Morgan left the bathroom, changing spots with Walter so that Walter could shower away the stickiness of the sweat from the day. Morgan ran his fingers through his damp waves, finding it too hot to pull on his shirt. He tossed his shirt and sleep pants aside, settling for just his boxers and snatched up his new book that was beside his Marcus Aurelius book.

He opened the window and let the sound of the city into the hotel room that was just as stifling as it was outside. There was no breeze, the only thing keeping Morgan cool was the remnants of his cold shower.

He settled himself in the corner of the window seat, ready to indulge himself in a bit of reading before the evening was spent. The binding creaked, its spine ached with age and use. Morgan's eyes widened, surprised when bright orange fell across his chest and into his lap.

Sunflower petals had been pressed between the pages that he had hardly been able to make a dent in that day. He leaned his head back against the wall and placed the book over his eyes, allowing its knowledge to press gently against his eyelids.

A smile crept across his lips and the air grew thick with a tenderness that couldn't help but make him breathe slower, deeper, happier. He plucked a single petal into his fingers, feeling the silky texture for a moment before he sat up, the book long forgotten.

Morgan slowly scooped all the petals back up and placed them kindly between the pages to allow the poetry to sink into the flowers that Walter had no doubt snatched up while at the Eiffel Tower, though Morgan wasn't entirely sure when Walter had had the time.

Morgan placed the book aside and moved over to one of the beds, sinking down into it, letting the light ache fill his muscles from all the walking he had done that day. Sleep pulled at him, but the heat of the room made it impossible to give into the influences.

The sound of the shower turned off and Morgan opened a single eye when the bathroom door opened. Walter left the room; a towel being used to dry off his hair. He tossed the towel to a corner and Morgan sat up a bit more with a roll of his eyes.

"I'll pick it up later," Walter defended.

"I didn't say anything," Morgan muttered, stretching out with a small whine.

"You forget that I know you, Einstein. Better than others."

"You're the only one who knows me, Wally." Morgan sighed and sat up fully, pulling a pillow to him and cuddling it to his chest. Walter sat on the edge of the bed and Morgan tipped his head curiously. Walter had been so distant the day before, made sure everything between them was separated and now... Walter was making himself comfortable. He lay across the bed, head beside Morgan's knee. "Why did you grow out your hair?" Morgan asked, hand reaching out to play with the damp locks without a thought.

Walter's eyes closed with a sigh. "Does it look bad?"

"No."

Walter gave a small smile and Morgan flushed, grateful that those sunny eyes didn't open to tease him.

"To get under father's skin. I'm surprised he let yours get as long as it is."

Morgan's fingers continued to work through Walter's dark hair, pulling tangles from it. "I told him that it wasn't fair that dad got to keep his hair long and I couldn't."

Walter snorted and his eyes opened. "And he let you get away with that?"

"No," Morgan grumbled. "He made me do the dishes."

Walter made a horrified sort of sound, his words dripping sarcasm. "Not the dishes."

"Hand wash the dishes in the whole kitchen, whether they were dirty or not," Morgan clarified.

"China too?"

Morgan nodded. "Dad got home from fishing and threw a fit. There were dishes drying everywhere I could find to put them. Teacups on the floor, silverware on the couch. It was awful."

Walter shook his head. "I didn't see you as someone who would mouth off to father." There was a soft sigh as Morgan tugged at Walter's hair. Walter's eyes fluttered shut and he licked his lips. Morgan couldn't stop the smile that pulled at the corner of his lips. "I've missed you. Missed this."

"This?" Morgan asked curiously. Walter nodded, tipping his head into the pull Morgan had against his hair. "This what?"

"Us."

"Us?"

"Us," Walter agreed with a small nod. "I haven't seen you in so long. You're so different."

"Different in a good way, I hope," Morgan whispered.

"You've grown up."

"You've been calling me a child all day," Morgan argued with a roll of his eyes that made Walter laugh.

"You'll always be a kid in my eyes. I am older."

"Asshole. I'm not a child." Morgan pulled his hand from Walter's hair and smacked across Walter's bare chest. Walter snorted and snatched up Morgan's hand, holding it to his chest. "Let go."

"Or what, big man?" Walter teased, pulling Morgan's hand, and dragging the younger down and off balance enough that Morgan tumbled into the bed beside Walter. "What are you going to do?"

"Slit your throat," Morgan grumbled, though there was still a smile on Morgan's lips as he tried to straighten himself back up. Walter bit his lip as a sharp heat pooled down in his gut, something that he was so familiar with and because it was for Morgan, he swallowed it down. He closed his eyes, willing the stirring to dissipate. "I wouldn't actually hurt you, Wally."

"What?" Walter asked in a struggling voice, eyes flickering open.

"I was teasing. I wasn't going to-"

"You couldn't, even if you wanted to," Walter taunted, letting Morgan's hand go. That was safe. Rude was safe. Playing, teasing was safe. Touching wasn't safe. It was the farthest thing from safe. Walter just had to ignore it. Always ignore. From now, until the end of time.

"What do you mean I couldn't?" Morgan demanded with a frown. Mad was safe.

"Oh, please. Einstein." Walter scoffed and rolled his eyes. "You couldn't hurt a fly."

"Fuck off, Walter."

"Precisely," Walter whispered, clasping both hands on his bare chest and closing his eyes with a small sigh. "See? You couldn't-" The words died as Morgan's light body straddled his hips and Walter winced at the heat it sent south against his will. "Morgan," he muttered, hands taking Morgan's hips, trying to push Morgan from him, but Morgan held firm. Morgan's hands took Walter's neck and applied a light pressure to it. "Get off."

"Why?" Morgan challenged. "I'm not a fucking child and I'm not weak."

"Yes, you are."

There was pain in Morgan's face, but before he could retort, Walter's phone went off from the bedside table. "Tell your girlfriend hi," Morgan muttered, rolling off Walter and draping a pillow over his face in an attempt to hide from Walter, when he knew better. He could never hide from Walter. Walter would always know him, always see him.

"It's father," Walter's voice said, hurt somewhere in the tone. "Hello." Morgan pushed the pillow from over his face for a moment and sighed when Walter lay back beside him, phone on speaker. "What's up?"

"We're going to be a bit longer than we thought," Hannibal answered, voice cracking up across the line. "We might not be back until tomorrow night. We thought we would just check in on you two."

"We're fine. Long day," Walter answered.

"Yeah. Walter's a pussy when it comes to heights," Morgan threw out and Walter scowled.

"Behave, young man," Hannibal scolded with a tired sigh. "Did you both have a good day?"

"The best," Walter replied, though there was something not exactly truthful in the words and Morgan's brows furrowed as he looked over Walter's face. Had it been that bad of a day? There had been tension in it, sure, but there was always tension between them. That's what came with their conversations. They had always been a push and pull and Morgan had just figured it had to do with the types of conversations they could hold between them. Things far deeper than any other conversations he had held outside of the family or even with Will and Hannibal. "I'm sure we can come up with something to do tomorrow to pass the time. No rush."

"We love you," Will's voice said, and Morgan gave a small smile.

"We love you too," he answered, shooting Walter a dark look at the roll of toffee eyes. "Come back safe."

"Always," Hannibal assured. "Get some rest boys. It's late."

"Bye, Dad. Bye Father," Walter grumbled, ending the call with a sigh. "My girlfriend, huh?"

"It was a logical conclusion," Morgan defended, reaching out to the lamp that was on and clicking it off. The room filled with darkness, the light from the street still giving enough brightness to the room to see outlines. "She must love you very much if she hasn't even messaged you today."

"Shut up," Walter grumbled, rearranging himself so he was beside Morgan, head on pillows. He reached out cautiously, eyes closed in fear before his hand finally rested on Morgan's shoulder. "Can I...?"

"Always." Morgan's answer came in a breathy whisper and Walter instantly snatched up the younger boy's body, pulling Morgan close to himself. He tucked Morgan against his chest, arms circling the boy tightly, ignoring the way that skin was already sweaty again from the heat of the night. Walter's heartbeat through his chest and against Morgan's back as their breathing slowly matched. "It's hard to sleep without you."

"I know, Einstein," Walter whispered, nuzzling his face into Morgan's neck, the scent of strawberries overwhelming. "I know."

"Wally," Morgan laughed, head turning against the order to glance back at the tower that stood proudly behind him. Hands snatched up his face and pulled him back to face Walter who was glowing with the sunset behind him, looking so much like a J. M. W. Turner painting that Morgan felt his breath leave his lips. Walter's thumbs gently caressed his cheeks and there was an unbelieving smile on his lips.

"You're impossible," he scolded Morgan teasingly. "You can't ever just listen to me, can you? You have to do whatever you want."

"Wally," Morgan whispered, unsure where his voice had gone, desperately wanting to know why Walter was being this kind to him. It wasn't that Walter wasn't kind to Morgan. He absolutely was, but he had never been like this. He had never been open and vulnerable with Morgan. Not since Germany. Not since he opened the door to Hannibal's room and stepped inside before returning with a haunted look to shove cleaning supplies into his hands. "I-"

"Just face this way a little longer, Morgan. I promise it will be worth it," Walter whispered, thumbs still gentle in their caressing of Morgan's face and Morgan's heart fluttered in betrayal in his chest.

Was Morgan reading too far into this? Of course, he was. He always did. Walter's actions were nothing more than just actions. This didn't mean anything to him. He wouldn't care about the blush that was creeping a path across all of Morgan's skin. He wouldn't see the way that Morgan's limbs turned to jello whenever Walter touched him. He wouldn't notice the way that Morgan couldn't breathe. Wouldn't notice the silent begging across Morgan's face that the kid couldn't hold back. A plea of, kiss me. Please just kiss me.

Only Walter saw. He did see. And felt. He felt all of it. Every little emotion flooding off of Morgan was pin pricking across Walter's flesh. It drowned him, entombed him and he couldn't fight it anymore, wasn't sure if he ever had a chance because he was so pathetically weak, and had always been weak.

Morgan's blue eyes were closed, and his breathing halted, held in a timeless weightlessness. So beautiful and perfect just as he was. His body was pulled forward and Morgan stumbled as his feet tried to keep up with him.

Warm breath caressed his lips and his body shrunk as lips were pressed to his. His knees buckled and one of Walter's arms wrapped around his waist, pulling Morgan closer. Morgan thought that his lungs were going to burst when Walter finally let him go.

Morgan gasped, hands clinging to Walter's wrist and bicep to stay upright. His eyes slowly flickered open, and he stared up at maple eyes that looked just as surprised as he felt.

"I-I-I-" Walter stuttered, brows furrowing. "I'm sorry."

"Why?" Morgan asked, chest tight as he continued to let Walter hold up his weight, unsure if he could.

"I shouldn't have done that. I just..."

"Just?"

"I've ruined us, haven't I?" Walter asked, head falling forward, but he didn't dare release Morgan, afraid that the boy would run if given the chance. "Ruined anything and everything between us. We can't come back from this."

"What makes you think that I want to?"

"Morgan," Walter scolded, though there was no real bite to it. "You're still a child. You're far too young for this to work between us."

"Then help me grow up. Be my strength just as you always have been. I've always trusted you, Wally. I trust you now."

"You don't know what you're asking."

"Then show me and let me decide."

"Hotel. Now," Walter whispered, kissing Morgan once more, soundly. Morgan only trembled in his grip at the order. He turned around and caught a glimpse of the glittering Eiffel Tower, but it didn't hold quite the same spark to it that Walter's hand did as it drug Morgan along.

The trip back to the hotel felt like it took an eternity and the moment the door opened, Morgan was shoved inside and once more kissed, something hungry.

"I've wanted to do this all day," Walter gasped out between kisses.

"I've wanted you to do this all day," Morgan admitted softly, body weak against Walter's.

"This goes as far as you want Morgan, ok?" Walter pulled back and rested his head against Morgan's. "I don't want to do anything you don't want, and I know myself well enough to know if you give me an inch, I will go the mile."

"Wally?" Morgan asked softly. "Don't stop kissing me. Please. Just let what happens happen."

"I don't want to-"

"You won't break me, Wally. I promise." Morgan pushed forward and kissed Walter again and that seemed to be enough. Walter scooped Morgan from the floor and carried Morgan over to one of the two beds in the room. Gentle was the only word that came to mind as Walter rested Morgan back on the bed and climbed over the top of him. "Is this real?"

"I hope so," Walter whispered huskily, kissing across Morgan's cheek. "What happens in the morning Morgan? What are we-"

"We figure that out in the morning," Morgan interrupted, letting Walter's fingers pull his tie from around his neck. He sighed; head tipping back as soft lips trailed worshiping kisses down the column of his throat. "Just don't stop."

"I don't really know what I'm doing," Walter admitted as his fingers unbuttoned Morgan's shirt, tracing the strong muscles that were there. Muscles that had seen battle and lived a hundred times over. Muscles that Walter praised with kisses that made Morgan whimper and arch.

"Me neither," Morgan whispered with a small laugh that quickly turned into a sigh at a kiss against his sternum. "But you've been with people before. I-I mean-" There was a moan as Walter's mouth found one of his nipples and lightly sucked on it. "Walter."

"Sorry," Walter whispered, sitting up just slightly.

Morgan shook his head desperately. "So good. Don't stop." Walter gave a kind smile and took Morgan once more in his mouth, tongue teasing softly. There was another moan and Morgan's hands tangled in sweat damp hair, tugging at it lightly. "You were the one that explained sex to me. You should know-"

"It's different between men," Walter interrupted, moving to give Morgan's other nipple the same attention. Morgan gasped as teeth scraped against him, eyes closed tightly, trapped in the pleasantly painful heat at the base of his spine. "And we absolutely can stop." Morgan shook his head and licked his lips. He let Walter push his shirt off and Walter's fingers trailed over all of Morgan's exposed flesh. "You're beautiful."

"So, you've been saying all day," Morgan teased, eyes opening enough to meet a surprised expression.

"I-I..." Walter trailed off, a blush coming to his cheeks, and he quickly looked away. Morgan's expression twisted to one of confusion and he sat up, reaching a hand out to Walter. Morgan caressed one of Walter's cheeks and the man leaned into it with a sigh. "It just slipped out. I-I wasn't trying-I just-"

"Hush," Morgan whispered, pulling Walter back to him for a kiss. Morgan's arms wrapped around Walter's neck and held the man close, enjoying that way that Walter's strong hands took his bare hips. "I've never seen you in such a nervous wreck before," Morgan whispered, resting his forehead to Walter's. "It's just me, Wally. You know me. There's nothing to be afraid of."

"You're everything to be afraid of," Walter argued in a quiet voice. "You terrify me."

"Why?" Morgan gave a small laugh and bit his bottom lip. "I'm not that scary."

"Because you deserve something that's perfect and that's not me."

"Let me decide for myself," Morgan instructed softly, leaning up to steal another kiss. "Wally, I told you that I trust you. I always have and that's not about to change. If you're this afraid, we can stop here. Just cuddle and kiss me the rest of the night."

"No," Walter muttered with a shake of his head. "I want this with you. I just-"

"Don't think this hard, Wally," Morgan instructed, leaning back enough that Walter was soon back over the top of him. "Just feel with me. You don't need to be afraid."

Walter sighed and lowered himself over Morgan, resting his head against Morgan's shoulder. "I'm afraid to take off my clothes around you."

"What?" Morgan gave a small snicker and shook his head, hugging Walter tightly to him, enjoying the extra warmth over his body despite the summer's heat. "Why on earth would you be embarrassed about that? You have nothing to be embarrassed over. I've seen you shirtless a hundred times. You're stunning, Wally."

"It's not my body that I'm embarrassed over, it's the look that's going to cover your face once you see me," Walter explained, pressing a kiss to Morgan's shoulder.

"I'm not going to laugh if your dick's small, Walter."

Walter shook his head and pushed himself up to meet Morgan's gaze. "It's not that."

"Let me see then," Morgan suggested softly, a hand caressing Walter's cheek. "Because I'm not understanding."

"Undress me," Walter whispered, and Morgan gave a nod. Walter closed his eyes with a pained expression before sitting up. Morgan followed and took the hem of Walter's shirt, pushing it up and over perfect muscles. Morgan leaned forward and kissed Walter's abdomen, smiling when Walter shuttered with a shiver. Walter helped pull his shirt over his head and Morgan's eyes trailed over Walter's body. "Please don't say anything yet," Walter begged quietly, eyes closed tightly. "Just keep going before you say anything."

Morgan's eyes jumped from the bruising that covered Walter's body that he hadn't noticed earlier that day. Why hadn't he noticed? Was he too enthralled with watching Walter play soccer that he hadn't recognized the deep blues, purples, greens, and yellows over nearly every inch of Walter's body?

"Wally-"

"Please!" Walter begged, causing Morgan's mouth to go dry. "Please keep going or I'm going to lose my nerve."

Morgan slowly obeyed, fingers working on the button and zipper of Walter's jeans before slowly pushing at the fabric. It slid down over Walter's hips and Morgan watched as more of Walter's tanned skin was exposed, more blues and reds greeting Morgan. Walter stood from the bed and kicked off his shoes and socks, letting his jeans drop fully to the ground, waiting with held breath and eyes on Morgan.

"Do..." Morgan's blue eyes followed the line of Walter's body, noting the way one of his ankles looked a little swollen. That must have been the cause of his limp. He still played soccer on such an ankle? "Do you want to tell me about it?"

Walter looked shocked, jaw dropping open slightly before he found it in himself to close his mouth. "You're not going to demand to know what happened?" Morgan shook his head, but the concern didn't leave his eyes. "Why?"

"It's not my place," Morgan answered softly. "If you don't want to tell me, you don't have to, but I do want to know." Morgan pushed himself up and onto his knees, moving to the edge of the bed to be beside the still standing Walter. Morgan hesitantly reached out and his fingertips gingerly traced some of the bruising.

"Will you tell dad and father?" Walter asked with a clicking and dry swallow. Morgan shook his head before leaning over to press a kiss to a newer bruise on his arm. It was feather light, just a brush of lips, but it made Walter's knees go weak at the emotion that was poured into it. "I... School isn't good, Morgan." Walter's hand reached up and tangled into Morgan's hair as the boy continued to place special attention kisses to Walter's injuries. "I'm failing my classes; I can't stop drinking or doing drugs." There was a pause in Morgan's kisses, but he quickly started them once more, somehow injecting more emotions into Walter's skin than before. Walter's throat closed around a lump and tears pricked at his eyes. "I go to parties almost every night. I sleep around. I-I..." Walter inhaled sharply at a kiss to his collar bone that sent a shiver down the length of his spine. His hands instinctively took Morgan's hips and pulled Morgan closer. "I don't sleep, I don't eat. I'm just there."

"Who did this to you, Wally?" Morgan questioned, pressing kisses into Walter's jaw, the stubble scratching at his lips, but he didn't care. "Who hurts you like this?"

"My coach," Walter whispered, hugging Morgan securely to him, eyes shut tightly. "I want to walk away from my scholarship. I don't know if I can be around that man anymore. He touches me." Morgan stiffened at the words and Walter pressed a kiss to the boy's temple in reassurance, though he wasn't sure if it worked. "Not..." Walter sighed. "Not like that. But I can tell he wants to. And he says these things to me when no one is watching. These awful things, Morgan."

"Tell me?"

"No," Walter whispered quickly with a shake of his head. "I can't repeat them."

"You don't have to tell me anymore, Wally," Morgan pushed, hugging Walter back just as tightly, paying close attention to the bruising so that he didn't hurt the older. "You don't need to tell me."

"He shoves me and trips me and hits me because I won't do what he asks me to do," Walter whispered. "I won't let him violate me, Morgan, but there's only so much I can do to make it look like accidents and-"

"You don't have to put up with that, Wally. You could take care of him if you wanted to."

"I'm not that kind of person, Morgan. I don't want to be like our parents."

"Would you like to stop talking about this?" Morgan pulled back, hands taking Walter's cheeks. Walter gave a small nod. "Did you want to keep going with what we were doing?"

"You aren't..." Walter's brows furrowed, and he licked his lips. "You want to keep going?"

"As long as we won't hurt you. You've been on your ankle far more than you should have," Morgan answered. "A few bruises aren't a turn off, as long as you're ok."

"I'm ok," Walter agreed softly, pulling Morgan back to him to kiss. Morgan melted against him, and Walter sighed at the weakness of the boy. His fingers found Morgan's slacks and undid them, hands pushing the fabric from Morgan's body. Morgan helped shrug out of them before pulling Walter back onto the bed and over the top of him so that he could feel Walter's skin against his own. "Morgan," Walter whispered in adoration between kisses. "I want you."

"Me too," Morgan muttered, fingers once more finding Walter's hair and tangling in them.

Walter's eyes flickered open in the darkness of the room, the sounds of the city that was still awake were loud from the open window. Walter inhaled deeply and did his best to hide his groan as he finally placed himself inside of his own body. A deep, hot pain stuck in his boxers made a flush come to his cheeks and his heart raced.

He pushed from the bed, ignoring the small whimper from a still asleep Morgan, and rushed to the bathroom. The door shut and locked behind him and he leaned his back against the door, hiding his face in his hands with a shaky exhale.

"Fuck," he whispered as he dug at his eyes with the heels of his hands until he saw colors. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." Walter rushed to the mirror, hands taking the edge of the sink as he leaned over and stared at his reflection. His hair was a wild mess, his face flushed red. He bit his lip and shook his head. "You prev," he scolded himself. "You're such a fucking perv. He's a kid." Walter pushed himself off the counter and went to the shower, turning it on as cold as it could go. "He's fourteen. Stop!"

Without undressing or checking the water, Walter stepped into the stream, an immediate shiver racing down his spine and he clutched at himself to try to stay warm. His teeth chattered despite the heat in the rest of the room, and he groaned when his body refused to react the way he wanted it to.

"Fuck," he groaned, head leaning against the side of the shower. "He's your brother, dipshit. You're straight. So, fucking straight." Walter's eyes shut tightly, and he shivered once more as water soaked his boxers.

He was straight. He found women blindingly attractive and actively slept around. He was safe, sure, but that didn't stop him from quickies and one-night stands. That wasn't the right train of thought. It was doing nothing to stop the ache between his legs.

He despised when men looked at him like that. He never actively said anything because there was no reason to tell a man off if Walter was hit on. It should have been flattering, but it wasn't. It was gross and made him feel dirty and... That was better.

Do we need to check that again? Your form could be-

"Shut up," Walter hissed as his coach's words swarmed his head. He shook his head against the shower wall, anger heating his body to the point where he hardly noticed the chill of the water any longer.

After practice, I need to see you in my office for a physical check-

"Shut up."

I love the way you look when you run sprints across-

"Shut up!" Walter's voice rose, but he didn't put much thought to it, trapped in his own mental hellscape.

I like those shorts, Grant. Makes your ass-

"Shut the fuck up!"

Misbehave for me again, Grant. You know how much I love to discipline you... In private.

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!"

We've had fun across these years, haven't we? And tonight, you are going to finally give me what I need to put in a good word for you with the scouts. Now open your pretty legs and let me see the package.

"Fuck you!" Walter's fist slammed against the shower wall, the pain and loud thud enough to break him from the image of the older man not so stealthily adjusting himself in his pants. Walter's eyes shot open, his breathing shot and ragged. His body shook with rage, his jaw clenched so tightly that he thought his teeth would shatter. He unhinged his jaw and ran a hand over his face, trying to catch his breath as the ache in his teeth set in. "Fuck you," he gasped. "Fuck you."

With rage perfectly, and welcomingly, replacing any feeling of lust that Walter had had moments before, the water was turned off and Walter stripped of his boxers, leaving them in the bottom of the shower to dry. He fetched a towel and dried himself off before wrapping it around his waist and leaving the bathroom.

Walter stiffened at a tired voice that called out to him. "Wally? Are you ok? There was a loud-"

"I'm fine," Walter swiftly interrupted, his voice harsher than he meant it to be. He winced and gave a sigh. "Everything's ok. Go back to sleep."

Morgan's outline rose from the bed and stretched. "What were you doing?"

"Too... hot." Walter rolled his eyes at the pathetic half-truth, but pushed it aside and went for his bag to grab new clothes. "Needed to cool off." Walter flinched as the bedside lamp was turned on. "Go back to sleep, Einstein."

Morgan didn't move, but gratefully stayed quiet as Walter found another pair of boxers to change into. Instead of making the smart decision and sleeping in the other bed, Walter found himself once more on the bed beside Morgan. He huffed in annoyance as those wintery blue eyes looked over him and he turned his back to Morgan.

"Would you turn off the light and go to sleep, kid? I'm not in the mood."

There wasn't an answer, but a caress to Walter's shoulder caused the man to jump and quickly snap his head around to look at Morgan, who was absently tracing a marking in Walter's skin.

"I didn't want to say anything earlier," Morgan said softly, head tipped to the side as his finger continued to outline a bruise that had been caused from being shoved into a goal post. "And I know that sports can hurt you; you used to come home from games and practices all banged up, but..." Walter watched as Morgan bit his bottom lip as he most likely decided on what to say. "Why are you all beat up? You-You don't have to tell me."

"I'd rather not," Walter grumbled, turning away from Morgan again.

"Ok," Morgan agreed simply, hand leaving Walter. The light flickered off and Walter could feel the bed move as Morgan settled back into it. "Just know that you can always tell me anything, Wally."

Walter rolled his eyes and chewed on his tongue, ignoring the pull of the kid behind him. Time clicked by for what could have been hours or merely minutes, Walter wasn't sure, but soon enough he couldn't fight it any longer.

He turned around and found Morgan's body once more, pulling the boy closer to him to inhale artificial strawberries. Morgan groaned, and nuzzled his face into the pillow, having obviously been able to fall asleep.

"Wally-"

"Shh," Walter whispered, closing his eyes as the normality and comfort of the position lulled his aching chest into something a bit lighter. "Go back to sleep."

"Mm, hmm," Morgan grumbled with a tired nod and a yawn, hand draping over Walter's arm.

Strawberries were what lulled Walter back to sleep, into a safer sleep than previously.

Will sighed and placed the newspaper aside, once more looking over the headlines. "We need to take a rest. We can't keep finding people for him to practice on," Will stated, reaching out for the cup of coffee that was set in front of him at the small café he and Hannibal had stopped at for breakfast. He took a drink, eyes once more reading over the article that reminded him a bit of Tattlecrime.

-Hospital Mutilator, Psycho, or a Benefactor?

A successful cholecystectomy was performed on Mr. Johan Berg. As per usual, Mr. Berg was suffering from an inflamed gallbladder and would soon have contracted jaundice. His surgery was scheduled at Danderyds Hospital, but the man was reported missing several days before that. It is under suspicion that the Hospital Mutilator is possibly a doctor that works for several facilities and can gain access to patient charts to see what surgery needs to be performed and when it is scheduled for. Mr. Berg was found alive and in a mostly stable condition and has been treated by Danderyds Hospital, which he had been reportedly left outside of.-

"No one has died, Will," Hannibal reminded softly, unperturbed it would seem.

"You know I don't care if they die." Will rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses. Hannibal had to know him better by now. They had only been living this life for the last long while. "I care about our son being discovered. Give him a break. Maybe have him start working on drugs again. He needs to keep his tolerance up."

Hannibal nodded, sipping from his own cup. "You're right as always, love."

"One of us has to stay sharp." The tease caused Hannibal's brows to rise offendedly. Will's lips ticked up into a smile. "Please. You've gone soft."

"I have not."

"You have too. Soft and cocky. You're too high up on your throne and if you're not careful you're going to be humbled." Will leaned back in his chair, looking out at the crowds passing by. His mind wandered over the last few hours, curious how their sons had been fairing after their phone call had been the most forced conversation Will could recall ever having with either of his sons. "The boys sounded tense last night. Do you think anything happened?"

"Other than the two of them arguing just like they always do?" Hannibal asked back with the hint of laughter in his tone. "They are more than capable at handling themselves."

"Right." Will sighed, fingers tapping on the tabletop absentmindedly. "I wish he'd come visit more. Do you think we-"

"He is old enough to decide what to do with his time," Hannibal defended. Will wasn't sure when their roles had switched. When had Hannibal been the one who relaxed into the family aesthetic and left Will to be the one to overthink and worry? He recalled fondly when Hannibal was the one who would come to be anxious about their children. "And whether that is to spend it with us or with another girlfriend, we do not have a say. We only need support."

"I hate that you're always right." Will finished off his coffee and folded up the newspaper to hide away the headline that he didn't need to keep rereading when he had the article memorized. "Promise that we'll take a break. We need to let the heat cool down. Especially if it's starting to reach out to other countries. If it keeps going soon it'll reach back home, and I do not want eyes on us. I'm not about to lose this."

Will glanced down as a hand took his that was still tapping away and gave it a comforting squeeze. Will gave Hannibal a half smile and returned the grip. "You won't lose this, Will. Nothing is going to happen to us."

"Because we're going to be smart, right?" Will pushed, causing Hannibal to frown slightly. "Don't think that just because we've been free for so long that we're invincible. Because we aren't. Bedelia's carving fork should have shown you that years ago if the Dragon didn't."

Hannibal's hand reached up and rubbed his chest at a scar long ago from a dinner he had taken such a long time to prepare. It seemed like ancient history now that he thought back on it. Carving a leg and plating it just to only to be stabbed by the hidden weapon in a cloth napkin.

"We're going to be smart about this," Hannibal finally agreed. "Let's pick up the boys and after dinner we'll stop at the Palais Garnier for the ballet."

Walter: 22

Morgan: 15

Normally the ropes were comforting. Being bound up was the equivalent of a weighted blanket, he assumed. It usually could remove the tension. He could let his body just fall into the ropes that held his body at attention. Relax into them and let them do the work for him.

The gags and blindfolds took away his need to speak and see and if he didn't need to speak or see, then he didn't have to think. And if he didn't have to think then he didn't have to act. He was relieved of the challenge of acting and deciding. In this space all he needed to do was feel and be and do as he was told. It was a two-person universe for however long he wanted the session to last.

He could just give over his power, his mind, his will. He would be safe and protected while in a vulnerable and open state. It was out of his hands and up to someone else to keep him safe. At least in this space, for a few hours, he could be wanted, even if it were just like that. Mindless and silent. He didn't need degrees or a job. He just needed to live in this moment.

He would have been happy to do just that until panic set in. He was certain that she hadn't meant to hurt him. He doubted she would have even known that such a set of words strung together could break him down so completely that he had to escape.

"So beautiful. You belong on your knees, Cerbiatto." (little fawn.)

Not even when he was wringing the life out of someone had he felt so afraid and trapped and panicked. He had learned since he was a child to control his panic, but sometimes things just snapped. They bent and broke and unfortunately that was him and he didn't have his parents around to protect him anymore. To jump in after him and save him if something went wrong.

His body started to tremble violently, and he began pulling desperately at the ropes that hadn't been fully tightened yet.

"I don't believe I gave you permission to-" she was interrupted, though he wasn't sure if she heard him.

"Red," Walter whispered as he continued to pull at the ropes around his wrists. When they didn't budge, his heart spiked, and his fingers went numb. "Red. Fucking red!"

The shift in the room was instant. Dominance turned to concern, and the woman swiftly stepped over. "Ok," she hushed, reaching out and pulling his hands towards her. "It's ok. We'll get you out." Her hands were far more controlled, and the moment Walter's wrists were free, he tried to get to his feet. The girl, a nice blonde woman who Walter had performed several scenes with previously, reached out to take his bare shoulders. "You'll trip. Let me help."

Walter did his best to hold his body still as she lowered herself to her knees and began to unwork the knots she had put in place. If she took any longer, he was going to shake himself apart. He couldn't do this anymore. He couldn't be weak. He would never be weak again. He would never allow himself to be under someone's control ever again. He couldn't. Not when green eyes still haunted him, and those words had been told to him more than once. Never again.

His ankles were released, and Walter jumped to his feet, heading for the door. He snatched up his shirt from the hanger and began to pull it on, trying to ignore how the girl rushed forward, much shorter now, even with her heels on.

"Did I do something wrong?" she asked hurriedly.

"No, Miss Kitty," Walter muttered, reaching for his jacket and then for the door. "Nothing."

"Can I do anything to help you relax or-"

"No, Miss Kitty." Walter shook his head and stepped out the door. "Have a good night."

"I'll check up on you in a few hours. Be careful with yourself!" she called after him as he rushed through the rest of the dungeon, up the stairs and out into the night.

Once out, he dug through his jacket pockets until he found his pack of cigarettes. They weren't the same. Weren't anywhere near strong enough to outweigh the way that he still suffered from withdrawals. But he figured that these were better than cocaine and they were better than nothing.

He lit one and inhaled as deeply as he could, his hands trembling so badly that he wasn't sure how he got the lighter to strike. The lighter and pack were forcibly shoved back into his pocket, and he started down the street, back in the direction of his dorms.