Losing You Terrifies Me

by A. David

Gentle. That was the word the monster had used. Will would hold onto that word as if it were the only thing in the universe. Because it was gentle. Each skim of lips and trace of tongue, each brush of fingers and dip of hips were nothing but gently maddening, sending Will so far into himself that he thought he would never be found again.

37. Chapter 37

A/N: I actually finished writing the last chapter today, so as of now the chapter count is 47. I hope you guys enjoy!

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It would be a lie if Hannibal said he hadn't been expecting this. He had been steeling himself for the day when Will would ultimately relapse again. Nothing good ever lasted long for Hannibal and he had allowed himself to grow far too comfortable in the ease that had been set.

Hannibal guided Will's zombie-like body back down the stairs and out to the car. Nothing here was important enough to waste time on. Not even that God fucking black notebook was worth any of this. Why had his darling boy picked right then to read it? It should be burned. It always brought Will's mind crashing back down.

Hannibal sighed as he pulled from the driveway and started down the road that was wet from melting snow, the days finally beginning to give way to spring. His fingers drummed the steering wheel as he tried to think of all of his options. He didn't have many. He could stay and start the whole thing over or he could leave and actually commit this time.

Hannibal wasn't stupid. He knew he was the cause of Will's instability. It only got worse the longer they stayed together despite how badly Hannibal tried to keep Will's head intact now more than ever.

The roads were muscle memory now. Long and trailing through fields and cities alike until he found himself pulling up a gravel drive and stopping his car at a fountain. The car was put in park and Hannibal closed his eyes before glancing over to Will who was still clutching to his head, jaw clenched tight.

"Will?" Hannibal asked softly, heart cracking in his chest as he waited for the answer from the boy.

"All of it's there, Hannibal," Will whispered, blue eyes full of tears darting up from their blank stare to meet Hannibal's. "It hurts, Hannibal. All of it hurts."

Hannibal leaned over, a hand brushing through Will's curls the best he could with Will's impeding hands in the way. "You're doing far better now than you usually do," Hannibal whispered. "Please, please don't give up on us. Please."

"The-The straight razor and the stairs and-and the-"

"I know," Hannibal assured softly, his throat tight as he gave a weak and pitiable smile. He pressed a careful kiss to Will's temple and sighed, closing his eyes. "It's alright, Will. It's always been alright."

There was a pained laugh torn from Will's throat and tears fell down his cheeks. "I-I have so many conflicting emotions going on right now and I don't know if they're mine or yours." The back of Will's hand wiped at his mouth as drool wetted his lips. "I love you so much Hannibal, but I just-I want-" Will's voice broke. "-I want us dead." Will's hand covered his mouth and he slouched out of Hannibal's grip. "We can't... We-we-"

"Will," Hannibal said sternly, though his voice cracked. Hannibal cleared his throat. "Not right now. Please." Hannibal took one of Will's hands and brought it to his lips, kissing at Will's knuckles and then over the ring on his finger. "Can we please get our son and go? That's all I want. Just like we planned."

"After all of the-" Will cleared his throat, eyes once more looking out of the windshield as he pulled his hand from Hannibal's grip. "After all of the things that I've done to you-to-to us and you still want to run away with me?"

"Always." Hannibal's eyes wandered carefully over the empath who sat devastated in his seat and Hannibal didn't feel far off. They had been so close. Why had he let Will go back to that house? Why had he let Will beg to grab their things? Their stupid book and fishing lures and some things of Walter's? Because he loved Will, that was why. "Will?" he asked, mouth sticky. Will shook his head, his index finger being bitten between his teeth. "Look at me Will." Blue eyes obeyed, hurt and bloodshot, breath ragged. "Promise me something, alright?"

Will straightened up in his seat and Hannibal took that to mean that Will was openly considering what Hannibal was about to ask of him, despite the battling emotions that raged war across his features. Hannibal reached out and brushed at a tear stained cheek with a deep breath.

"Give us tonight. We'll stay here. You think things over, try to hold on for me. If, by morning, you still feel this way then we'll end it."

"That sounds very Romeo and Juliet, Dr. Lecter," Will tried to tease, but it came out choked and weak. Hannibal gave a teary chuckle all the same. "I didn't think you were a fan of that story."

"I would much rather compare us to something like Symphonie Fantastique."

"I'm afraid I'm not familiar."

"Through its movements, it tells the story of an artist's self-destructive passion for a beautiful woman. The symphony describes his obsession and dreams, tantrums and moments of tenderness, and visions of suicide and murder, ecstasy and despair."

"I will regret never having heard such a thing," Will teased before he winced, his hand once more going to his head. His eyes snapped shut and he groaned.

Hannibal sighed and once more caressed a hand over Will's curls. "Do you promise to give me tonight?"

"I promise Hannibal," Will assured. "I'll stay my hand tonight."

"Thank you darling boy. This will be the last time, I promise." Hannibal pulled the keys from the ignition and glanced back up at the large house and thought over exactly what he had just promised himself to. "Let's get you into bed and have you rest. I'll make sure you have some good medicine to help with your migraine."

"No medicine, Hannibal," Will argued, a little breathless as he leaned forward, head in his hands. "I don't want to be foggy anymore."

"Will, I-"

"Hannibal." Will sighed and looked up once more, tears still spilling from his devastatingly blue eyes. "For the first time in nearly half a year my head isn't some jumbled mess with missing parts. Please let me have this. Let me sit in this. I need to do this without drugs or alcohol or anything else. Please."

Hannibal gave a single nod, unsure he could make any sound come from his mouth at the moment as he looked over his cunning husband. His beautiful tear stained husband who was wearing the same suit he had been wearing yesterday when they had promised each other until death and Hannibal's chest grew tight at the idea that death would be coming far sooner than he thought it ever would.

Will removed himself from the car, a hand taking the hood to keep himself upright and Hannibal slowly followed, catching Will as Will stumbled up the gravel driveway. He straightened Will upright and kept a firm grip around the man's waist as they shakily made their way to the door.

"Dad!" an excited voice said as the door was flung open. There was a stiffness in Will's stance as the child raced forward and hugged him. Will caressed the boy's head and sighed before slowly lowering himself to his knees. He pushed Walter back and looked over his son's sunny face. His hair was a mess, looking like it had yet to be combed and his freckles splattered over his nose in a familiar pattern that Will found comfort in at the moment. The boy's smile dropped and concern filled his light brown eyes. "Dad, are you alright?"

Will tried to give his son a smile, but he was certain that it didn't work quite as well as he hoped it would. "I have a bit of a headache," Will replied in a barely whispered voice. "I just need some rest is all. I'll be fine after."

"Ok," Walter accepted, though his tone held uncertainty in it. His eyes left Will and Hannibal met the gaze that was cast on him from the child. Hannibal wasn't honestly sure what to do or say to the kid after their last contact had ended on a rather unfortunate note. "Kaip aš tave vadinu?" (What do I call you?) Walter asked in Hannibal's mother tongue and Hannibal tipped his head to the side, still trapped in the oddness of the child. "Tėtis? Tėvas? Pone?" (Dad? Father? Sir?) Hannibal inhaled deeply as he considered the words, having not put much thought into them in the recent past, or in any part of his past really. "Hanni?"

Hannibal frowned at the name, disliking the way it fell from the child's tongue. The only reason that Morgan got away with the name was due to his age, Walter wouldn't be allowed the same courtesy. Walter needed to learn a decent amount of respect if they were going to make this work and it would be like trying to snap a femur, but the child would learn.

"Wally," Will scolded, though the look on his face told Hannibal that Will didn't have a clue as to the words that Walter had put into the world between them, though he was certain that Will had grasped the concept from the curtly said nickname and Hannibal's reaction that turned Walter's face smug. "You know better."

"That's quite alright, Will," Hannibal assured with a small exhale, hand reaching down to card through Will's curls. "Hannibal or Sir is fine for the time being."

"Tu niekada nebūsi mano tėvas." (You will never be my father.) The child's voice was fakely cheerful and the smile on his face was nowhere near to deserving in its faux warmth. "Jūs taip pat nesate pakankamai tinkamas pakaitalas mano mamai." (You're also not a good enough substitute for my mom.)

"I would never dream of taking Molly's place, Walter," Hannibal assured, using English purposefully so that Will would understand better. There was no reason to hide the contentment between the two of them. It was just something that they would have to work through and Hannibal was more than aware that it would be worked through for Will's sake. Walter and he did have that in common. They both would do anything for Will.

"Wally," Will whispered, a hand caressing the boy's cheek. "No one is going to replace your mother."

Walter didn't say anything, bright eyes glancing between Will and Hannibal for a moment more. "Maybe you should take a nap, dad. You look really sick."

Hannibal watched a weak smile come to Will's lips and he huffed out a breath of laughter with a nod. "Maybe you're right. What do you think, Dr. Lecter? Is our-" there was a sharp correction from Will, "-My son right?"

"Astute as ever," Hannibal answered, voice level and calm as those brown eyes once more met him. "We'll rest for today and be on our way tomorrow."

Walter glanced back at the house behind him with a small disappointed sigh. Hannibal followed the gaze, eyes stopping at a young Morgan hidden halfway behind the still open front door. At catching Hannibal's gaze the young boy hid further behind the door with a small smile and giggle.

"Hello Morgan," Hannibal greeted with a bow of his head. "I promise we don't bite. Come on out."

"Melagis," Walter grumbled. (Liar.)

Hannibal let the comment slide and watched as Morgan bounded from behind the door and landed next to Walter with a bright smile. "Hi, Hanni!" he said happily. "Hi, Will."

"Good morning, Morgan," Will answered softly with a gentle grin.

"You get to stay another night, Wally!" Morgan said excitedly, bouncing on his feet beside Walter. Will gave a small smile at Walter's frayed sigh. "That means you can show me-"

"Morgan," Hannibal interrupted kindly, calling Walter's eyes to Hannibal. "How about you and I make something in the kitchen and let the two of them talk for a bit?"

Morgan's smile dipped slightly and he looked to Walter as if asking permission. Walter rolled his eyes and gave a nod and Morgan grinned, stepping closer and snatching up Hannibal's hand, tugging on it. Hannibal followed along, stopping when Morgan turned back to him, looking over the ring on his finger with a new bright smile.

"Will remembered?" Morgan asked, voice bubbly.

"Yes, Morgan," Will replied with a small nod and a wince. "I remembered."

"Are you Wally's dad now, Hanni?" Morgan pressed on. There was a low growl from Walter and Will sighed, ruffling the child's dark hair. Morgan glanced between the three silent people and there must have been some level of understanding because the boy just nodded and tugged on Hannibal's hand again. "Can we make chocolate pudding?"

"Certainly," Hannibal answered, letting himself be pulled into the house.

Will waited for them to leave before he let out a deep breath, head pounding away. He pushed himself back to his feet, something swirling dangerously in his gut and causing a wave of nausea to envelope him. He couldn't tell that he had stumbled over until his son's hands were pressed against his torso to keep him upright.

"Dad?" Walter asked in concern, staggering under Will's weight. "You're not ok."

"I really just need rest, Wally," Will assured despite the way the world spun around him and the way his throat closed up around the bile that was threatening to force its way from his stomach.

"Let me get Hannibal. He'll-"

"I'm alright," Will pressed, giving Walter a kind smile. "Just let me sleep for a few hours."

"Hannibal!" Walter shouted through the open doorway.

Will couldn't quite place what was happening until he was being lowered into the plushness of a mattress. His skin was on fire, pins and needles with every touch. His restrictive clothing was pulled from his body before a simple sheet was placed over the top of him. Will's eyes squeezed shut and his jaw ached with how hard he clenched his teeth as his fingers dug into his hair, trying to keep his skull from splitting in half. He was a prisoner, caged in his own pain.

A lightning hot touch snatched up his arm and Will tried to pull free until long and artistic fingers found a certain pressure point in his wrist that made Will gasp out in relief, tears rolling down his cheek.

"Would you please take some medicine, mylimas?" a soft, accented voice asked through the break in the storm. Each breath was no longer hot. A coldness was sinking into Will's lungs and he no longer felt smothered. "Please let me help-"

"N-No," Will stuttered out, shaking his head. He forced his eyes open and glanced around the dim and blurry room. His head was pressed against a heartbeat and there were worried eyes on him. More than one pair of worried eyes.

"Come along boys," Margot's voice instructed.

"But dad-"

"Let your dad rest," Alana's voice interrupted Walter and Will frowned.

"He can stay," Will said, sitting up from where he was curled into Hannibal's chest.

"Will-"

"I want him to stay," Will cut into Hannibal's sentence, something desperate in his voice. Walter's bright brown eyes were surprised as he looked up at his dad and he gave a small nod in understanding.

"He can stay if you promise to rest," Hannibal bargained, his free arm reaching up to wrap around Will's shoulder to tug the empath back against him. Will couldn't fight. His body wasn't his. Not at the moment. It was slave to a migraine that was beating down the door that Hannibal had carefully sealed up with a grip that was slowly making Will's fingers tingle. "If you're not going to take medicine, you need to rest."

"Will?" Morgan asked, pulling from Margot's grip on his shoulder and racing to the bedside, hands clutching the sheets. "Would you like some of the chocolate pudding Hanni and I made? Mother said that it made her feel better after a hard day working. Maybe it will make you feel better too?"

Will smiled from where he hid himself in his husband's soft knit sweater. His mind was a jumbled mess. Fucking hell, he couldn't think straight. Would he ever be able to think straight again? "I would like that very much, Morgan," Will answered softly, causing Alana to frown but Margot to smile. "Would you get me a giant bowl?"

"Yes!" he answered excitedly, letting go of the sheets and racing over to Margot who led him from the room.

"Why don't you go help?" Alana asked towards Walter who still looked surprised from Will's words.

"Stop trying to dismiss my son, Alana," Will grumbled, letting his eyes fall closed as he listened to Hannibal's steady heartbeats. "If I didn't want him here I would have him leave."

Alana gave an offended look, mouth opening and closing several times before she sighed. "You need your rest, Will. I-"

"I think Will has been more than clear, Alana," Hannibal cut in, letting his free fingers brush through Will's hair. Will sighed into the touch and Hannibal pressed a kiss to Will's head. The man was far more relaxed now, no longer curled up in a whimpering and shaking ball. No longer begging for death in a voice so loud it had scared the children. "I would appreciate it if you could give us a moment. Alana, would be so kind?"

Will opened his eyes to see what type of expression covered the woman's face. Something akin to anger was there for a short moment before a short huff of air through her nose and a firm nod gave way to something blank before she turned away from the bed. Walter looked after her and waited for the door to close before he turned to Hannibal with a curious look.

"I've been trying to get her to leave me alone for weeks. How did you do that?" the boy asked in shock, stepping closer to the bed.

"She's afraid of me," Hannibal replied simply, looking like he was going to say more, but stopped as Will's hand fisted itself into Hannibal's sweater.

"Hannibal," Will groaned against Hannibal's chest with a small shake of his head. "Please. Not around him."

"Forgive me," Hannibal muttered, resting his cheek against Will's curls. His eyes wandered over to Walter who had once more crept closer to the bed in curiosity.

"What are you doing to him?" Walter's head tipped to a slightly better angle to look over the way that Hannibal's hand was holding Will's wrist, thumb pressed tightly into Will's forearm.

"There's a pressure point in your wrist that helps with migraines and headaches," Hannibal explained softly. "The effect is almost instant, but it only lasts as long as you hold to the pressure point."

"That's weird," Walter muttered, finally sitting on the edge of the bed. "How do you do it?"

"Are you alright if he tries, love?" Hannibal asked softly and Will inhaled deeply with a nod, sitting up a little more. They shifted positions until Walter was on the other side of Will and Hannibal released his grip on Will's wrist. Will hissed in a sharp breath and his head fell back against the headboard. Hannibal guided Walter's hands to where they needed to be. "Add pressure right there. Hold tight."

Walter's eyes flickered up at a small gasp from Will, afraid that he had hurt his dad, but at a tired smile and a ruffling of his hair, Walter relaxed. Will's head tipped back against Hannibal and Walter glanced between the two of them, trying to take in the way that the collected killer from dinner a few weeks before was a kind and affectionate man who was taking care of his dad.

Gentle caresses and kisses. Whispered words that Walter couldn't exactly hear. Words he wasn't sure he wanted to hear.

"Dad, can you cut the shit and tell me what's wrong?" Walter grumbled, calling both pairs of eyes to him.

"Language," Hannibal scolded and Walter's mouth dropped open in disbelief. He knew he was meant to obey. He knew that if he didn't he was as good as dead, but he just couldn't seem to come to his senses enough to do just that.

"Dad," Walter grumbled. "You aren't actually serious, are you? I don't have to listen to-"

"You shouldn't be swearing," Will cut in with a smile. "Not at your age, damn it."

Walter grinned, eyes immediately going to a hard frown on Hannibal's features. "Try to clean it up, Wally. It's unsightly." Walter gave a small nod, eyes firm on Hannibal's face.

"I really just have a migraine."

"Fucking bullshit," Walter argued, the words coming from his mouth before he could stop them. "What is wrong with you? I've seen you with migraines. This isn't just a migraine."

"Will, if we can no longer lie to each other, please do not lie to the child," Hannibal instructed softly, pressing a kiss to Will's head and Walter frowned at the action. It would take some getting used to. Not some. A lot. A lot of getting used to. But if Will was happy then Walter could be happy. "When your dad remembers things he often suffers from migraines."

"So you remembered then?" Walter asked in a kinder tone. "You remembered all of it?"

Will gave a light smile. "All of it."

"And..." Walter trailed off, looking down at where his hands were still holding Will's wrist, an ache in his thumb from holding the position for so long. Will and Hannibal both waited patiently. "Did..." Walter licked at his lips and tipped his head side to side. "Did you kill that man? The one on the cliff?"

"They found the body?" Hannibal asked softly, glancing down at Will.

"Tattle-Crime says that it was you," Walter pressed on, not meeting his parents' gazes. "But there hasn't been mention of a warrant and anything for your arrest. At least, not in the news. They said your blood was all over the place though." Walter gave a weak laugh and finally glanced up from beneath his eye lashes. "You did it, didn't you? Both of you?"

"Would it help your opinion of me if I told you it was self-defense?" Will asked curiously, fear swirling through him. This was going to be the turning point. This was going to be where he lost Walter if he hadn't already. Will was quite shocked that Walter was near him at all, keeping in physical closeness with what Will had just said. "Because I'm not going to lie to you and tell you I didn't do it."

"Alright," Walter says after a moment of silence. He inhaled deeply with a small nod, eyes looking carefully over Will before they flickered back over to Hannibal. "Self-defense?"

"Yes," Hannibal agreed.

"Alright," Walter repeated, leaning back on the bed to lay beside Will. He curled into Will's arm and Will sighed, reaching out and gently carding his fingers through his son's hair. "Do you remember what I told you at the hospital that night Mom and I ran from him?"

Will's eyes closed and he sighed with a shake of his head, looking as if to be on the edge of sleep. "Help me, son," he instructed in a gentle tone, fingers coming to a stop in Walter's hair and slowly lowering to the bedside. Will adjusted himself slightly against Hannibal and exhaled deeply.

"I told you that because he wasn't going to stop that you should kill him," Walter answered, once more catching Hannibal's attention.

"Is that so?" Hannibal asked curiously, eyes Walter carefully.

"I did," Walter answered softly, light brown eyes flickering over Hannibal hesitantly.

"May I ask why?"

Walter was silent for a moment, eyes moving back over to Will to take in the man whose breathing had leveled out. "To protect our family," Walter finally answered, receiving a slight smile from Will and an interested glint in Hannibal's oddly colored eyes.

"It would have been enough to have him arrested," Hannibal offered, words picked ever so perfectly, ready to dig through this child's mind more fully than he had been able to. "He would never have been free."

"Neither would you, Sir," the small boy pointed out, a hint of dislike in his tone. "Yet, here you are, married to my dad."

"I am not like the rest Walter."

Walter nodded his head in agreement, his words slow as he thought over them, his own sentences picked just as carefully as Hannibal's were. "No. You cover your tracks better than the rest, but only because you enjoy confusing people." Hannibal gave a light grin at the observation. "In the end you let my dad know you."

"Yes, Walter."

"Walter," Will warned, voice barely more than a whisper, his brows furrowed. "Please."

"I'm not going to lie either, dad," Walter grumbled, eyes sharp as they met Hannibal's head on, reminding Hannibal so much of Will. Something strong and powerful. Hot with strength. Cinnamon if Hannibal had to put a name to it. "I don't like him and I know he doesn't like me."

"Don't I?"

"Do you?" Walter challenged back.

Hannibal thought over the question for a moment, a hand reaching up to card through Will's curls to help relax the stiffness that had once more taken over the man's body. "Hush, my love," Hannibal instructed softly in Will's ear. "Atsipalaiduok. Tu esi saugus." (Relax. You are safe.) Walter nearly snorted at the words with a roll of his eyes, but he held it back. "I'm afraid that I am still learning about you, Walter. Though in our time together you have demonstrated a high level of intelligence that I admire. Other than our harshness rather than an openness during our first meeting, I have found you likeable."

"I can be very likeable," Walter shot back, a bit of bite in his tone.

"So Morgan has told me," Hannibal said with a kind nod and a small chuckle. "Do you trust him? He has a rather high opinion of you."

"He's a child," Walter grumbled, a frown over taking his facial expression. "He has a high opinion of you as well, I doubt he's a good judge of character."

"However have you managed?"

"I tolerated him," Walter answered, doing his best to ignore the teasing that was in Hannibal's voice. "I mean, this is his house. His family has been kind to me. The least I can do is behave. I don't have means much elsewhere."

"For being someone who wants to be undeniably rude, you know how to keep yourself composed," Hannibal said with a smile he couldn't hold back.

"Aren't we all?" Walter mused.

"Not with the full comprehension of our conversation that you are showing me," Hannibal replied easily, glancing down at his husband whose hair Hannibal was still playing with. "You have quite an extraordinary child here, Will."

"He is quite remarkable," Will agreed in a whisper.

"He has potential if he wishes to seize it," Hannibal pressed on and Walter frowned at how the conversion had moved on without him as if he weren't in the room. "With proper training, schooling and etiquette the boy-"

"I'm not a dog," Walter blurted out, voice louder than he meant it. That smile. That damn smile that Hannibal gave him. Something so smug, something telling Walter that his reaction was exactly the one that Hannibal had been trying to get from him through this whole conversation. Something excited rather than controlled to only prove his point further.

"Hanni?" a small voice said from the door, a head poking out of it. He stepped a little further into the room, a bowl in hand. Walter looked over the boy curiously before glancing over to Hannibal and back to Morgan as Morgan approached the bed.

"Yes dear?" Hannibal asked back, a gentleness in his voice that Walter had only heard the man use with his own dad. So Hannibal liked Morgan more than Walter? What kind of shit was that? What the hell could Walter possibly do to get on Hannibal's good side? He had tried being good when they had first met. Had obeyed Hannibal right down to the letter, held intellectual conversations with the man, spoken in the man's natural language and nothing had given him a leg up. Nothing had endeared him. Not like the annoying little brat who somehow captured everyone's hearts while Walter simply turned them to stone. "What is it?"

"I brought Will the pudding," Morgan answered back, holding out the bowl and spoon towards the bed.

"Thank you Morgan," Will muttered with a smile as he opened his eyes and pushed himself into an upright position, taking the outheld bowl with his free hand that wasn't trapped up in Walter's still careful grip despite the way it was causing Walter's finger's to burn. "I feel better already."

"Oh, good," the boy said with a bright smile, hands clasping behind his back as he rocked on his feet. His attention quickly turned to Walter who frowned at what he knew was coming. "Wally, come play with me please?" And there was Morgan being himself as ever.

"No," Walter answered, a bit more harshness to his tone than he had meant it, some of his leftover anger from Hannibal bleeding into his words. He cleared his throat and shook his head at the sad look that took over Morgan's young features. "Uh, sorry," Walter quickly added. "I-I want to spend time with my dad right now. Later?"

"But Wally, you promised that we'd-"

"Later. I promise I will teach you how to play poker after dinner," Walter tried once more with a grimace. "Please let me spend time with my dad."

Morgan gave an overly dramatic sigh and turned his attention to Hannibal, his second favorite person in the room, voice down. "Pouvez-vous me lire une histoire?" (Can you read me a story?)

Walter gave a confused look at the switch in language and he had to assume that it was somehow to get back at him for shutting the boy down so quickly. Will looked just as lost as Walter felt.

"Je suis sûr que ta mère pourrait mieux le lire," (I'm sure your mother could read it better,) Hannibal answered back flawlessly, though there was confusion in his voice.

"Je préfère ton accent." (I prefer your accent.)

"I will be right back," Hannibal muttered, leaning over to press a kiss to Will's head. "Walter, if your hand starts to cramp, please relax it. Will can handle several minutes without the pressure point." Hannibal shifted himself from under Will and got to his feet, motioning for the small child to leave the room. Morgan's face brightened up instantly and he raced towards the door as Hannibal took his time straightening his sweater.

"Wait..." Walter called when Hannibal took a few steps away from the bed. The killer slowly turned back, silent as his eyes regarded Walter. "Kodel su Morgan kalbi prancuziskai?" (Why do you speak French with Morgan?)

Hannibal glanced back to the door that Morgan had rushed through before turning back to Walter and offering an answer in English and Walter had the sneaking suspicion that it was to spite Walter.

"If I had to guess, maybe because he wants to let you know he is smart too."

Hannibal left the room and Walter settled back into Will's side, something bitter in his mouth as he chewed on his tongue. Why did Walter need to gain or offer approval to some annoying kid that he disliked almost as much as he disliked Hannibal? Some four year old brat that was having far too much fun playing prince in his castle was not about to impress Walter just because the kid knew how to speak other languages.

"Wally," Will whispered as he placed the untouched bowl of pudding aside. Will rested against the headboard and Walter shuffled closer to the one thing that was familiar in his life, despite the truth that had come out between them. This man was all that Walter had left now of his previous life and he would cling to it with all of his being.

"Yes dad?" Walter asked back, leaning his head against Will's shoulder.

"Can you please give Hannibal a chance?"

"I don't like him." The words were blunt and sharp, but there was no point in lying. There was no point in trying to hide and pretend that everything between the three of them was going to be ok when it absolutely wasn't going to be. Hannibal and Walter would always butt heads. Neither approved of the other, neither wanted the other near Will. It would always be a war between them and Walter wasn't going to lose it. He could be just as stubborn as Hannibal was and he could prove it. He would prove it. Maybe then it would endear him to the man enough to not feel like some old forgotten left sock that had fallen between the washer and dryer.

"Why?"

The question was a simple one, but the weight that it held made Walter's mouth go dry with the irrational answer that swam to the forefront of his head. An answer that was based fully in his own inadequate confidence rather than in any sort of fact.

"You love him more than me."

"That's not true," Will objected, blue eyes sharp even under the cloudiness that still plagued them. "It's... different." Will sighed deeply. "The love between Hannibal and I is a different thing than what is between us. I will always love you, Wally. You're my son. You will always come first."

"It doesn't feel that way," Walter grumbled, fingers starting to twitch with the effort he was putting into them to keep a hold of Will's pressure point, Will's only saving grace. "What about him is so special?" Will licked his lips and Walter rolled his eyes. He knew what it meant when Will's nose scrunched up before he was about to speak. He was going to dumb down everything for Walter to understand and it only made Walter's blood boil. "I'm not a kid, dad. Fucking tell me."

There was disapproval in those blue depths, but Will obliged. "When I am with him, I can be more myself than I ever have been."

"A killer."

Will winced. "No." Will shook his head. "No. A better version of me. He has that ability with people. I'm pretty sure you will experience that too. Hannibal can reflect the best of yourself, not the worst." Will reached out a hand and ruffled up Walter's hair. "Wally, we could be a family if you would only let us be. And he's not going to change things between us. We can still go fishing and camping. We can still watch the game and play catch in the yard."

"You'll still burn the bacon and make crunchy eggs?" Walter asked back.

Will laughed and his hand pushed gently at Walter's head, causing the boy to smile. "If that's truly what you want for breakfast, though I promise you that food will be far superior coming from Hannibal than it ever would be coming from me." Walter's heart tore a bit at the smile over his dad's lips. The same sort of smile that Will had when he had first met his mom. A smile that had quickly vanished when the fighting had started. A smile that Walter wished was still for his mom and not for that man who had stolen Will away. "He will be good to you. I promise. And I want us to be a family. A proper family."

"I would do anything for you dad," Walter whispered.

"I know," Will assured with a nod. "I just want you to do it for you."

"Hannibal is not my mom."

Will's nod turned thoughtful and that smile fell a fraction. "I can assure you, Wally, he will never be anyone but Hannibal Lecter."

"Dad? Can I keep your last name?" Walter questioned, quickly adding, "Only your last name?"

The answer was just as swift and just as comforting. "Of course." Will pulled Walter closer and placed a kiss to the boy's head. "You are mine and only mine until you want something different. If the day comes that you want to take Hannibal's name, you can. If the day comes that you want to be adopted by Hannibal, we can also arrange that." Walter shook his head and stuck out his tongue in dislike, causing Will to chuckle once more. "Only if you want, Wally."

"Thank you dad."

---

Kaip aš tave vadinu? Tėtis? Tėve? Pone?: What do I call you? Dad? Father? Sir?

Tu niekada nebūsi mano tėvas. Jūs taip pat nesate pakankamai tinkamas pakaitalas mano mamai.: You will never be my father. You're also not a good enough substitute for my mom.

Melagis: Liar

mylimas: precious

Atsipalaiduok. Tu esi saugus: Relax. You are safe

Pouvez-vous me lire une histoire?: Can you read me a story

Je suis sûr que ta mère pourrait mieux le lire: I'm sure your mother could read it better

Je préfère ton accent: I prefer your accent

Kodel su Morgan kalbi prancuziskai?: Why do you speak French with Morgan?