibal explained, letting his hold on Will's shoulder drop, though he didn't pull from the hand on his cheek. In fact, Will was certain that the man leaned into it with a relieved sort of sigh.

"And the unusual?"

Hannibal stiffened at that and this time did try to move out of Will's grasp, but Will's other hand shot out, snatching up the man's knit sweater. Will groaned at the pain in his shoulder, but he pushed it aside with clenched teeth, keeping his eyes firm on Hannibal.

"You ask me to stay the night with you."

"And do you?"

"Sometimes," Hannibal admitted guiltily and Will shook his head at the idea of Hannibal feeling guilty. When had the man ever been guilty? Guilt wasn't a feeling that Will thought the man could possess, but there it was, rolling off of him in waves that made Will dizzy. "You never remember in the morning."

Will licked his lips with an apologetic expression that he hoped Hannibal understood. "Stay with me tonight."

Hannibal inhaled sharply and shook his head, once more attempting to pull from Will's grip. Will held strong. "Don't play games like this with me, cunning boy. You won't enjoy the outcome," Hannibal warned through his teeth, the jab more to protect himself.

"Not a game Hannibal. Not tonight. No games," Will whispered, pulling on Hannibal's sweater now with both hands. Hannibal stood still for a moment before his body caved and he let Will drag him forward. "I'm tired of fighting this," Will continued on as he leaned back, pulling Hannibal along with him until Hannibal was over the top of him, hands and knees on either side of Will's body. "I just want you to understand."

"I understand," Hannibal assured, eyes flickering over Will's face.

"You're the only one who has ever seen me." Will pulled once more on Hannibal's sweater and Hannibal gave a confused look. "What else do we do when the unusual happens?"

"Nothing," Hannibal said, head bowing to not have to meet Will's gaze anymore. "You sleep in my arms and I stay awake, watching you, waiting for your mind to snap again."

"Do you ever keep me awake?"

Hannibal licked his lips with a nod. "It does nothing. You only last a few hours before everything resets again."

Will frowned and tugged again at Hannibal's sweater until Hannibal's forehead was pressed into his own. Will closed his eyes and inhaled deeply of the old books and wine on Hannibal's skin. His hands slowly released their grip in the knit fabric and he held his breath, waiting for Hannibal to take the opportunity to run, but when the monster didn't, Will slid his arms around Hannibal's shoulders, fingers tangling in Hannibal's shorter hair.

"What's the longest I've stayed with you?"

Hannibal tensed once more, but Will kept his hold tight, not allowing the man the chance to escape. Not now. Not anymore. No more running, no more hiding, no more fighting. They would fix this, together. They would make this work. No more death, no more blood, just them.

"Two days at most," was the reply and Will sighed deeply.

"I'm sorry, Hannibal. I can't imagine how hard this is for you." Will's fingers carded through silky locks of silver. "You don't have to stay with me in the morning. You can leave. I don't want to deny you your life or your freedom."

There was a cracked noise from the back of Hannibal's throat and Will opened his eyes at something wet and warm against his cheek. He pushed Hannibal back, shocked to find tears on the man's cheeks.

Hannibal Lecter didn't cry. Hannibal Lecter was a masked monster who terrified God. Hannibal Lecter... Was a completely broken human. A shattered man that Will continued to smash with a hammer. Hannibal Lecter was a beautiful cacophony of the unknown and the macabre and Will had never been so hopelessly lost in another human being before in his life and he never wanted to fight and find another. There would never be another Hannibal Lecter.

"Hannibal?" Will asked.

"Yes, Will?" the man asked, a hand reaching up to wipe at his cheeks before being placed back against the mattress.

"I love you."

"Will," Hannibal begged in a choked voice, shaking his head. "Please, no."

"I need you to understand. I need you to remember that I love you," Will argued, a hand taking Hannibal's cheek to bring the man's attention back to his face. Maroon met blue weakly. "I need you to know that no matter what I do to you, I love you."

"Will-"

"It's because I love you that I hurt you, that I hurt us." Will wasn't sure where the words were coming from, but they made sense. They were the truth, in and out, forwards and backwards, upside down and right side up. "We terrify me, but I don't want to be scared of us right now."

"I really can't do this, Will," Hannibal warned once more, limbs beginning to tremble. Will frowned and turned so that Hannibal's body fell beside his in the bed. Will rolled himself over the top of Hannibal and straddled the elder's hips. Hannibal stared up through the darkness with wide eyes and with another crack of lightning and roll of thunder, Will could see the exhaustion and pain in the man's face. "Please," Hannibal begged, word barely audible. "I can't-"

"Do you love me, Hannibal?" Will asked, leaning over the killer until they were close enough that their breathing mixed. Lips stayed sealed and eyes petitioned for Will's cease and desist. Will wasn't exactly sure how much further he could keep pushing, but the nagging need in the back of his head wouldn't let him stop. Not until he had a certain answer. "Do you love me?" Hannibal shook his head, biting his lips between his teeth but it only made a small smile pull at Will's lips. "Do you love me, Hannibal? I would hate to have the only confirmation of the affirmative be some backhanded comment from Bedelia."

"Bedelia?" Hannibal asked, head tipping to the side. "When did she-"

"She told me that you felt a daily stab of hunger for me, Hannibal." One of Will's hands reached up and caressed over sharp cheekbones. Hannibal stilled under Will, the nervous humming energy under his skin going silent as eyes watched Will suspiciously. "And I told her that I ached for you." Hannibal's jaw went slack for a moment and Will couldn't help the idea that Hannibal's guard being down was endearing. "Is that a term you would understand better than love? Do you hunger for me Hannibal?"

"Every moment of every day," Hannibal answered finally, each word struggling to leave his lips. "But, Will, I don't think-"

"Shh," Will hushed, fingers still tracing over Hannibal's glass cutting features. "Promise that if I don't remember in the morning that you'll move on without me. I don't want to hold you back anymore."

"I can't promise that."

"Promise that you'll put yourself first. Promise that if it comes down to it that you'll pick yourself over me," Will pushed.

"No."

"Then promise me something else?" Will asked softly, forehead resting against Hannibal's as an exhaustion finally began to pull at his weakened body. "Promise to love me the rest of your life?"

"I promise," Hannibal replied thickly. "Please rest now, silly boy. You need it."

"One last question, Hannibal," Will insisted softly, sitting up just enough to fully look over Hannibal again. There was a little huff of air through Hannibal's nose and Will smiled lightly. "On these unusual nights, have we ever...?"

Will found that his actions were enough for both the rest of his question and for the answer. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to Hannibal's, a sigh leaving him before he could hold it back, the feeling of Finally seeping through every pore in his body.

Hannibal went rigid before slowly returning the kiss, hands tangling into Will's t-shirt, desperate in their attempt to pull Will closer. He trembled beneath Will and Will pulled back, breathing hard.

"No," Hannibal gasped out, eyes closed. He licked at his lips and Will watched the movement with a shiver. "Never."

"Can I kiss you again?" Will blurted out before he could hold the words back. He bit his tongue, a flush coming to his cheeks. A grin painted itself over Hannibal's lips as maroon depths opened to drown Will with a light and damning chuckle.

"You can never do anything else ever again."

"You should have slit his throat when you had the chance," Molly pressed, words swirling around Will's head and the only thing that Will could hear. "You could never kill him though, could you? You're weak! A spineless, twitchy little man!"

"Can I do it?" Will asked and Hannibal paused, straight blade razor slowly lowering back to the counter.

"Do you know how to do it?" Hannibal asked with hesitation in his tone. Could he tell? Will had been so careful. There was no way that Hannibal should be able to tell yet. Will still had a good twenty minutes before the effects of the pills he had taken would kick in.

"My dad did teach me to shave, Hannibal," Will said with a laugh, stepping closer to Hannibal. Hannibal watched him carefully, eyes tight on Will's movements, but he slowly surrendered.

"Alright."

Will grinned, a just feeling thumbing through his veins. He hopped up onto the bathroom counter and pulled Hannibal between his legs, kissing Hannibal's head to avoid the shaving cream that was already over Hannibal's cheeks. Hannibal held out the straight razor and Will took it into his hand, his other working on finding a towel. He tossed the fabric over his shoulder and then turned on the sink, testing the water to make sure it was a decent enough temperature before looking over Hannibal carefully.

"You like your sideburns at the bottom of your ear, right?" Will asked, a hand reaching out to tip Hannibal's face to the left. His fingers pulled at the skin to keep it taut and he paused for a moment after a small hum in answer. "I love you," Will whispered, leaning over to press a kiss to Hannibal's temple. "Please remember that."

"Will, I-"

"Quiet, Dr. Lecter," Will interrupted, voice a bit more cheerful. "I need to concentrate. I don't want to nick you." Will angled the blade and slowly dragged it against Hannibal's skin in tiny, smooth strokes. He rinsed and repeated, making sure to keep Hannibal's skin pulled tight as he worked over sharp features. "You're so handsome."

"Will," Hannibal muttered. "You're being uncomfortably sentimental today."

"I can't compliment you?" Will asked curiously as he leaned over to wash off the blade in the sink before returning to Hannibal's face, skin smooth where it was now exposed from the heavy white cream over the rest of his face. Will's hand paused as he reached Hannibal's chin, a numbness coming to his fingers. He tried to push the feeling away and gave Hannibal a tight smile at a concerned look. He just had to hold on a little longer. Just a little longer and all of this would be over. "I didn't think you would be disagreeable to an ego stroke."

Hannibal's head tipped back and Will made sure that his hand was careful as he worked the razor over Hannibal's neck. He could feel the tenseness radiating off the man and noted the way that Hannibal's hands were clutching the counter on either side of Will's thighs for a lifeline.

Only a little longer, Hannibal, Will thought. This will be over and done with in a little while. I would never dream of you being covered in shaving cream on your deathbed. You deserve to look as handsome as the day we met when I finally end you.

Will continued on in silence, stopping every now and then to inspect his work. Once done, he cleaned the blade off in the sink and set it aside, pulling the towel from his shoulder and used it to wipe at the remnant of shaving cream on Hannibal's face.

Will leaned forward and kissed Hannibal the moment the towel was pulled away. His legs kept a tight grip around Hannibal's waist and his hand slipped back along the counter until he found the straight razor. He placed it back in his hand and lifted it up, pressing it to Hannibal's throat.

Hannibal broke the kiss with a small sigh that had a hint of boredom in it, as if this wasn't the first time that Will had played with his emotions to get to the end of whatever was between them.

Hannibal didn't move as Will increased the pressure. Will watched as blood slowly trickled down Hannibal's neck. He hesitated and Hannibal's lips tipped into a smirk.

"Don't stop now, Will. You're beautiful in your judging and sentencing," Hannibal whispered in complete acceptance of the fate that Will had planned for him. "Carry out your sentence, dear boy. Finish what you started."

"I really do love you," Will whispered, tipping his head against Hannibal's, though the blade didn't move. Hannibal pushed closer and Will winced, trying to pull his hand back, take back what he was doing, but Hannibal's hand took his wrist and held the blade flush against his neck. "I-I don't want this anymore, Hannibal. I'm sorry."

"I want to see your design. What did you have planned for us? What were you going to do once I was dead?"

A kiss was pressed to Will's lips and Will sighed into it, doing his best to hold back tears. His heart pounded in his chest painfully and that numbness that had been in his fingertips was spreading. His feet and hands and the tip of his nose were numb now and his head swam. The blade dropped from his hand, clanking as it fell to the ground and he pulled back from the kiss, the need to empty his stomach involuntary.

"I'm gonna be..." Will's arm wrapped around his middle and Hannibal didn't need to be told twice. Hannibal grabbed the small garbage can under the sink and passed it to Will, who snatched it up and emptied his stomach into it. Hannibal's fingers made gentle work of brushing through Will's curl's soothingly, curls that were slowly becoming damp with sweat.

"What did you take, Will?" Hannibal asked calmly, softly.

"Fentanyl," Will gasped out around the way his stomach was trying to empty itself.

"You're not going to like having another tube down your throat, foolish boy," Hannibal scolded lightly. "Let's get you taken care of. You're going to need to rest and you'll be sore after."

"You're going to pump my stomach?"

"I'm not about to let you die, Will."

"You shouldn't have come back, Will," Molly whispered. "You shouldn't have come back after everything."

"I didn't have a choice," Will argued back desperately, body swaying with the pain pulsing through his head. "I couldn't remember."

"Not then. When you went back to help Jack. You shouldn't have come home. Now I'm dead and my son is going to suffer at the hands of this cannibal."

"Hannibal won't hurt him!" Will argued. "He promised to take care of us."

"Like you promised to when you married me, Will?"

Mylimasis: precious

Stiprybės, mano brangiausias: Strength, my dearest.