"See. This is all I've ever wanted for you, Will. For both of us."
"It's beautiful."
Will's arms wrapped around Hannibal before he gently pushed them both over the cliff and then it was nothing but rushing air and the sound of waves.
"I don't know if I can save myself. Maybe that's just fine."
The bright light pendulating behind Will's eyes didn't seem to disappear this time. In fact, it had a different pattern than he was used to at crime scenes. Was he even at a crime scene? His surroundings felt soft and hard at the same time. And was he hearing waves? Will's eyes slowly opened as his hands touched the blanked covered bunk he was laying in. Nothing looked familiar around him. Wishing he knew where he was, he rose from the sitting position to go find somebody. Anybody.
Hannibal sat at the table, dressed in someone else's clothes, drinking tea. His person suit firmly in place. He was waiting for Will but the crew of this modest boat didn't need to know what he hoped would happen. Did Will even remember what happened up on that cliff with Dolarhyde? How magnificent it truly was? How they were connected when it was them against him? He needed Will to remember. Remember all of it. The knowing look. How they work together so perfectly. The power of killing together.
Dolarhyde has his hand wrapped around Hannibal's throat. Squeezing the breath out of his lungs, Will pulls the knife from his shoulder and rushes Dolarhyde. Stabbing once, twice into his back, causing him to drop Hannibal. A swift fist connects with Will's face and a knee to Hannibal's, knocking the small ax off the wood pile. Dolarhyde begins to stalk toward Will when Hannibal swung the ax at Dolarhyde, slicing into his leg. Will stabbed into him again with the knife. Another swing of the hatchet and a shared, knowing look between Hannibal and Will. Hannibal leapt onto Dolarhyde, one hand gripping his shoulder and the other pulling his head back. Will rushed forward, knife out, piercing into his Dolarhyde's abdomen. Wrenching it across his body, Will cut the knife through Dolarhyde. Hannibal sank his teeth into the neck of the man he was currently clutching to, pulling enough of a mouthful away to have Dolarhyde spurting blood. Gracefully, Hannibal landed on the ground as Dolarhyde sank to his knees, blood pouring from his neck and stomach. Silently, he tumbled to his back as Hannibal made his way to Will.
"It really does look black in the moonlight," Will uttered on his next breath.
Falling out of the fantastical memory, Hannibal allowed a small smile to slip through before keeping himself in check. This was all a game and he had to make the right moves until it was time for him and Will to take the opportunity that would be offered to them. He knew it would be but first, Will needed to walk into the cabin.
Will came stumbling through the hatch, eyes darting in suspicion at the crew members that now surrounded him. His ragged body covered in blood soaked clothes slumped at the same table that Hannibal was sitting at.
"Where are we, Hannibal?" He whispered, still eyeing the other individuals in the cabin.
"We are on a boat. They pulled us out of the water and have been kind enough to give me dry clothes. Perhaps you would like some also?" Hannibal prompted Will, gently wanting to catch him up and for him to be on the same page all at once. His eyes cleared and he got the message that Hannibal sent without saying. 'Play along and don't give yourself away.'
"Yes. Would that be any trouble?" Will asked, turning to one of the crew. Without eliciting a response, the man pulled a spare set of clothes and laid them on the table for Will. "Thank you." Will took the clothes he was given and slipped into the cabin he came from. Changing damp clothes from dry ones, he paused when he caught a glimpse of the stitched wound on his shoulder. Trembling fingers fluttered over the clear stitches and as if on instinct, his hand traveled up to his face and he felt the same stitching over a cut on his cheek. Immediately Will is thrown into memory after memory, tumbling into the darkness of the past.
Dolarhyde slams the knife into Will's cheek, piercing the soft skin, before throwing him out of the house entirely. The full force of this giant man's strength sends Will's body rolling outside. Hands fall on him again. Grabbing the knife from his face, he sends it flying into Dolarhyde's own leg, who then stabs it into Will's shoulder in retaliation, causing a shout to fall from his lips.
Hands cleaning the cuts, tired eyes, clear stitching closing the bleeding wounds, water dripping onto his face, soft words spoken into his ear only for him to hear. "Wake up, Will. I need you awake and working with me again. Because we can't go back."
Will's eyes catch his reflection in the porthole as he comes back to the present. Will slowly pulls on the rest of the clothes he was given. How long has it been since the house, the fight, the fall off the cliff? Torn from his wonderings, Hannibal steps into the cabin. Without saying a word, he gives Will a knowing look. Will recognized it. It's the same look from the fight against Dolarhyde. What is he up to?