Morgan stared up at the dark ceiling, listening to Walter's slow and level breathing and trying hard not to move so that he wouldn't hurt Walter's knee. He couldn't seem to find sleep and he blamed the medicine that he had taken earlier that day to be the cause of it.

Outside Morgan could hear the city life still running rampant with people talking, boats passing by their villa and that only made it that much more difficult to try to relax. He hadn't been lying. The city sounds were annoying on a good day and hard to tune out.

"Shut up," Walter grumbled, breathing coming back to life. He turned in his bed and Morgan was snatched up and pulled against him like a stuffed animal.

"I didn't say anything," Morgan argued, adjusting himself to Walter's tight embrace.

"You were thinking and it's loud." Walter nuzzled his face into Morgan's neck and Morgan shivered over the warm breath that brushed against his skin.

"One can't really stop thinking, can one?" Morgan asked back innocently and there was a hot snort of laughter against his neck. Walter shook his head with a yawn, somehow pulling Morgan even closer. Morgan gave a small sigh. "I thought you didn't like sleeping in the same bed."

"Stop talking," Walter ordered slowly, one hand playing with Morgan's hair, the other brushing up and down the length of Morgan's forearm. "Tonight's different."

"Why is tonight different? I sleep with you every night. What could have possibly-" the rest of his sentence was muffled as Walter's hand clapped over his mouth and there was another chuckle from Walter.

"Just go to sleep, will you? I'm tired." Walter sighed as Morgan tried to speak again under Walter's hand. "Smart ass," he muttered as he pulled his hand back.

"I was forced to sleep all day."

"You were-" Walter gave another yawn, the breath tickling Morgan's hair against his neck. "-sleeping all day? What about school?"

"It was school," Morgan whispered, carefully trying to push at Walter's body to release its hold. Even with the AC that Will had installed, the summer heat was in the room and Walter's skin always ran hot as if it were ablaze with flames. "Wally, let go."

Walter shook his head, strong arms clutching even tighter to the struggling boy. "You hold onto me every night, it's only fair that you return the favor."

"It's hot," Morgan mumbled, once more trying to pull from Walter's grip. He stopped struggling when Walter dutifully pulled the blanket off them, cool air rushing over Morgan's skin. He sighed and once more relaxed into Walter's grip, knowing he didn't have the chance to escape if Walter didn't want him to.

"Why was sleeping a school assignment? Maybe I should have stayed homeschooled."

"Father thinks I should gain a tolerance to drugs."

Walter gave a snort and shook his head. "That's stupid," he mumbled. "No one would dare try to drug you."

"Why not?"

"You're not one of those partying types of people. You wouldn't go getting yourself into trouble on purpose."

"Partying?" Morgan asked curiously.

"Yeah." Walter pushed himself up onto his elbow, sleep most likely gone. He gave Morgan a small smile. "You know, like ones that Gatsby would throw."

"Those are real?" Morgan asked, eyes widening and putting a smile into Walter's face.

"Kind of. Not exactly like those, but they exist," Walter explained. "You have to pay to go to some of them. And they aren't classy like Gatsby's. They're full of druggies and criminals and sluts."

"Slut?" Morgan tipped his head to the side.

"Uh..." Walter bit his bottom lip. "It's someone who..." He sighed. "Someone who tries to take physical advantages of someone else."

"Physical? Are we sluts?"

Walter burst into bright laughter and fell back into the bed. Morgan's hand rested itself over Walter's chest to feel the rumbling movement.

"No," Walter whispered. "No. Physical, like sexual."

"Sexual," Morgan repeated, tasting the world. "What does that mean?"

Walter's laughing stopped and he glanced back down at Morgan who had curled up against his side. His fingers found Morgan's hair and played with it.

"You might be a little young for that."

"Why does everyone always say that?" Morgan's tone was bitter. "I've killed someone, I'm not a child."

Walter's movements froze as he took in the boy's truth. "You might be a little young for this," Walter tried once more, only getting an annoyed huff from the boy.

"I'm old enough to learn how to properly set a bone, forge signatures on documents, clean up DNA from a room and obtain a tolerance to drugs, but I'm not old enough to learn what that word means?" Morgan grumbled, turning away from Walter. The bed shifting made Walter hiss in pain as his knee moved with the mattress. "I'm old enough to shoot a gun and learn where to most effectively cut open a person with a knife, but I'm not old enough to-"

"Kid, stop," Walter grumbled with a pained breath.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to hit your knee." Morgan glanced over his shoulder and his eyes held a worried shine. Walter shook his head and carefully turned away from Morgan, hands folded over his bare chest as he stared up at the ceiling. "Please tell me, Wally."

Walter chewed on his cheek for a moment before his head tipped to the side to look over Morgan. "Father and Dad would kill me if I told you. I'm sure they'd rather tell you."

"Did they tell you?"

Walter's brows furrowed in disgust, and he shook his head. "No. God. I kinda already knew, but they taught me in one of my classes at school. I hope our parents never do. I don't know if I could handle that."

That seemed to pull Morgan's interest up another notch because he turned back towards Walter and his hand rested on Walter's chest to hold him up to look down onto Walter's face. Walter blinked up at him for a moment and sighed.

"Kid, please just go to sleep."

"Tell me," Morgan pushed. "I want to know."

"I'm sure you could find it in some textbooks of Father's if you searched hard enough." Walter closed his eyes with a deep breath and settled further into the bed. "Stop asking. I'm tired."

"Wally," Morgan said sternly. When Walter didn't answer, Morgan frowned. His hand turned to a fist and he lightly hit at Walter's chest. "Wally, stop that." There was still no answer or movement. "Wally, I know you're not sleeping." As if on cue, Walter let out a snore that was rather overly dramatic and only caused Morgan to groan. "Wally, I mean it. Tell me or I'm going to tell Dad."

Walter's lips ticked up into a smile and he opened one eye to look over Morgan before closing it again. "And what exactly are you planning on telling Dad?"

"That you were looking at bad pictures in those magazines," Morgan said sharply and he could see the small crease between Walter's brows.

"What pictures?" he challenged back.

"From the magazines you keep under your mattress," Morgan answered coolly, watching the discomfort cross Walter's face.

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"They have to be bad or you wouldn't hide them." Morgan's reasoning was spot on and Walter's nose scrunched up. "I'll tell Dad about them if you don't explain what sexually means."

Walter's eyes opened and he glared at Morgan. "You wouldn't dare."

"Wouldn't I?"

Walter's eyes flickered over Morgan in disbelief for a moment before he sighed with a roll of his eyes. "You're not supposed to use manipulation against me, you know," he grumbled, pushing himself upright to lean against the wall and causing Morgan to sit up with a smug smile. He crossed his legs and waited patiently, eyes on Walter. "It's meant for people outside of the family."

"Consider this practice then."

Walter frowned. "Sexual means..." His eyes went to the ceiling in thought and Morgan sat silently beside him, though there was an eager buzz around him that he normally got when he was learning something new. "It has to do with activities involving intimate physical contact between two people."

"Can you use it in a sentence?" Morgan's head tipped to the side and received a raised brow from Walter.

"This isn't a spelling bee, kid."

"I bet that Dad would love to know about the way you-"

"Alright," Walter quickly interrupted. "Alright. Alright. I find women sexually attractive."

Morgan's brows rose lightly and he blinked. "It means you like someone."

"It can."

"So when a slut is being sexual, they just like you."

"No."

Morgan frowned, frustration clear on his face. "You're not making any sense."

"I don't want to tell you, Einstein, but you're kinda holding me hostage here!" Walter shot back before sighing deeply, head tipping back against the wall. "I can't give you a whole anatomy lesson tonight. Please don't make me. It's just going to be awkward."

"Why? Anatomy isn't awkward."

Walter sighed. "Look. There are things that a man and a woman can do with each other that are physically pleasurable and it works better if you think they're physically pretty to look at. So you don't have to like the person, you just have to like what they look like."

"A man and a woman?" Morgan tipped his head to the side.

"Yes," Walter replied with a small nod. "A man and a woman."

"Can...?" Morgan's nose scrunched up and his head tipped back in the other direction, deep in thought. "Just a man and a woman?"

"I guess not," Walter whispered, shifting uncomfortably. He didn't like the direction this was going. When Morgan had to know about something, he had to know every last thing about something, down to the very last detail.

"Because, my moms loved each other, didn't they?"

Walter frowned and gave a small nod. "I'm sure they did," he agreed.

"So, they could have made each other-"

"Yes," Walter interrupted quickly, trying to get Morgan through the subject as swiftly as possible. "Yes, they could."

"And what about men?"

"What about men?" Walter asked, shifting once more to the edge of the bed.

"Well, Dad and Father-"

"Them too," Walter said with a small groan. "Kid, please drop it. Please."

"Wally, can I ask you something?"

Walter sighed loudly, trying to show Morgan just how annoying he was being. "You're already asking me things, might as well."

"Is it..." Morgan trailed off and his eyes dropped down to his hands in his lap. "Is it normal for a boy to like a boy?"

Walter shrugged with a roll of his eyes, but stopped when he looked closer at Morgan. His head was lowered and a blush was over his cheeks. His fingers fidgeted and his body was stiff.

Oh.

"Who do you like, Einstein?" Walter asked, letting a smile come to his face. He reached out a hand to ruffle Morgan's hair.

"No one," Morgan whispered, reaching up to try to stop Walter's hand. "Wally, knock it off."

"Tell me!" Walter pushed, letting his hand fall back to his lap. This was a far safer conversation than sex was. He could play with this. "Who do you have a crush on?"

"Wally," Morgan grumbled. "Stop."

"Not until you tell me," Walter said, reaching out and poking Morgan in the side. Morgan jumped with a small squeak and a glare. "Tell me."

Morgan rolled his eyes and sighed. "Nonna Pia has a grandson that came to visit this afternoon. I was still mostly out of it, but... I liked him. Or liked how he looked."

"What was his name?"

Morgan's brow scrunched up. "I don't remember." Morgan's face relaxed and he gave a small shrug. "But he had this really curly blonde hair and these blue eyes that were pretty."

Walter gave a small smile and reached out a hand to once more ruffle Morgan's hair that was certainly going to be cut soon. It was getting far longer than what Hannibal liked it at, something about giving an assailant less to grab onto, despite the fact that he and Will kept their hair decently long.

"We'll have to ask what his name is the next time we go over there." Walter grinned. "Won't we?"

Another blush came to Morgan's cheeks. "That's not weird?"

"No," Walter assured softly. "Not at all."

"But David called Dad and Father-"

"I know what he called them and it wasn't ok. You can like or not like whoever you want. There's nothing wrong with you liking a boy or a girl or whatever's in between."

"Between?" Morgan questioned.

"Another time," Walter assured. "I promise I'll explain more another time."

"But Wally-"

"Lay down and let's try to sleep, alright? You might not be tired, but I am and we need to be up for school soon."

Morgan gave a small nod and repositioned himself in the bed as Walter had instructed. Walter lowered himself back down and sighed, eyes closing and hands once more folded over his chest.

"We're both getting a little old for this, don't you think?" Walter asked. Morgan kept his attention to the wall he faced, silent. "You don't have nightmares anymore. Shouldn't you sleep in your own bed?"

"You have nightmares though," Morgan muttered. "And I know how you get with nightmares."

"I'm sure I can handle my nightmares on my own. You need to sleep in your own bed tomorrow."

"Tonight?"

Morgan jumped as he was once more snatched up and pulled against Walter. "I told you that tonight was different," Walter reminded softly, breath hot against the back of Morgan's neck. "I need something good to distract from what happened today."

"And I'm something good?" Morgan found himself asking, shocked at the kind thing that Walter had said. Walter was always kind, but his words were normally double sided and harsher.

"When you're not being annoying."

Morgan felt a small smile pull at his lips. That was a bit more like it. A bit more like Walter. A bit more than the distant body that had taken over Walter since they had moved from Germany.

He let his hand tangle with Walter's and he closed his eyes. "What was so bad about today?"

"I got in a fight at school. I'll be home for the next few days."

"You will?" Morgan asked, unable to hide his excitement.

"I'm going to try to work on your tree house."

"You will?!" Morgan squirmed until he was facing Walter who had a tired smile on his face. Walter hummed in answer and Morgan couldn't stop the grin from covering his face. "Thank you, Wally."

Walter's eyes flickered open at a kiss against his cheek. He glanced down at the boy who hid himself against Walter's chest.

"Your own bed tomorrow," Walter muttered, closing his eyes once more.

"This is bullshit," Walter hissed between his teeth. Morgan looked up from the work he was doing, to find Walter gulping down some water and leaning against his shovel for balance as the hole they stood in was slowly beginning to reach up to Walter's knees. "Fucking bullshit."

"Why?" Morgan asked curiously, wiping the sweat from his head and wandering over to Walter who held out the water bottle. Morgan took it and sucked down the cool liquid.

"Why do you just go along with whatever they tell you to do, huh?" Walter shot back, sitting on the edge of the hole they were digging out in the middle of some field in some random part of Italy. "You never question what they say. Never try to use your head. You just blindly follow."

"They've never done anything to us, Wally." Morgan set the bottle of water aside. "I'm not sure what it is you're trying to say."

"Would you use your brain for once, Einstein?" Walter rolled his eyes and spit into the hole that was being dug. "This isn't some punishment."

"What is it then?" Morgan made his way back over to his side of the hole and started digging again.

Walter followed suit, but at a bad twist, his knee gave way and he fell into the dirt with a cry. Morgan dropped his shovel and rushed over to Walter who was clutching to his knee with a clenched jaw and a panting breath.

"Wally, are you alright?" Morgan lowered himself to his knees and glanced over the child in the dirt. He reached out a hand but pulled it back swiftly at Walter's biting order through tight teeth.

"Don't touch me!"

Morgan once more looked over Walter, trying to figure out exactly what to do. "Dad told you to be careful. Not to over work yourself. You should rest, Wally."

"I hate this!" Walter nearly screamed and Morgan's eyes widened. He had seen Walter show emotion before, normally hidden away in his room at night when he had nightmares, but a frightened terror was different than full on anger. "I fucking hate this! All of it!" A fist connected with the dirt several times, sending small bits of brown to scatter. "I miss Wolf Trap. I want my mom!"

There was a sob and Morgan stared as the kid who had always been so strong, always been so safe and the better of the two of them crumbled into a crying mess. His tears ran down his cheeks and mixed with the dirt on his cheeks to make tracks of mud.

"I want my mom," Walter whispered, breath caught in his chest, stuttering. Morgan sat helpless beside Walter, entirely unsure of what to do. With a small hand, Morgan reached out and gently brushed his fingers through Walter's short hair. "I want my mom."

"It's ok, Wally," Morgan whispered, hand continuing to push at the dirt covered locks. "You rest and I'll keep digging. Father and Dad will be back soon with some lunch and Father can look over your knee."

"I don't want to keep digging." Walter inhaled shakily and one of his hands left his knee to wipe at the mud on his cheeks. "I meant it. Use your brain. Why are we digging?"

Morgan was quiet as he continued to pet at Walter's hair. His mind thought over what Will had instructed them to do while Hannibal waited at the road for Will to return to his side. Will had given them measurements of how big to dig the hole and Morgan wasn't sure why it hadn't occurred to him before.

His hand stopped and he blinked as the information set into him and now he understood exactly what Walter meant about questioning everything that their parents did. There was reasoning behind all of it and normally it was explained to Morgan after he had obeyed, so he hadn't thought too much about this particular task. Will and Hannibal always gave them weird tasks to complete.

"They're making us dig a grave," Morgan muttered, feeling like the air had been sucked from his lungs. "Why?"

Walter sat up with a deep breath, once more wiping at his cheeks, his breathing far more even. "Why do you think?"

Morgan paled and he curled his knees into his chest. He hid his face into his knees, the summer heat no longer a bother as a chill ran through him.

"Look," Morgan whispered. "I'm not stupid. I know what they do when they go out. I've known for a long time, Wally." Morgan slowly glanced up to find a curious look on Walter's face. "It's not difficult to put two and two together."

"Are you asking if we're digging them a grave for one of their kills?" Walter asked softly. Morgan's eyes widened as his suspicions were finally confirmed, something heavy fixing itself to his chest. He licked his lips with a small nod, hands clutching tightly to his legs. "They wouldn't be stupid enough to bury one of their kills." Walter winced as he sat up more fully. One of his hands still held to the bandaging of his knee. "Are you ok? You look pale."

"Fine," Morgan dismissed quickly, willing his stomach to untwist. "If it's not for one of their kills, then what's it for?"

"Us."

Morgan felt his blood turn icy and a panic set in, causing his heart to race. Walter's face turned from something pained to worry.

"No!" he quickly corrected. "Einstein, not like that. You're right. They wouldn't do anything to hurt us."

"If they aren't-"

"It's a test. I wouldn't be surprised if they drugged us again." Walter gave a small shrug. "But you should be getting better with that, shouldn't you?"

"I..." Morgan trailed off with a small sigh, looking at the dirt under his shoes. "It's only been a few days. I'm not anywhere near a tolerance yet. I can pick out a lot of chemicals now though."

"That's a good start," Walter assured with a kind smile. "I'm sorry I yelled at you."

Morgan gave a small shrug. "You really should be resting. You shouldn't be on that knee right now."

"I'm sure it's just God trying to teach me a lesson."

Morgan tipped his head to the side. "Do you believe in God, Wally?"

There was a snort from Walter and the teen shook his head. "Not even a little bit." Morgan was silent, looking over the sweaty, dirty boy whose golden eyes still held mild discomfort in them. "Not after everything that he's done to me."

They were quiet for another moment or two and Walter sighed, reaching for his shovel and using it to hoist himself from the dirt and to his feet. His hand took the edge of the hole and he sat down, letting his head rest in his hands.

Morgan got back to his feet too and stopped at a car that was pulling up to the field they were in. Morgan's head tipped to the side as he watched Will and Hannibal step from the car, pulling from the backseat what looked like a blanket and a picnic basket.

"They're back," Morgan whispered. "Why did they make us walk all the way out here if they were going to go rent a car?"

"Probably to tire us out," Walter replied, looking up from his hands. "They'll expect us to not be on our guards."

"You really think they'll drug the food again?" Morgan questioned, taking Walter's outstretched hand to help pull him from the hole, sitting beside Walter.

"Just don't eat anything unless Will or Hannibal eats it first."

"That didn't work for the soup."

Walter gave a small smile and ruffled at Morgan's hair. "Go help them. I'll be over in a bit."

Morgan nodded and got to his feet, turning and making his way through the tall green grass over to Hannibal and Will. He reached out and took the blanket from Will's grip, Will's now free hand immediately going to Morgan's head to caress it in the way that it always did. Morgan didn't find that he could often connect to Will. There wasn't much between them for him to clasp to, but at least he knew Will cared about him. The little touches were what showed him that. Almost reminded him of the way one of his moms would touch him. Just a little something to remind Morgan that they were there.

"Wally hurt his knee," Morgan muttered. "Fell over."

"Will, would you and kleiner hase set up lunch, please? I'll check on the boy."

Will took the basket from Hannibal's hand and watched as his husband stepped away through the field and to where the very top of their son's head could be seen above the grass. Morgan followed Will over to where a fig tree stood, one of its rather large branches being supported with a wooden post to keep the tree from falling under its own weight.

Morgan made quick work of setting out the blanket and made sure to keep his eye on Will once both of them were sitting down in the shade of the fig tree. Will pulled items from the basket. Some olives, grapes, apricots and peaches. Then some cheese and bread and some nuts. Something nice and light. Nothing made by Hannibal. Nothing that put Morgan directly on edge.

Will opened the small bag of almonds and ate a few before holding the bag out to Morgan. Morgan slowly reached out a hand to take the offering, munching on a few of the almonds, but not daring to touch anything else until either one of their parents did. And the almonds tasted fine. There was nothing inherently wrong with them.

That was a breath of air. Morgan was tired of the way that food had been tasting off lately. Entirely too salty or bitter. And he absolutely hated the way his head felt completely foggy when he woke up.

Morgan looked up to find Hannibal slowly making their way towards them, supporting a wobbling Walter. Walter was rested on the blanket beside Morgan and Morgan held out the bag of almonds to the boy. Walter looked over the bag carefully before taking it and eating a single almond.

Hannibal took a seat beside Will and Morgan couldn't help but smile at the odd sight. It wasn't often that Morgan saw Hannibal wear anything other than his best suits. It had to have been a shield for the man, or some sort of comfort, Morgan had reasoned. But today Hannibal was in light pants and a short sleeved, white canvas button up shirt that would have helped keep the heat off of him.

Of course the clothes were odd, but they held nothing over the fact that Hannibal sat on the ground with the three of them. Morgan had never known the man to do more than kneel when speaking to one of them before he was once more back on his feet. Even when Will would join them on the ground in the backyard, Hannibal would stand or stay in a chair on the porch. He never fully engaged.

"Walter, we're going to take a look over your knee when we get home. It shouldn't be buckling like that. I would hate for you to have torn something," Hannibal announced, reaching out for the loaf of bread to pull a chunk from it. Morgan waited for the food to touch Hannibal's lips before he reached out for the bread and ripped off a small piece for himself, handing it to Walter when he was done.

"Yes, sir," Walter answered with a nod, passing the loaf to Will when he was finished tearing off his piece.

"You boys seem like you've made good progress," Will said with a grin, a hand reaching out to brush dirt from Morgan's cheeks. "You definitely look like you've made some progress."

Morgan didn't pull from Will's grip, something gentle in the touch while those blue water eyes kept Morgan at bay. He could never read Will exactly. Walter seemed to have the power to read minds. It boggled Morgan in the same way that Will's abilities boggled him. He could read Hannibal a little easier, but, once more, was nothing like Walter.

Morgan could recall the lesson in vivid detail. A lesson that Will had given in their classroom rather than out in nature. A lesson where they were instructed to clear their minds, end all of their internal monologue and to stick themselves into another person's skin. Sink deep into the other person's essence, let the other person wash over them until they could embody that other person.

Morgan had tried. He really had. He had tried to suppress his own emotional responses enough to feel another's. He had tried to silence his own thoughts to take in another's. He had tried to listen fully and completely. Tried to read a person's nonverbal cues, their body language, and their poster to understand their emotions, but Morgan just couldn't seem to quite grasp it to the same depth that Walter had been able to.

That wasn't to say that he couldn't see things or read people. He absolutely could. He could read the distrust off Walter as if Walter were shouting through a blow horn. He could see the way that Will looked a little uncomfortable. Nothing to the extent that he had the night that they had eaten that soup, but the same sickly paleness was over his cheeks. And Hannibal was as put together as he always was, shell a little thicker than normal. He always closed off a bit more when they were learning something important that could injure them, and he didn't want to be emotionally involved.

Morgan looked back to the car curiously. Why did his parents need a car? They didn't care much for them. Didn't use them unless they were taking a long trip. There was no use for them when they lived right on the water. Even in Germany, Hannibal had only used a car to get to work. They walked everywhere else they possibly needed.

Would you use your brain for once, Einstein?

If it's not for one of their kills, then what's it for?

Us.

"Is there a coffin in the car?" Morgan asked, calling everyone's eyes to him and causing him to feel rather small. Hannibal's mouth ticked into a smile and Will's hands stilled in grabbing some grapes. Walter on the other hand looked rather unimpressed, as if he had known all along. "Is there?"

"Yes," Hannibal replied with a small nod.

"Did you drug the food?" Morgan asked, nose scrunched up in dislike.

"Have I drugged the food?" Hannibal asked back, brows raised in question.

"No," Morgan answered softly. "You want us awake the whole time."

"This is as much about controlling anxieties and phobias as it is about knowing what to do if you find yourself in this predicament," Hannibal explained simply.

"When are we ever going to use this?" Walter asked out under his breath with a roll of his eyes.

"Being buried alive is not something that we foresee in the future," Will answered softly, a hand reaching out to rest on Walter's uninjured knee. Morgan watched curiously. Will really had gotten better with touching. Morgan could remember the first few months together where Will was as reclusive as rural Ireland. He stayed far away from Morgan, but Morgan didn't find it terribly horrible. Walter was always there beside him and Hannibal was kind. "What your father and I are wanting to know is where your threshold for anxiety inducing situations lie. You both handled yourselves well enough in Germany, but this will show us how you handle the smaller things that are more likely to happen."

"Smaller things," Morgan muttered, tasting the words. He looked down at the blanket and played with a loose thread. "Like small spaces and limited oxygen."

"Like small spaces and limited oxygen," Hannibal agreed. "We'll finish digging the hole and Walter will go first."

Morgan glanced over to Walter whose shoulders had stiffened up exponentially. Morgan could feel the guilt turn his stomach, the asiago not sitting very well anymore. Walter always had to go first. Walter was always the guinea pig, the test subject, the one who had to be strong.

I want my mom!

Morgan hadn't heard that complaint from Walter since Pennsylvania. Not even when Walter woke from whatever demons plagued him at night did he call out for his mother. Morgan wasn't even sure if he knew Walter's mother's name.

"I could go-"

"No," Will interrupted with a gentle smile, brushing back a curl that the warm summer breeze had blown into his face. "Walter will go first and teach you exactly what he did."

"I can figure it out," Morgan pressed, calling surprised golden eyes to him. "Really. I can go first."

"When you're older," Hannibal offered in his normally calm tone with the same excuse that he used for everything. The same excuse that everyone used for everything. When you're older. You're too young for that. Maybe in a few years.

"I'm not a child," Morgan argued with a frown.

"You're six," Walter huffed out. "A child is exactly what you are."

Morgan growled and shot Walter a dark look. He didn't need Walter to always protect him. He was going to go through the same exact thing that Walter was, why did he have to go second?

"I always have a reason, kleiner hase," Hannibal called out, causing Morgan's face to soften as he regarded the older man. "Why would I need your brother to go first in this?"

Morgan could feel the bitten back words from Walter, the normal argument that they were not brothers, would never be brothers, they were simply friends. Best friends that got to live together. Never, absolutely ever brothers. But the words stayed behind bitten lips and Morgan was left to answer Hannibal's question.

"Are we going to be nailed into the coffin?" Morgan questioned, once more picking at the thread in the blanket. He saw Hannibal nod in his peripherals. "You need Walter to go first so that the strength in his legs is enough to help him get out and he's going to break the wood so that it'll be easier for me to get out when it comes to it."

"Very good," Hannibal praised. He cleared his throat and rose to his knees. "Walter, would you help your Dad pick up lunch? Morgan, you and I will continue digging while Walter rests."

"Ok," Morgan answered, getting to his feet and starting off through the tall grass that he could barely see over. He could hear Hannibal following behind him, but he didn't stop until he had jumped back into the hole and gathered up his shovel again. "You really don't think we'll be buried alive, do you?"

Hannibal lowered himself into the hole as well, his light colored shoes immediately dirty. Hannibal picked up Walter's shovel and began working. His eyes flickered up to Morgan and Morgan quickly started digging again.

"No," was Morgan's answer. "I don't expect you to have to deal with something of the sort. This is simply an exercise that we might revisit."

"How often will we revisit it?" Morgan hesitantly asked, pausing in his work to look at the larger amount of progress that Hannibal had been making than he could.

"Until you are able to accomplish the task without issues."

That was another of Hannibal's favorite answers. Morgan knew it like the back of his hand. They worked until they got it right. They worked for perfection. They worked not until they got it right, but until they couldn't get it wrong. That was how it had always been from the beginning and that's exactly how it would be going forward.

"Wally said he got in a fight," Morgan muttered, trying to change the conversation away from the gloom that it held. "Did he hurt someone? Is that why he's home?"

"Yes. He hurt someone."

"I'm sure the kid deserved it." The words made Hannibal pause, but Morgan kept working, trying his best to dig in the dirt that was starting to become decently rocky.

"What gives you that impression?"

"Wally's too nice to do something mean like that without a reason." Morgan gave a small shrug. "The kid must have done something wrong."

"Very intuitive, Morgan."