Swiggity swag, where is the stag? ehhehehehe hello everyone :D here's another chapter! we're heading to conclusion, but there's still a lot of time before we get there ;) so, enjoy your stay!

As usual, thanks everyone for reading/liking/commenting this fic :3 further reviews and critics are much much much appreciated!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything and blablabla

Enjoy :D

"Will! Will, can you hear me?"

Will slowly came back to his senses, blinded by a bright light pointed right in his eyes, one forcefully opened after the other. He raised a hand, covering them, annoyed.

"Will, answer me. Can you hear me?"

He slightly opened his eyes, blinking rapidly, trying to focus, to see anything in the dark that surrounded him, but it took him a few moment to regain his sight, obscured by all the dark dots that kept appearing wherever he looked.

"Will?" A warm caress, a light touch on his frozen skin, hand cupping his cheek. A familiar feeling.

"Tristan" Will whispered, looking at him, barely seeing his face in the dark.

"It's Hannibal, Will" he replied after a few seconds, his voice deadly still.

"Hannibal?" He felt so confused, had to blink a couple times before actually recognizing his psychiatrist's face. "Hannibal" he said, eyes fixed on him like he was seeing his face for the first time.

"Yes Will, I'm here. How are you feeling?"

"I don't know." His eyes had a hard time staying open, his head was fuzzy, his whole body aching.

"You probably had a concussion, but doesn't seem to be anything worse. Even so…"

"Ah!" Will winced, shrinking back on the seat, as he felt a sharp pain piercing his skull.

"You have a deep cut on your forehead, it needs a few stitches."

"Where am I?"

"You don't remember?"

"I'm… not sure."

"You crashed a few miles after leaving my house. You don't remember how it happened?"

Will looked as lost as he felt. His eyes kept wandering aimlessly, looking at the surroundings, trying to figure out something, anything. "No" he admitted in the end, defeated.

"Come, I'll take you back to my house. If your condition worsen, I'll take you to the hospital immediately." As soon as he opened his mouth to protest, Hannibal silenced him. "No arguing."

Will puffed, giving up. He let him help him out of the car, climbing his way out of the vehicle, not really stable on his feet. He found out soon enough that he was frozen to the core, not having his coat on, having laid for God knows how long in his wracked car, glass of the windows cracked open, chilly night's wind entering. His teeth were chattering, his whole body was shaking with tremors as Hannibal led him to his own car and settled him in the passenger seat, the heating blowing warm air on his stiffened limbs. Will sighed in relief, enjoying fully the warmth, his head still fuzzy. Soon after, Hannibal got in the car, carrying Will's coat, which he laid on him like a blanket.

"Hannibal, there's no need-" he groaned.

"Shut up, Will."

His commanding voice surprised him a little. Will eyed him, not uttering another word as he started the engine, not having ever heard him use such a tone when talking to him. The car got into motion, and a second later they were heading back to Baltimore.

Will wrapped himself in his coat, the shivers gradually fading, his hands not numb anymore, all while stealing side-glances at Hannibal, who had kept quiet himself after having silenced him. As time passed, he felt the mutism becoming quite oppressing. Hannibal seemed angry despite his blank expression, but he couldn't understand what he could be mad about, and dared not ask. The trip back seemed to him way longer than it actually was.

When they finally arrived, after parking the car, Hannibal quickly got off and came to his side, opening the door for him and helping him out. Will let him lead him in and couldn't bring himself to open his mouth, for he was actually taken aback by his psychiatrist's behavior, also a little intimidated. He had never seen him like this, so authoritarian and grave.

He followed Hannibal's lead like a child who's being brought to his room after having misbehaved, which was silly because he didn't do anything to feel guilty about, but even so he didn't dare to argue. Will was brought to the kitchen and settled on a stool, Hannibal returned soon after, carrying his fist-aid kit. He prepared what he needed to patch him up, then stood in front of him.

"Stay still."

And so Will did. He sat still while Hannibal cleaned his face from the blood and disinfected the wound, even if it burned like hell when he did, clenching his fists and keeping his gaze fixed on him. He felt his fingers touching him with care, leaving warm traces on his skin as ke took care of him, gentle with every gesture. But his emotionless expression had something he had never seen in him, like a note in a tune that doesn't sound right but you can't really spot in the score.

When he was done, he cleaned up everything and started packing the kit back.

"Thanks." Will received no response. "Why are you mad?" he asked sheepishly, needing a few moments to find the courage to speak up.

"Why would I be?" he answered, not looking at him.

"I don't know. You look like you stepped on a thorn or something."

Hannibal eyed him with the same expression he had been carrying since his rescue, before returning to stuff things into the kit.

"I'm not mad."

"Then what's the matter? As far as I recall, I was the one who got into an accident. Yet you're acting like it was my fault" Will said, a bit resented.

"You left in a mental state that made it unsafe for you to drive, it made you reckless."

"Hey, it's not like I played Fast and Furious or anything, alright?"

Hannibal turned to look at him in the eyes, dead serious.

"You crashed into a tree. I called you a dozen times before you finally picked up, and then you pass out in the middle of the call. Do you have any idea how worried I was?" He did sound angry.

"I'm sorry about that. But I didn't run into the tree because I was speeding, I just-"

Will stopped talking midsentence, widening his eyes like he just got slapped. It had all come back to him in a second, the stag, the dream, everything, like a cold shower.

"The stag. There was a stag on the road, standing right there, looking at me! I had to swerve to avoid it, I couldn't help it, the car lost control…" He said, frantically looking around, then his gaze went back to Hannibal. "I had a beard" Will said with emphasis, eyes wide, sounding like he had just discovered the cure for cancer.

"…a beard" Hannibal repeated, looking at him.

"Yes!"

"Will, you have a beard." He sounded like he was talking to some psychiatric case.

"No, no, no, not this I-forgot-to-shave-this-morning beard, more like a month old beard."

"I am afraid you've lost me."

"My strange dreams, the ones where I'm trapped in my character, you remember them right? Well after the crash, when I passed out while on the phone with you, I had another one. I saw my reflection. It was me, with longer hair and beard, but it was definitely me. And I was mad, God, I was so mad, because me as well as the other knights were about to finally be freed from our duty, but then another mission was casted upon us, and our leader couldn't back off, he had to interrupt our celebration to tell us, and we just couldn't believe it!"

It sounded all absurd even to his own ears, but that didn't stop him from talking, saying every little thing he could remember from the most recent dream, almost afraid it could disappear from a moment to another.

"This time I got a few names. Our leader was Arthur, among the others I remember Bors, Gawain, Dagonet, Lancelot," he hesitated for a second before continuing, "Tristan… and me, I was Galahad. We also talked about Romans, Bishop Germanius was the one supposed to free us, but he broke his word and commanded this other quest, to rescue a roman family threatened by Saxons… we were also worried about the Woads."

Looking at the ground, trying to focus and see if he could extrapolate anything else from his memory of the dream, Will wasn't aware of the look Hannibal was giving him. His expression was indecipherable, but there was a sparkle in his eyes, something burning deep inside.

When Will finally lifted his gaze on him, they exchanged the longest look before he started talking again.

"Look, I know I sound crazy, but I swear, it was all so real, it seemed more like a memory than a dream-"

"Will" Hannibal called him, his voice low and hoarse, almost sensual.

"Yes?" He swallowed hard before answering.

"Do you realize you're talking about King Arthur and the knights of the round table?"