Hannibal felt like the emptiness had finally reached his chest. The very last time he ever felt like this was when he was eight years old. The day he learned that he would never see his sister again. It became easier when he realized that although she was dead, she would always be with him.

In the same way that Will would always be with Hannibal, even if they were apart. Would feel Hannibal. Will knew him intimately enough. They were one and had been for so long that Hannibal was certain that, even if Will didn't remember him, Will would still know the exact moment when Hannibal died.

I will follow you. Will had promised and Will kept his promises. The idea was slightly terrifying in a way. How had Hannibal tied them up so tightly together even after everything he had done? After every horrid thing they had done or said to one another? It was exhausting.

And Hannibal was simply just that. Tired. So incredibly worn down, the markings around his neck only being one such indicator. Will had been his stability, his rest and recharge and now with Will out of the picture, and Hannibal was determined to keep him out of the picture, he had the overwhelming need to return to his beginning. To restart where everything had started, whatever that restart was.

Mano mergina, aš noriu grįžti namo. (Little one, I want to go home)

This trip home would be the last. It would be the last time he would have enough strength to face that place again. One last time to see his sister and apologize for everything he had done before finally joining them. It was only fair. Only right. Poetic in every sense of the word. Fitting that he should end right where the rest of them had.

He couldn't leave just yet though. He couldn't abandon Will in such a way. Not his precious Will, a swirling pitfall of light and dark that were forever battling for control. Will deserved a better goodbye than a book to the head. Deserved some explanation as to why he had left, Walter only being one piece of the puzzle.

One last game. One last chase. One last display for Will. One of blood, guts and glory. A final masterpiece made to absolute perfection. It wouldn't be his magnum opus, but he would make it as beautiful as he could for his magnum opus to find.

Days ticked by as he watched and waited. Waited for just what he needed. Two people. The last two. Both to be cast in Michelangelo's fresco secco.

Perfection, often strived for, but not often achieved would be Hannibal's greatest challenge. This would be perfection. Absolute and utter perfection if such a form were able to be reached by men. And a man was what Hannibal was. Nothing less and nothing more even if he liked to live like a god among them.

Winter was starting to give way to spring, but on the coast, the ocean kept his art room ideally cool, allowing him to work as he needed for endless hours. A week passed by and then another, mind and body a slave to his creation.

With it finally finished and left to be either forgotten or immortalized, Hannibal made his way back down the coast and to where Will now occupied with his son.

An estate from slaughtering and packaging pigs. A house ran by two women and their own little boy. A home that Hannibal watched religiously, trying to find anything he could as a last hint of his husband's welfare.

Will stayed in bed most days, looking just as exhausted as Hannibal felt. Walter stayed by his side like a puppy and Morgan just as dutifully by Walter.

It was early morning by the time the lights had finally given way to darkness in that house and Hannibal snuck in through a window to find himself in Will's room.

The man was alone, Walter never allowed to stay with him at night, though Hannibal didn't have a clear answer as to why Will had been allowed to stay for that matter. But neither of those mattered.

Will's face was angelic, innocent and carefree. His curls were a tangled mess and he snored lightly as he slept.

Hannibal looked over the younger man for a minute, attempting to memorize this moment, sear it into his mind palace so he could live in it later. His eyes stopped flickering over Will and focused and his left hand where the wedding band still sat, much to Hannibal's surprise. Will couldn't possibly remember, could he? Surely not. If Will remembered, he would have come after Hannibal. He had promised he would.

With a deep breath, Hannibal reached over and carefully slid the ring from Will's finger, Will not even so much as stirring. It would be better this way. Will didn't have to think about him anymore after all of this finally ended. It... Was better.

Hannibal let his fingers brush the curls from Will's face and the man inhaled deeply, slowly pulling from sleep. He whimpered and turned with a creased brow.

"Monster," he whispered and Hannibal did his best to keep his chest from aching.

"Shhh," Hannibal hushed, a small smile pulling at his lips. "Grįžk miegoti, mielas berniuk." (Go back to sleep, dear boy)

Will gave another whimper and his eyes flickered open, looking like deep ocean waves in the dark. "I see you every night, monster," he whispered, tiredly. "You have only ever stared, never touched." His eyes fluttered shut once more, sleep holding rightfully to him. "Please touch."

There was an innocence to the request and Hannibal found himself obeying. His fingers brushed over Will's cheek, gratefulness flooding him at the chance of this one last conversation with Will.

Will sighed at the touch, leaning into it. "You feel so real, monster."

"Esu tikra." (I am real.)

"Your tone is gentler than you look. I wish I knew what you were saying." Will's eyes opened again, looking over Hannibal carefully before letting his eyes close. "I won't see you again, will I, monster?"

"Ne, mielasis berniuk." (No, darling boy.)

"Before you disappear, please do something for me."

"Viskas." Hannibal let his fingers once more run through Will's curls. (Anything)

"Kiss me, monster."

Hannibal stared down at Will, hand frozen. His heart stuttered in his chest as it always did for Will. Only ever for Will.

Would Will remember this in the morning? Hannibal doubted it. If Will had any recollection, it would most likely be blamed as a dream just as Will's words belonged to whatever dream he was having.

Hannibal's thumb traced the scar over Will's forehead and he leaned over, pressing a kiss to it. Will sighed lightly, a tired hand taking the back of Hannibal's neck and slowly guiding Hannibal down lower. Hannibal followed the gentle pull, peppering Will's skin with kisses until he finally reached Will's lips.

The kiss was soft and light. Something sweet to say goodbye without having to let the word slip between them. The word couldn't be said between them because then it would be real and Hannibal wasn't sure he could undertake such a challenge.

Will woke to sunlight filling the room. His eyes blinked to take in the brightness, seeming to take a bit longer to adjust than they normally did. He found himself once more in one of Margot and Alana's spare rooms, though the real reason he was there, he couldn't quite place and not even Walter would give him a straight answer.

His eyes flickered around the room before he stopped on a curious little item on his night stand. He sat up and reached out, picking up a little origami anatomically correct heart. His brows furrowed with the most dizzying concoction of deja vu swirling through his mind.

He pushed himself from his bed and got dressed from his exceptionally limited wardrobe. He couldn't find it in himself to let the heart leave his grip for more than a moment. There was something so familiar about the item that he just couldn't seem to quite place. He had seen it before. He was certain of it. Knew it from somewhere. Somewhere far away. Somewhere foreign.

He wandered into the dining room, nearly trampled by a passing dog and the young Verger heir who Walter seemed to hang around a decent amount. Though Walter wasn't with the child this morning. Walter instead was at the breakfast table when Will entered the dining room.

"Morning," Margot answered in her normally airy voice, blue eyes cold as they flickered up from her drink and to Will. Will gave a small nod in greeting and rubbed a hand over Walter's head, a smile erupting over the boy's face at the contact.

"Morning," Will replied softly, sitting down in his normal spot at the table. He looked up as eyes burned into him and was met with Alana's gaze resting on his closed fist. Will looked down over his knuckles and slowly opened them to show Alana what was closed beneath his fingers. Will glanced back up to catch Alana's expression, a hint of recognition in her eyes, something like understanding. "Wally, go play with Morgan," Will whispered, closing his hand once more and shooting his son a small smile. "I need to speak to Alana and Margot alone."

"Ok." Walter pushed himself from the table. "But you promised to spend the day with me."

Will gave a light smile, something wonderful at the idea of his son wanting to be with him. For some reason he had thought the boy wasn't close to him, thought the lowest of him and had been pleasantly surprised to find the case to be the opposite. Though he still couldn't get a straight answer out of anyone as to what had happened to Molly other than that she had passed away.

That had come as a sharp shock to Will and he wished he had some recollection of the event, Walter having said that he was present, but Will couldn't seem to locate the memory anywhere in his head.

There were a lot of items missing in his head, but something about this folded piece of paper in his hand told him that if he could only figure out the meaning behind the heart that he would unlock everything. That this was a direction to go, a North to follow and if he could just figure out which way the compass was pointing then he was home free.

"Of course," Will assured. "All day, just us two."

"Cool." Walter left the room without another word, leaving the room silent.

Will inhaled deeply and let the origami fall from his palm and onto the tabletop, eyes tight on it and not daring to look up at Alana or Margot. "Please tell me what this means. I know you know," he muttered out, hands becoming fists in his lap. "I've been quiet and been living with the small amount of information that you've given me, but I need to know what this means. Please."

Will's eyes closed tightly and he licked his lips as he waited in silence. He knew what the rule had been to stay here. He had been told that the police and FBI were looking for him and that this was where he was safest, but the only way he could stay was if he didn't ask questions, didn't search out where all of his missing life and time had gone. He had been told that it was safer and he trusted Alana. He always had. She always did what she thought was right and if this was the only option he had to keep his son and stay safe, then he would take it, even if he didn't know why he was hiding.

He opened his eyes and glanced over his fists in the continual stretching silence. His left hand caught his interest, an odd feeling over his ring finger. His ring was missing. He hadn't noticed it when he had just woken, but something tugged at his heart and a panic set in. He had no clue why it was so important. It wasn't the ring that Molly had given him. That had somehow ended up with Walter, on a chain around his neck. He didn't question it though.

He unclenched his left hand and looked over the empty space where the silver and white ring had been and his mind scrambled for where it had gone. He remembered it being there yesterday. He took it off for his shower and put it right back on when he went to bed. Had it fallen off in his sleep? Gotten lost in the bed somewhere? He hoped that was the case. There was something so important about that ring, even if he didn't have an answer for it.

"If I answer this for you Will, you can't stay here anymore," was Alana's answer into the still room.

Will gave a small nod and a deep inhale. That had been Alana's answer to everything. He had silently accepted it, gone along with it for the sake of his son. He bit his tongue in careful thought, body aching for this answer far more than any of his other questions had ever resonated in him. He needed this answer like he needed air to breathe, but he couldn't do that to Walter. He wasn't sure what Walter had been through, but it obviously was enough of something that Margot and Alana kept him nearly held in protective captivity away from Will.

"Do either of you know where my ring went?" he asked instead, the other words in his mind burning across his tongue and begging for release, but he bit them back. "I don't know where it is."

"We will keep an eye out for it," Margot said kindly, sweetly. She had always been so soft, so gentle. Will wasn't sure how he knew that, he barely knew the woman's name, but he knew she was a good person. Knew she had been through hell and back and Will was just another hell she was battling. He would stay as far out of her way as he could. "Don't worry. I'm sure it will turn up."

"Thank you." Will inhaled deeply once more and looked up at the little heart on the table, head tilting to the side. He reached out and picked it back up, pulling it closer to him and hiding it in his lap. He didn't miss the way that Alana and Margot traded glances with each other, something nervous between them.

"What are you and Walter going to do today, Will?" Alana questioned, the change in subject more than painfully obvious.

Will shrugged. "If you have a wine cork and a bike pump you're not using, I have an idea or two."

Alana's brows rose and Will was a bit surprised to see a smile pull at her painted red lips. "Of course. I'm sure we have those laying around somewhere."

Will returned the smile, but his mind was fully stuck on the paper heart in his hand. A key to a room full of answers that he was denied and a burning in his bones.

"How much water do we need to put in it?" Walter asked as he picked up the pitcher of water that they had brought out from the house. It was still too cold for the water to have been turned back on, but the sun had enough warmth that it kept the chill at bay.

"How much water do you think needs to be put in it?" Will asked back with a smile, watching Walter slowly put together their water bottle rocket. He had taped fins to the bottle that were haphazardly shaped and would most likely make the bottle fly at an angle instead of straight up, but the boy was smiling and that's all that mattered.

"Well," Walter muttered, turning the water bottle around in his hand as he looked over it. "The air is what creates the pressure and the water is the thrust. So... equal amounts make sense. Too little or too much of one won't let it fly right."

Will grinned and rubbed at Walter's head. "Well, let's see if that's right."

Walter nodded and began filling the bottle with the water, head tipped to the side as he carefully checked how full the bottle was getting. Will nearly laughed at how serious the boy was taking it, as if he were running calculations in his head to make sure everything was perfect.

"How are we going to get the rocket to stand upright on the bike pump?" Walter asked, his tongue quickly being bitten between his teeth as he went about trying to fit the wine cork into the bottle to seal it off.

"I don't know. How are we going to?" Will asked back again, enjoying watching the boy think.

"There's some bricks by the house. We can make a launch pad with that!" Walter placed the finished bottle aside and jumped from his knees to his feet. "Be right back." Will stepped back to let the boy go around the side of the house and disappear.

Will gave a small laugh and turned towards the other side of the house where a pair of blue eyes had been watching them the entire time they had been outside. The little boy quickly hid behind the side of the house at having been spotted and Will only chuckled a bit more.

"Morgan, you can come over here if you want to," Will offered out kindly.

Morgan's small voice answered as he slowly leaned out from around the house. "He was so excited about being with you. I don't want to-want to- erupt."

Will knelt down with a smile and a shake of his head, a hand out to the boy. "You're not interrupting. Come here."

Morgan glanced over his shoulder and back towards the house where Will knew one of Morgan's mothers was most likely watching him from the large windows around the estate, but he very slowly obeyed Will and stepped through the frosty, dead grass and to where the bottle rocket was.

"How did you know how to make that?" Morgan questioned, pointing to the water bottle as he stopped beside it.

"I was taught how in school," Will said, looking over Morgan carefully.

Morgan's blue eyes widened in curiosity. "I don't get to learn fun stuff like this." His voice held betrayal. "I have to learn stupid things like German. Where did you go to school?" Morgan's arms folded over his chest with a huff.

"I went to school in a little town called Farmerville in Louisiana," Will explained kindly. "Our school was so small that we held classes in trailers."

"And you just had fun all the time?"

Will shook his head. "No. Not all the time, but sometimes."

Morgan's arms fell back to his sides with a small nod. "I guess I get to do some fun things too, but not make things like this." He lowered himself to his knees to better look over the modified water bottle, but looked as if he didn't dare touch it. As if he would upset some cosmic being if he so much as ever had the idea to reach out a single finger. "My mom lets me ride the horses."

"That's nice of her."

"She's been taking Wally out more than me though." Morgan got back to his feet and looked out over the grounds. "It's not very fair, is it? She's my mom. Not his." Morgan sighed. "But he doesn't have a mom, so I can't be mad."

"It's kind of you to let him spend time with your moms." Will gave the boy a kind smile when he turned back to face Will. "It's important for a growing boy to have a mom in his life. Mother's teach things that a father can't sometimes."

"He doesn't like my other mom much. I don't know why."

"Alana?" Will asked curiously and Morgan nodded in answer. "I think he doesn't like how strict she is."

"Strict?"

"She has rules that she expects to be followed and gets upset if they aren't."

"Oh," Morgan muttered with a small nod. "Yes. She doesn't like disobeying."

Will inhaled deeply. "Wally grew up in a house where there weren't very many rules and so he has a hard time listening to them. I'm sure he likes Alana just fine."

"Do you like my mom?"

Will fell silent at that, mind digging through what little memories he had of the woman. Yes. He liked her. He liked her very much. She was a kind woman, a righteous woman, a woman who had the largest heart that Will had ever seen. She only ever wanted what was the absolute best for everyone around her. She seemed a bit colder now, more distant and bitter towards the world, but under it all, Will was certain she was still the same caring woman. She wouldn't have let him and Walter stay if she wasn't.

"Yes Morgan. I like your mom very much," Will finally answered. "We've been friends for a very long time. She and I used to work together."

"You did?" Morgan's lips tipped into a brilliant smile. "Are you a doctor too?"

Will shook his head with a chuckle. "No. I was a teacher for a school that your mother worked at."

Morgan blinked several times, looking confused. "Was she a teacher too?"

"She would help teach sometimes, but she was always a doctor."

"Oh." Morgan nodded. He jumped slightly as Walter came back around the building, struggling to hold onto four red bricks in his arms. Morgan took a step back and behind Will as if he were trying to hide once more, but Will reached out a hand and stopped him. "No, I-"

"Wally," Will said, pulling Morgan a little closer. "Is it ok if Morgan joins us? He wanted to see the rocket fly."

Walter stopped, his face turning down just slightly as he dropped the bricks onto the grass with a clatter. He sighed and fell down to his knees. "Yeah, whatever," he muttered under his breath as he began stacking the bricks. "He's got to help though."

"I'm sure he could go pick up the rocket when it lands, can't you Morgan?" Will asked kindly.

"Yes!" Morgan replied with a small and happy jump.

Walter rolled his eyes, but Will didn't miss the small smile tugging at the corner of Walter's lips.

The rocket was a success, both the boys enjoying it immensely, much to Will's surprise. He thought that the two would have gotten tired after the third time shooting it off, but both were more than happy to keep going.

"I'll refill the pitcher. Be right back," Walter said, grabbing the yellow colored plastic and racing back towards the house.

"Can you go grab the bottle Morgan?" Will asked and Morgan obeyed immediately without question, racing off to fetch the plastic that had gone a fair distance away.

Will inhaled deeply of the chilled air, letting it fill his lungs, something happy in his blood, though there was still something that was missing deep down. Something he couldn't exactly name, but he supposed it didn't matter as long as his son was happy.

Morgan came back and let the bottle fall back beside the bricks that Walter had set up to hold the bottle in and sat down beside Will, pulling his knees into his chest. "What happened to your ring?" Morgan questioned after a moment, reaching out to take Will's hand that was missing the piece of metal from it.

"I don't know. Lost it, I guess," Will said, something sad sinking into his voice, though he wasn't exactly sure why.

"Hanni wouldn't like that," Morgan stated strongly, causing Will to freeze, the name tugging at something in his mind. Something familiar.

"Hanni?" Will asked back, the word sweet on his tongue.

"Yeah. He gave you the ring." Morgan tipped his head to the side. "You don't remember again, do you?"

"Again?"

"Yeah," Morgan said with a small nod, letting Will's hand go. "You forgot before. He was sad about it, but he said that you remembered and then you got married and Wally was-"

"We what?" The air was sucked from Will's lungs and a hand went to his head as his mind searched for a wedding that he had never attended. And to a man, no less. Was Will gay? No. But not that that mattered much. Why did it matter if he was or wasn't. He obviously had loved this person enough to legally bind himself to whoever it was, and that's what mattered. But how could he forget? Morgan wouldn't lie about something like that. Children were known for spitting out the brutal truth all of the time. Why would the kid lie? How could Will forget his own husband? "I'm married," he whispered.

"Yeah," Morgan said brightly. "Wally doesn't like him much, but I like him."

Walter came back from the house, the pitcher sloshing some water out onto the grass in his hurry. Will glanced up at him and the boy stopped in his tracks, something knowing on his face. Walter nodded and moved closer, setting the pitcher on the ground before sitting on Will's other side.

"You weren't supposed to tell him, Morgan," Walter said with a sad sort of smile on his lips. Will's brows furrowed as he looked between the two boys, somehow much further confused than he had been.

"But his ring-"

"He wasn't supposed to know, Morgan," Walter said once more, cutting off the young boy with a nervous little laugh. "Go. Find him."

"What?" Will asked softly, unsure exactly where this conversation was going. There were still so many variables and unanswered questions that Will wasn't even sure where he was supposed to begin. He was drowning in new knowledge that did nothing to unlock how it was something he should have already known. He was married, great. To someone named Hanni, what an odd name. Why the hell couldn't he remember? What was he meant to do with that information? "Find him?"

"He left," Walter explained with a shrug as if it were the simplest explanation in the world. "You forgot and I made him leave. I thought we would be better off without him, but you're miserable. You don't realize it, but you are." Walter smiled and turned to look at Will's shocked face, something so calm and understanding about the boy's features. "Go and find him."

"Hanni?" Will asked back.

Walter snorted and shook his head. "Hannibal Lecter."

Will's brows furrowed, the name pulling blurry images to the forefront of his mind. The silhouette of a man in a suit. He closed his eyes, trying to cling to that image, but as soon as it was there, it was gone again, leaving only smoke in its place. A shadow suspended on dust.

"You want me to go find some random man?" Will asked back, shaking his head and slowly opening his eyes again. "If I do that, we can't stay here."

"You know his name now, thanks to Morgan," Walter pointed out.

"Hey," the young boy grumbled, arms folding over his chest with a huff of air.

"That's the whole reason we were allowed to stay," Walter continued on softly. "He's not a good man, dad, but he's good to you. Makes you happy."

"Not a good man," Will repeated, a hand running through his curls. "When you say not a good-"

"I think you need to figure it out for yourself," Walter interrupted. "I don't think I'm the person who can tell you what he's done."

Will gripped a bit tighter to his curls and looked up at the clear sky, something finally starting to make sense despite the fact that it was leaving him with far more questions than answers. A husband who was a bad man, but good to him. But bad in the sense of a child's world being bad. Walter was only eleven. There wasn't much that Walter could see as horrible yet, was there?

"I'm not leaving you," Will stated firmly, shaking his head. "That's-"

"They won't let me go with you," Walter snickered, leaning into Will to knock Will slightly off balance. "You'll come back for me just like you always have. It's ok."

"But Wally," Morgan whispered. "You said that-"

"I know what I've said," Walter interrupted, reaching across Will and ruffling at Morgan's hair. "This is what I'm saying now. Dad, you moping around here day in and day out with nothing to do is driving us all a bit crazy. Go find Hannibal and then come back for me. We can go see the Great Wall of China or something after." Walter shrugged.

"You're..." Will trailed off, body suddenly wanting to be in two places at once. Here beside his son and off with this person he couldn't quite find in his own head, but had to exist somewhere.

"Would you get out of here?" Walter teased, though there was a pained sharpness to his voice. "Morgan and I will pick up and go in for lunch."

"A sandwich sounds good," Morgan agreed, causing Will to chuckle.

"Let's get this cleaned up," he said instead. "Come on boys. We'll go make sandwiches after."

"Goodnight," Will muttered, pressing a kiss to Walter's head. He closed the book they had been reading and set it aside on the bedside table, getting to his feet.

"Dad?" Walter asked, causing Will to turn back to the bed.

"Yes, Wally?"

"Are you going to leave now?"

Will inhaled deeply and glanced around the room, taking it in for a moment. "I haven't decided yet," he replied slowly.

"Liar," Walter teased, reaching out for the book that Will had set aside to flip open to where they had been reading. Will gave a curious look and Walter shrugged. "You're not going to finish reading it to me. You won't be here in the morning."

"How-"

"Will Lecter," Walter said, catching Will off guard with the words. "Get your fucking ass out of this house and don't you fucking dare come back until old shitty stick up his ass is back here." Will blinked several times at the words before slowly giving a nod. "Good. Goodnight Dad."

Will felt heavy as he left the room and closed the door behind himself. He stood there in the hall, a million thoughts running through his head until he reached a hand into his pocket and pulled the origami heart from it. He looked over it carefully for a moment or two before something written on the paper caught his attention.

With quick hands, he unfolded the creation until the paper was a crumpled mess in his hand with a swirling scrolling across it.

The Watching Star

Will's eyes widened and his breath caught in his throat. A lighthouse. A lighthouse on a cliff with chipping paint that spiraled up it. Drawings on a table in an apartment overlooking New York City.

"Fuck," Will whispered, a hand going to his head at the splitting head ache that erupted behind one of his eyes. He closed his fist around the paper and raced up the hall to where he knew Alana and Margot would be putting Morgan to bed. He knocked on the door and pushed it open, calling three pairs of blue eyes to land on him. "I need to talk to you," he said in answer.

Alana's brows rose and she gave a small nod, getting to her feet from where she sat on her son's bed. "Be back in a minute, sweetie," she whispered, leaning over to kiss Morgan's cheek before following Will out of the room. Alana closed the door with a steadying and deep breath, folding her arms over her chest and turning to face Will. "What is it?"

"Where was I near a lighthouse?" he asked hurriedly. "I-I can remember a lighthouse. Where?"

"A lighthouse?" Alana asked in confusion. "I'm not understanding Will."

"The heart. I unfolded it and it said this." He held out the crumpled paper to Alana for her to see, his hands trembling as he did so. "I don't know how I know, but it's a lighthouse. That's what this means. What lighthouse?"

"Will, calm down. Let's talk this through, alright?" Alana reached out a hand and took his arm firmly, guiding him away from the boy's bedroom and towards her study. She led Will inside and Will watched as she moved over to her desk, pulling open one of the drawers and fishing from it a black notebook. "Come sit down, Will. We have some things to talk about."

"You told me today that if I-"

"Sit down," Alana interrupted, looking up with a tight smile before she returned her gaze to the book, flipping through the pages.

Will was slow to obey, his body not feeling like his own. It felt distant and heavy when he stepped closer to the desk and eventually took a seat in a chair beside it. The room stayed in its silence as Alana continued to look through the book, finger trailing down the pages before she would flip to another one.

"What is-"

"Just a moment," she interrupted Will, not looking up from her work.

Will nodded and licked his lips, looking at the mess of paper in his hand and the handwriting on it that was so damn familiar, but he still just could not place. It must have belonged to Hannibal. That was the only thing he could make of it. But then that meant that Hannibal had been in his room? When had another man been in his room? Surely he would have remembered. He didn't sleep well. He was woken up by the wind outside his window. No one could have gotten in and out of his room without him knowing.

Will glanced up as the study door opened and in stepped Margot, straightening out her wonderfully expensive shirt as she made her way to the desk. She took one look at the book in Alana's hands and understanding covered her features in much the same way that it had Walter's earlier that day.

Why was everyone else allowed to know but him? What had he done that was so wrong that he wasn't allowed to remember? What had he done? He wasn't a bad person. He was dark, had his own demons to fight, but so did everyone. He couldn't-

He's not a good man, dad.

Maybe it wasn't Will. Maybe it was the man he had married. Maybe that was what he wasn't meant to remember. Maybe this Hannibal Lecter was the cause of everything, though what everything was, Will couldn't be positive.

"Will, if you want to know this, I can't allow you to-"

"I need to know," Will said before Alana could finish her sentence. He shocked himself with the words, but there was something missing, some part of him so close to being in reach and he had to get to it. He just had to. "I can't live like this anymore Alana. It's torture to not remember anything."

"I'd consider it a blessing," Margot said in her bored and monotone voice, but she quickly placed a small smile on her face, eyes sparkling slightly. "But I think you liked your captor a bit more than I liked mine."

"Captor?" Will ran a hand through his curls and glanced between the two women. He shook his head with a small groan. "If you tell me, I can't stay here."

"Correct," Alana said with a nod, tone not unkind, but steadfast in its decision.

"And what about Walter?" Will asked, a hand taking the edge of the desk to ground himself from his body that was feeling like it was trying to float away, be anywhere but in that study.

"That depends on what you decide to do," Alana explained. "If I tell you this and you are going to try to just stay under police radar, he can leave with you. If you decide to go after the person that I'm going to tell you about, Walter stays here with us. I am not about to let the sweet little boy anywhere near that man."

"You mean Hannibal, right?"

There was a strained silence and Margot and Alana traded glances.

"Where did you hear that name?" Margot asked softly, a hand taking Alana's shoulder.

"The-the boys mentioned it today. My husband, right?" Will gave a forced laugh and lifted up his hand that was missing his ring, his finger still feeling so odd without the band across it. "Neither of you took my ring, did you?"

"No," Alana replied quickly. "We would never, Will."

Will nodded. He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. "You'll keep Walter away from me if I go after my husband."

"Yes," Alana said.

"If you go after Hannibal, we will have no choice but to leave, Will," Margot explained, voice a bit softer now, trying to convince him not to leave. "Hannibal will come after my son, and I cannot risk anything happening to him. You understand, don't you?"

"He'll come after your son? Who the hell did I marry?" Will gave another laugh, something bordering on hysterics and he lowered his head into his hands. His body was hot and tight as if his skin wasn't his own. Something wasn't fitting right. There was a piece out of place. "Or better yet, don't tell me. Wally said it was better if I figured it out on my own. Maybe he's right."

Alana inhaled deeply, acceptance in the sound. "The lighthouse was in Maine in Cape Elizabeth."

"Cape Elizabeth," Will repeated, but the name was unfamiliar to him. Of course he knew of the town, but not to the point where he had lived there and called it home. But he must have if he knew this lighthouse. "I need to go there. At least see that and then I'll-I'll-"

"Go after Hannibal," Margot interrupted with another one of her nearly nonexistent smiles. "You won't be able to stay away, Will. He's good at what he does."

Will looked up from his hands in confusion, but didn't dare push it. Instead, his attention was pulled to Alana who closed the book and held it across the desk. "This was with your things," she explained. "Your amnesia isn't anything new Will. For a time Hannibal was taking care of you and made notes about your time together. That's what's in this notebook."

Will snatched up the book from her hand and looked over the leather binding, but even this, something that held a piece of his life in it, didn't send a single spark of recognition through him. He opened it and came across the same scrolling as what had been on the origami heart. The handwriting of his husband, Hannibal Lecter.

Something in him couldn't bring himself to read any of the words though. He closed the notebook and stared at the leather once more, deep in thought, weighing all of his options, feeling sick with either side of the coin he chose to flip to.

"I have to go to Cape Elizabeth," he announced. "I just have to." He got to his feet and strode past the two women and towards the study door.

"Will, do not expect your son to be here when you get back," Alana called after him, causing Will to stop. "I will not allow you to take him into the world that you're about to let yourself be sucked back up into."

Will spoke, unsure exactly where the harsh words had come from, but knowing that they held all of the truth in them that words had the capacity to hold.

"If my son is missing when I come back, it won't be Hannibal Lecter who comes after you."