"Wally, they said to stay here," Morgan called as Walter left their parent's room.

"Shut up, kid," Walter hissed, heading towards Morgan's now vacant room where he could see out of the window. When he was younger, he probably would have been more afraid of looking out of that window at Hannibal working, but now it held a spark of interest for him, and he hoped that his mother wouldn't judge him too harshly for it.

"Wally."

"I said shut up." Walter turned back as Morgan stuck his head around the door frame. "You're not allowed to look."

"But you're looking!"

"Shut up and go back to their room."

Morgan frowned and stuck his tongue out at Walter who returned the childish action before looking back out of the window. He could hear Morgan's retreating footsteps and then the house fell silent. Walter's gaze was intently on the man in the boat and Walter held his breath as the man stood up, his attention on something or someone else.

Had that really been the best approach? Something so direct as speaking with the man? Walter wished he could have had more of an input because he would have had them pack up and the moment the man's boat had left in the morning, left, and went to another of their safe houses. Maybe not even that. Maybe have he and Morgan leave on their normal Saturday shopping and then they could all rendezvous with Will and Hannibal at the mooring and leave on the sailboat.

Walter took another step closer to find Hannibal just barely in view, but Walter didn't dare move any nearer just in case he was seen. What interested him was the fact that he didn't see Will anywhere. It was possible that his dad was just out of sight and there, but Walter tried his best to ignore it and focus on reading lips instead as they were too far away for Walter to actually make anything out.

"I would rather appreciate it if you didn't loiter around my home," Hannibal stated, causing the man in the small boat to jump and get to his feet. "You're giving my youngest quite a fright."

"Your youngest?" the man asked back in English, not a single hint of any accent to his words other than American. Interesting to be sure, but it only gave Will's theory more of a foundation. His distinct features only strengthened it further.

"That is the window you keep staring into and taking pictures of," Hannibal agreed with a nod, coming to a stop just beside the boat and looking down on the man who was a bit shorter due to the bobbing water level. "I would suggest that you pack up, leave and never return before I call the polizia."

The man gave a small laugh and shook his head. "You wouldn't do that."

"I wouldn't?" Hannibal challenged, taking in more details of the boat only to find it empty save for the man. "Would you care to find out?"

"Doctor Hannibal Lecter would not risk calling the police."

Hannibal's brows rose at the words, but he didn't grace them with any answer that would confirm or deny the accusation. "If I find out that you are stalking my son from any time after this point, I will take legal measures to make sure that you are unable to come near my child."

"But he's not yours, is he?" the man challenged with a smirk. "And since when have you ever done anything legally?"

"I'm really trying to be quite nice about this," Hannibal tried once more with a small sigh, adding a bit more innocent annoyance to his tone. "Stay away from my family."

"I've just come to collect what's mine."

"Yours?" Hannibal turned at the new voice and Will stepped a bit closer from where he had been hiding in the shadows of the villa, listening. He hadn't expected Will to join the conversation. Will normally enjoyed spectating over engaging, but every once in a while, Will would dabble. "Nothing here belongs to you and my husband is much kinder than I will be. It is time for you to fuck off. If you come near this place or my children again, I will take care of you myself."

"Like you took care of my sister?" he challenged.

Hannibal smirked lightly. He hadn't doubted Will for a moment, but it still always made a feeling of pride swell in him when he saw Will working. This was Alana's brother. Hannibal had heard about a supposed brother, but Alana had never mentioned him by name. Just that she had a twin, and they weren't on the best of terms and that was that. Maybe Will knew more about the man than Hannibal did, but he doubted it.

"Sister?" Hannibal questioned.

"Stop playing dumb with me. I know you two killed my sister in cold blood and took her son. That's why I am here." His eyes shone darkly, and his tone had lost all of its lightness. "You shot Alana and her wife down and stole Morgan. I've been tracking you down since then."

"I think you've got it wrong," Will informed, though there was no way that the man would believe him. "Neither of us touched Alana."

"Liar!" The shout echoed around the night, bouncing off the stone buildings and down the canals. His hands had become fists at his sides and his jaw was tight. "Both of you are fucking cowards. Give me my nephew back."

"You're not taking our son," Hannibal stated strongly.

"I'm willing to make this as easy as possible," he pushed. "I take Morgan back and you never hear from us again. Your whereabouts will be kept quiet and there doesn't have to be a fight between us."

"It will be a slaughter, not a fight Alan," Will explained simply. "You will not come out on top."

"So, you won't just hand him over?" There wasn't any surprise in Alan's voice. Simply disappointment as if he really had been hoping it could be that simple.

Will snorted and Hannibal reached out a hand to stop Will's step closer to the boat. "Why would we just hand him over?" Will shot back sharply, tongue forked. "He's our son and we have asked nicely and threatened. It is time for you to go."

"I can't do that," Alan insisted with a shake of his head. "Not now that I know he's alive. He belongs with family. He belongs with my wife, my children and me. He will be well looked after and-"

"He has a family and doesn't belong to you."

"We will not ask again for your departure," Hannibal continued on for Will who was seething at his side. Hannibal's hand kept Will at bay like a leash on an attack dog.

"I'll be back and he will be coming with me. There won't be another option," Alan warned, leaning over to start up the engine of his small boat, it coming to life with a soft purring.

"I do not take kindly to you threatening my family," Hannibal stated firmly, taking a step back. "You will not like what is waiting for you if you choose to return."

"We need to leave," Walter whispered over to Morgan. "You need to pack."

"We're leaving?" Morgan asked back in disbelief. "But-But-"

"We need to pack," Walter pushed in a harsh softness. "We're not safe."

"But he left."

"It doesn't matter."

Walter moved from where he had been positioned at the window where a boat had disappeared and where his parents had disappeared from. He went to Morgan's closet and opened the door, reaching up to the top shelf to pull out a backpack. Morgan rushed over to his side with a pout.

"I don't want to-"

"It doesn't matter what you want." Walter ripped open the backpack and began shoving some clothes into it from Morgan's closet. "Grab your bunny. Come on." When Morgan didn't move, Walter gave a sigh and shook his head. "Why can't you ever just listen to me, huh? Go get some things. You can't take them all."

There was a small shift from Morgan, taking a small step backwards, Walter's shirt slipping further off of the child's shoulder. Ever since Walter had let him borrow his shirt nearly a year ago, he had never been given it back. It had become Morgan's new pajamas. Morgan's lip was once more between his teeth, being chewed on and Walter reached out, taking a firm grip on Morgan's shoulder and kneeling down.

"Listen to me, Einstein," he whispered over the sound of the front door opening and closing down stairs. "We can't stay here anymore. It's not safe, ok? I know you don't want to leave. I don't want to leave either, but this is our life." There was something that twisted inside of Walter at the admittance of the words and how grossly true they were. They had all grown too comfortable here. It was time to move on. "You trust me, don't you?"

Morgan gave a small nod, arms circling around his body. "Of course, Wally."

"Then trust that I will keep you safe. I will protect you." Walter's fingers ran through Morgan's hair and he leaned over pressing a kiss to Morgan's forehead. "Go grab your bunny and a pillow and blanket. It's time that we move on. Start a new life. I'll be there with you just like always. Come on."

"Ok." Morgan pulled out of Walter's grip and raced from the room, past Hannibal and Will who had reached the top of the stairs, disappearing into Walter's room.

Walter glanced up from the bag he was packing for Morgan and got to his feet as his parents looked into the room. "We'll be ready soon. Just a few more minutes," Walter explained.

"You heard then?" Hannibal asked with a small smile.

Walter shook his head. "No. But I know you two well enough to know that this is what you'd want us to do." Walter went back to shoving things into the bag, but stopped at the silence from the doorway, no praise or disagreement coming at his words. He looked back over his shoulder with a curious brow, doing his best to read his dad. Hannibal was out of the question. He couldn't use his barely functional empathy to know instantly what Hannibal were thinking, but Will was a bit easier. "Who was that?" Walter asked after a breath. "He's important. Who is he?"

"Alana's brother," Will supplied with a deep breath.

Walter turned fully around with confusion written across his face. "Morgan's uncle?"

"The very same." Hannibal gave a nod. "He will be returning. The quicker you can be ready, the better that would be for all of us. I've told you that it is better to have a pack ready to go."

"I think we all just loved this place too much to actually think we'd have to leave," Walter muttered with a sad sort of smile. "I'll miss it."

"Maybe we'll come back in the future," Hannibal offered in faux hope. "For now, pack. We'll leave the moment you're done."

"Yes, Sir." Walter nodded and went back to work.

"Will, go grab our things. I need to make some final adjustments."

"Alright." Will patted Hannibal's shoulder and passed the doorway, heading up towards their own room, the sound of the door closing indicating that Will was out of hearing range.

"Do not breathe a word of this to Morgan," Hannibal was swift to instruct. "We will discuss it with him when the time is right. Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly." Walter assured.

"Speed is of the essence. We can replace things, but not you or your brother." With those words, Hannibal turned away from the room, leaving Walter to grumble his argument of:

"We aren't brothers."

Morgan stopped in the doorway of Walter's room at the words that had been hurriedly spoken by his parents to Walter in the other room. Uncle? Had he had an uncle? His mind scrambled to try to latch onto such a person, but when he thought of that house all he could see was blood. Even through happy memories, it was blurred and stained with red.

Maybe that had been one of the men who had been fighting with his mother one day. Asking why she had disappeared and separated from her family and she had yelled at the man to get out. That he wasn't welcomed. He looked similar to his mother. Or he thought the man did. All images of his mothers were deteriorated at this point, what Hannibal had called a possible coping mechanism with having watched them both be taken right in front of him.

Morgan hid back further into the room, waiting for his parents to be done speaking to Walter. His bunny was clutched tightly to his chest. Even if he didn't need to sleep with the bunny anymore, it still brought him an insane amount of comfort just like it had the night that Will had given it to him. He waited until the voices died and the bedroom door further down the hall opened and closed twice before returning to the bedroom that Walter was working in.

"He wants me, doesn't he?" Morgan asked as he grabbed a pillow from his bed and began to roll up a blanket to shove into the pillow case.

"You heard." It wasn't a question. A statement. Walter tossed the backpack onto the bed next to Morgan and Morgan began shoving his bunny into the sock cords on the bag. "Yes. He wants you. Does that frighten you?"

"No." Morgan threw the bag over his shoulder and grabbed onto his bulging pillow case, holding it against his body. "I didn't know I had an uncle. This is my family so..." Morgan fell quiet as Walter finally met his gaze from the pair of shoes he had gathered up for Morgan to put on. "Family is who takes care of you, not just blood, right?" Morgan's tone was hesitant as if afraid that he had said something wrong. "So you and Will and Hannibal are my family."

"You don't want to know your uncle?"

"I'm not too horribly curious," Morgan admitted, letting Walter help him put on his socks and shoes, even if he knew how to do it himself. He lifted one foot at a time and rested them on Walter's knee like he used to do when they were so much younger. "It's been years and now he suddenly shows up."

"We do hide."

"We couldn't be that hard to find." Morgan stumbled a bit and Walter's hands snatched out to steady the boy. "We all have habits that we can't break. I'm sure anyone could figure out where we were just based on how much money Hannibal and Will like to spend on things."

"They aren't subtle," Walter agreed, getting to his feet. "I need to pack. Be back in a moment."

"Wally-" Morgan broke off at a noise down the stairs that he almost thought he had imagined, but Walter must have heard it too.

Walter halted, a hand out to have Morgan be still. He raised an index finger to his lips to keep Morgan silent and stepped towards the doorway. The sound had been quiet enough that anyone else probably would have ignored it, but Walter knew the sound of a lock being picked anywhere. Endless hours had been spent learning the exact same things. He knew the sound of a wrench being jiggled about in the lock waiting for all of the pins to align.

"Go get Dad and Father," Walter instructed. "I'll take care of this."

"Wally." Morgan's hands took Walter's wrist and Walter brushed Morgan's hand off easily.

"Trust me. Go get Dad and Father."

Morgan's footsteps padded through the house and Walter made his way down the staircase, keeping to the outside of the steps just as Will had told him so long ago. Silence was key. Walter hit the bottom of the stairs and looked at the front door for a moment. The windows' curtains were closed, but he could still see movement beyond them. There was more than one.

The door continued to click without success and Walter had to wonder if maybe the man was a new hand at picking locks or if he were missing the tension wrench which was undoubtedly the most important tool of the two to have. Whatever the reason, it gave Walter enough time to sneak into the kitchen and pick out a decent sized steak knife from the knife block. He angled his body at the door to be out of the way of the window, knife tight in hand and ready if he needed it.

Movement caught his eye and he glanced up at three people on the stairs. Hannibal followed Walter's lead and fetched a knife from the kitchen, whereas Will checked his gun to make sure it was loaded before putting it back in its holster on his hip. Guns were for emergencies. No noise, no trace.

Will then took Morgan's hand and guided Morgan towards the music room where Morgan could hide behind the couch. Will made his way into the kitchen where Hannibal waited and where a good portion of windows were. Windows that had all been cracked open wide enough for a person to enter through and that had left curtains blowing in the air.

The clicking at the door stilled until there was one final loud and echoing cick of the lock being turned. Walter's eyes stayed trained on the door handle as it turned. The door swung inward and the warm breeze from the night rolled into the house. Walter stayed still, listening to the person straighten themselves upright and put away their tools before taking a step inside of the house.

The boot was heavy and the leg attached to it was clad in dark and thick fabric. Walter held his breath, listening to the way his heart beat in his chest. It was easier to take care of bodies if they were inside of the house. The blood could be scrubbed away from tile rather than pressure washed off of concrete. He had to wait. Wait for the right moment to strike.

As soon as the entirety of the person came into view, Walter's arm shot out, taking the man's shoulder and the other driving the knife as far into the man's chest as he could. The movement wasn't as smooth as Walter would have liked, his knife jolting in his hand as it hit a metal barrier. It broke through easily enough, but the man had Walter on the ground in a moment in a tackle, straddling Walter's hips.

The knife was pulled from his ballistics vest came down over Walter who immediately put his arms up to block the onslaught. The cut was bright in the tear from the serrated edge. Walter threw his knee into the back of the man, knocking him off balance enough that Walter was able to pin the man to the floor. With slick hands, Walter snatched up the man's wrist and slammed it against the floor until the knife was knocked away before grappling for the blade.

In one fluid motion, Walter put the knife to the man's throat and pulled. It was messy, but it was quick and efficient. Even if it covered him in more liquid red, the job was done and he could focus on the rest of the house where more commotion was.

Walter's eyes turned to the kitchen where a man lay across the counter, his neck at an odd angle over the edge of it. Will was busy with someone on the staircase and Hannibal had his hands full with someone who looked like he had a rope now tied tight around his throat.

"Wally!" Morgan's voice called from the music room. Walter jumped to his feet and rushed into the room where Morgan was being hoisted up and over a man's shoulder. Morgan was kicking furiously, hands pulling at the man's hair for dear life. The man hissed, swatting at Morgan.

"You fucking brat! Stop that!"

Morgan's nails clawed at the man's face. "Wally!"

Blood trickled into the man's eyes from the scrape and he was unable to see the teen approaching. With one well placed punch to the gut, the man doubled over, dropping Morgan to the floor. Walter pulled Morgan to his feet and shoved Morgan out of the way before he stepped towards the man who had such striking similarities to Morgan even though his face was now mangled.

Icy blue eyes glared up at him and the man gasped, trying to catch his breath from the blow he received, but Walter didn't give him the chance. With another drive of his fist, Walter knocked the man to the floor, climbing over the top of him to find the same man who had been in the boat outside of Morgan's window earlier. His uncle.

Walter pushed the idea that he was killing something special to Morgan aside. There were two sides coming at him and both had the same weapons. One was lying and one was telling the truth and he had to pick a side. This was about preservation. This was about keeping Morgan safe. This was about keeping the only solid family he had ever known together. And that was the side he had picked and maybe the way his blood soaked fingers locked around the man's throat only reinforced the idea that he was a villain, but he couldn't stop.

The lines had become far too blurred and faded and he just had to push them aside. Force himself to keep the pressure on this man's neck. He had to ignore the nails that were coming for his eyes, that left matching gashes down his cheeks.

The man squirmed and kicked under Walter and Walter couldn't help but beg aloud. "Stop moving. Please stop moving." He added more pressure, wishing for the man's weakness to finally set in. He hated it. Fuck, he hated all of it. Hated the way that he could feel the man trying to breath and swallow under his palms. He hated how long it actually took to end someone this way. "Stop fucking moving."

Walter's eyes closed tightly and he held back the way his chest ached. A knife might have been personal, but this was so much worse. This was intimate. Eyes meeting eyes, fingers feeling the pulse fluttering to a final stop. But he couldn't stop. He couldn't release the pressure. Not until the clock ticked down. Anything less than five minutes and the man could come back. But those five minutes had to have been worse than any hell.

"Let me go!" a voice yelled and Walter had to resurface from his mind, the action groggy. He looked over his shoulder to where another man was grabbing at Morgan and dragging him from the room. Walter tried to get up, but a sharp pain to the back of his head knocked him to the ground. "Let go!" Morgan shouted, hands scrambling to grab onto anything that he could as he was once more thrown over someone's shoulder. The curtains he snatched up held firm in his hands, despite the blood that Walter had passed to them, until with a tug the rod came free from the wall and clattered to the ground. "No!"

He grabbed up fistfuls of the fabric of the man's shirt and tried to pull at it, but either the angle wasn't right or the man was stronger than Walter had been, because the man just continued his steady stride to the front door. Why was he so small? Why was he so tiny and young and weak? He couldn't even bring down Walter, what made him think that he could ever bring down a fully grown man?

"Hannibal! Will!" he called as the man stepped out into the night. He hoped that one of them had heard. Surely Walter had. Walter would come for him if none of the rest of them did.

There hadn't been any immediate panic until Morgan was lowered into a boat in the canal. His body froze as the boat rocked side to side and he did his best to try not to make the rocking worse as the man climbed in beside him. He wanted to scream, but the noise died in his throat. His muscles ached with how tightly they had clenched up and he was internally wondering why he had never learned how to swim, why he couldn't force himself to be more like Walter.

In a swift movement and the blur of something solid, the man was knocked from the boat and a splash seemed to bounce around Morgan's head. His heart lurched up into this throat as the boat rocked as if on a mighty sea and he was flung into the water.

He knew that what he needed to do was hold his breath and kick and he would find the surface, but his body didn't listen. It never did when it came to water. Instead, he opened his mouth, bubbles escaping as he let out a breath and sucked in nothing but a breath full of liquid. It burned, his chest wanting to explode with the pressure and the immediate image of his mothers flashed before his eyes.

He swore he could nearly make out the features of their faces before a strength wrapped around him and tugged him away from the faces that floated dreamily in that canal. The shock of the air sent a chill through Morgan as he was pulled from the canal and laid down on the sidewalk.

There were two faces over the top of him and some sort of pressure around his chest, but the distance was what caught his attention, fuzzy and drifting. Two men struggling in the water, forcing one another under the surface only to pop up once more. One that Morgan recognized but couldn't quite place.

Will continued his frantic wrestling in the canal, the man on top of him forcing him under the water, fingers around his throat, thumbs pressing deep into his windpipe. Bubbles exploded from Will's mouth as he fought desperately to wrench the hands from his throat, but the man's strength was wild and his was failing. He wasn't going to make it. He was going to drown and he would never know what happened to his family. If they were safe or injured.

Will's hands snatched at the man's thumbs and pried them from his throat. The thumbs were the weakest on the body. If he could just manage to get enough leverage then he would be free. With as much strength as he could find he snapped them. Left and right, snap, snap. Both broken.

Will was let go with a muffled scream. Will surfaced, gasping with arms flailing to try to steady himself. He had always considered himself a strong swimmer, but the ocean was far more forgiving than a person.

Then Will was back on top. He drove the man's head into the side of the fiberglass boat. Felt a crunch from the man's nose. He did it again. Another crunch and blood spurted into the water. He hit him again until the man was barely keeping himself afloat. Will forced the man's head under the water. He kicked, struggled, slipped from Will and surfaced.

Will was swift to snatch up his head once more and shove him below, both hands used to keep the man under. Bubbles streamed up to the surface and the man's arms and legs thrashed, but a bit slower now.

The struggles began to diminish. The stream of bubbles lessened. Will held him under a bit longer. As if in a final attempt to save himself, the man's arm burst from the water, fingers clawing at the summer air that seemed so much colder now. Then the arm went limp and flopped down with a splash.

Will felt the tension leave the man and the water calmed around them to the point where Will could see the man beneath the water, mouth open. A single bubble rolled out. It rose slowly and popped. Then another bubble, this one smaller. Then none at all. His face was relaxed. His arms were splayed out to his sides, floating loose in the water.

Will let him go and watched the body slip into the shadows. The body was certain to resurface, but at the moment Will didn't care. All he wanted to do was let the ache settle into his body and finally rest, but now wasn't the time. Especially not now that he could hear loud coughing and vomiting.

Will swam to the side of the canal, hoisted himself out of the water, stumbled over to a just as soaked Walter and Morgan and a dry Hannibal who was clutching Morgan tightly against his chest as the boy sobbed.

Will could see it now. His rash action forced Morgan into the water and Walter jumped in after the boy. He shoved the guilt down and let out a deep breath. He pushed his dripping curls from his eyes and licked his lips.

"We need to go. We can't stay here," he said, speaking the words that everyone knew into the night. "We don't have time to wait around." Walter nodded and forced himself to his feet, stumbled slightly and clutched a bleeding arm to his sopping wet shirt that was becoming a watery crimson color. Will's hand took the boy's shoulder. "Proud of you."

"Later," Walter said, breathing hard as his pain began to finally settle in. He walked back over to the house and disappeared inside for a moment, leaving Will to look over his mess.

"Will he be ok?" he asked as Hannibal got to his feet, still holding Morgan against him.

"We'll have to watch him tonight, make sure he doesn't have any issues, but I think he'll be ok," Hannibal explained. The sound of a boat engine caused both men to freeze and listen. There were no sirens. They might have been loud, but he didn't think that they had been loud enough to have the police called on them.

Walter rushed back out of the house with something floppy in his hand and he nodded in the direction of their planned route of escape. "Let's get the hell out of here," he said strongly, causing his parents to nod in agreement and start down the walk.

The boat engine grew closer, louder and the moment the dark shape rounded a corner coming towards them, a gunshot rang out through the night followed by the clipping of bullet to stone. The four ducked into an alley, the gunfire following them. It didn't take long for rushed footsteps to chase after them as well.

"Go," Walter instructed from the back of the group.

"What?" Will demanded, glancing over his shoulder towards the teen whose voice was far more determined than he liked.

"Someone needs to hold them off or they will keep following us. You go and keep Morgan safe."

"No." Will came to a halt and turned back to Walter, checking the alley first to make certain they still had ample time to run. "We aren't splitting up."

"Will you get Morgan somewhere safe before we all get caught?" Walter argued.

"They boy's right," Hannibal agreed. "They'll keep following us like when we left Germany."

"I am not leaving-"

"I'll be fine," Walter assured with a cocky side grin. "Remember who raised me, Dad."

"Wally," a voice croaked as the footfall gained. Walter stepped over to where Morgan was held and pressed his bunny into the boy's hand. "You said that you would come with us."

"Take care of yourself Einstein." Walter took a few large steps back, shoes sloshing with excess water still trapped in them. "Get out of here, will ya?"

Before Will could argue, Hannibal's hand snatched out and took his wrist, holding him in place as he watched his oldest disappear back around a corner and into a hail of gunfire. Will's want to run towards the noise was overpowered by a drag of his wrist, Hannibal still far stronger than Will could ever hope to be.

A body far larger than Walter's turned the corner and the three of them broke into a run once more. Will's clothes hung on him, dripping water and feeling heavier the further they went with another set of footfalls trailing behind them.

"Left!" Will called out and Hannibal obeyed the order, Will catching the side of the building to make the sharp turn, before coming to a stop to face whoever it was that had chased after them. He knew this alley. He knew these streets. He knew exactly where construction on an older house falling into the canals was and it wouldn't take long for the hunter to know that too.

The moment the figure rounded the corner, Will reached out, grabbing the man's arm and tugged. The man's momentum shot him in the exact direction that Will picked and with a sickening sound of meat being speared, it was over. The footsteps had stopped as had the gunfire and all that was left was a man impaled on some exposed rebar.

His sounds of agony were sharp behind teeth, but even if he did manage to get himself off of his mount, Will doubted he would make it much further. Will took a step back, watching as the man's hands tried to grip the bar and push himself up only for his body to fall back down.

"Love, come along. We have several more hours to go," Hannibal beckoned. Will nodded and turned, following Hannibal through the winding passages of Venice.