The table was set and dinner was wonderful. It almost pissed Morgan off more that he had to share this night with some floozy who would not stop hanging on Walter like she was a nickel hooker in the red light district. Maybe Morgan was being too harsh, but he sure didn't think so.

Walter had drunk nearly two glasses of wine and his cheeks were red with the alcohol that was being chased down with two fingers of whiskey. He laughed, was slouched in his chair, arm around Isotta to keep her tucked into his side. And his lips were swollen and used from stealing her kisses, from placing kisses shamelessly to her cheeks and temples. Morgan's grip on his fork cut into his palm.

"Are you feeling alright, kleiner hase ?" Hannibal asked softly beside him. Morgan blinked, not realizing he had been staring, and he loosened his painfully tight grip on his fork, letting it softly clatter to the table, the noise hidden by more laughter from Will and Walter, Will doing fairly well with the present company, Morgan noted in annoyance. "You've barely touched your food."

"Fine," Morgan answered stickily, mouth dry. He reached out for his water and took a sip though it did nothing to rain on the desert that was his tongue. Morgan let out a small growl, looking down at his plate when Walter nipped playfully at Isotta's cheek and she squirmed in his tight grip. "I'm just not hungry."

"Well, there will be plenty for you tomorrow," Hannibal pointed out even though he didn't have to. Morgan sighed as Hannibal's hand took his shoulder and gave it a small squeeze. "I'll let it slide this once, but you know better than to lie to me, kleiner hase. "

"Hey, Einstein," Walter said, catching Morgan's attention. Morgan looked up to see Walter digging through Isotta's handbag before holding out a wrapped gift across the small dining table. Morgan gave a confused look and took the gift from Walter's hands. "Happy birthday. I hope you like it." Walter set the bag back down by the legs of Isotta's chair and turned his eyes intently on Morgan. Morgan looked over the poor wrapping job that could have only been from Walter and he felt a small smile tug at his lips. "Well, open it, Einstein. I don't have all night."

Morgan ripped at the wrapping paper haphazardly, the paper crinkling loudly as it fell away to reveal a rather thick and heavy book. The cover was fully red maroon, raised bands, elaborately golden gilt-decorated boards and spine, marbled endpapers. On the spine it read: HISTORY OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY.

Morgan's eyebrows furrowed and he tipped the book open to find beautifully hand drawn depictions of the abbey that was in England that they had seen once when they were very little. Morgan had always wanted to go back to try to read all of the grave stones, though it was impossible to do so. Most of them had been worn away with time and with people stepping all over them, why the graves were placed in the floor, Morgan wasn't exactly sure, but he felt a little sad that time had washed those people away to be nothing more than a different colored stone in the floor.

"That's Rudolph Ackermann's hand colored drawings and the history of the abbey," Walter explained with an excited smile.

Morgan flipped through several of the incredibly detailed pictures that he was sure both Hannibal and Walter could copy perfectly, though he never would be able to. He found all of the publication information at the front of the book and glanced up at Walter. "This is a first edition," he stated carefully, fingers suddenly wanting to be more gentle with the book. Walter simply gave a nod. "How much did this cost you?"

"It doesn't matter," Walter answered, his free hand dismissing the question with a wave before he picked up his glass and downed the rest of his whiskey. "All that matters is that you like it."

"O-Of course I like-I like it," Morgan stuttered out, the words lost to him as he continued to carefully flip through the pages like they belonged to the Book of Kells. "It's breathtaking."

"Good," Walter said proudly, obviously pleased with himself.

"It's not fair when a son out gifts the parents," Will said with a small chuckle. "Hannibal, do you want to tell Morgan what we got him?"

Morgan had to drag his eyes away from the book that he would have to look over in that window seal in the classroom while it rained. He met Hannibal's kind smile, the man's hands clasped under his chin in support as he leaned on the table.

"There's a stable in Lasswade," Hannibal started, eyes kind as he looked over his youngest son. "It's about twenty minutes from here. If you would like to go there tomorrow we can."

"A stable?" Morgan asked curiously, glancing around the room for a better answer, though no one spoke, not even Walter offered him a single shoulder shrug. "You got me a horse?"

Walter gave a snort. "Please tell me you got him one of those Shetland ponies or something."

Isotta looked lost and Will was wearing a gentle smile.

" Gli hanno procurato un cavallo ," Walter explained softly to his girlfriend. She gave a small nod in understanding, eyes wide at the explanation. Morgan couldn't help but note that she must not have come from a family with money.

"A Clydesdale," Hannibal answered and Morgan felt a smile come to his face.

"Why?" Morgan asked excitedly. "I haven't ridden since my mom would take me."

"We thought it would give you time to yourself," Will replied with a shrug. "Something to do without having to be around us constantly."

"We also thought that you would like to stay connected to your roots if you so choose," Hannibal finished. "I would be more than happy to take you tomorrow."

Morgan laughed in disbelief. "Yes."

Morgan couldn't remember Walter ever getting a gift like this when they were younger. Will's and Hannibal's gifts were always outlandish and overly expensive, but this was something else. The closest thing that Morgan could compare this to was his parents letting Walter stay behind while he was finishing high school and starting college instead of dragging him along to the Swedish mountains that had been their next home. They were far too cold for Morgan's liking. Too much snow. Or perhaps he hated it because those were the excuses that Walter had used for not visiting.

"Walter, how about you help me pick up the table?" Will suggested, with a drink of his own whiskey. "Hannibal, would you like to get the dessert out?"

The three rose from the table and began to clear everything away and Morgan was very quickly left in an awkward silence with Isotta. He glanced around the room to where everyone else was working and licked his lips. Isotta took a small sip of her wine and avoided his eyes.

He had to try to be nice at least. If she was going to be part of their family.

" Da quanto tempo è stata la tua relazione? " (How long has your relationship been?)

" Cinque mesi. " (Five months.) Her words were bored.

Morgan tried not to let his thoughts get past his filter. Five months and they were already looking at rings and planning children? Morgan thought he was going to be sick if he didn't change the subject.

" Hai un nome molto bello, " (You have a very beautiful name,) Morgan said kindly, closing his book and setting it carefully on the table. She gave a nod in thanks, but didn't say anything. " È da quella leggenda celtica francese? Tristan e Iseult?" (Is it from that French Celtic legend? Tristan and Iseult?)

" Non ho mai sentito parlare di quella storia, " (I've never heard of that story,) was her curt answer, obviously not wanting to speak to Morgan.

A frown took over Morgan's lips and his eyes lowered to the table. "And you want to teach literature," he grumbled under his breath, fist going to hold up his cheek as he pulled his new book closer to slowly flip through the pages again.

His gaze was pulled back up as a hand rested on his shoulder and a plate was set in front of him. He was met with Walter's warm smile and Morgan couldn't stop the faint smile that pulled at his lips, his chest lighter now.

"Wally, you need to draw me something soon," Morgan stated as he closed his book and pushed it aside in favor of dessert.

"Do I?" Walter asked with a teasing lilt to his voice.

Morgan gave a nod. "It is my birthday after all."

"Oh, I see," Walter said with a knowing nod and a chuckle. "You want more gifts out of me." Walter gave Morgan's shoulder a tight squeeze that boarded on painful, and then stepped away to help serve the rest of the dessert. "What would you like me to draw?"

"Tristan and Isolde," Morgan replied, voice a bit more cocky than he meant it. He could see Walter pause for a moment before he continued on, obviously picking up on the jab at his girlfriend, but he played along.

"John William Waterhouse's?" Walter questioned, picking up another plate that Hannibal had finished and brought it over for Isotta, placing a kiss to her head before he went back to fetch the next plate.

"Rogelio de Egusquiza," Morgan clarified, not missing the way Walter's eyes snapped to his face. Morgan couldn't place Walter's expression though, it was hidden so carefully. He had hit a nerve however. That much was clear. And had caught the attention of Hannibal and Will, but Morgan ignored them.

"Alright, Einstein. I'll draw it for you if you can-"

"It's my birthday!" Morgan reminded playfully to break the tension in the room. He picked up his fork hurriedly. "You just have to give into my every demand. I don't make the rules." He dug into the slice of pie and shoved it into his with a smile at Walter who looked down with a dangerous chuckle. Morgan looked down at the food that he had so unceremoniously eaten and found a lemon icebox pie. Something he could remember his mother making once. Actually, maybe it was the three of them. Mom, mother, and him, all in the kitchen, making a pie. "This is amazing, father," Morgan said stiffly as he took another bite, pushing the memory or dream or whatever it was away.

Everyone was settled back at the table with a mostly comfortable silence, singing happy birthday with candles not something that Morgan could ever remember them doing before. He thought he could recall candles and a cake for one of his birthdays when his mothers were alive though.

Morgan was content to let the rest of the night go on in this silence, but Walter broke it with a clearing of his throat. Morgan didn't dare look up. Instead he stabbed at the pie crust and watched as it broke apart in a crumbling mess.

"Dad, father," he said, his voice much more serious than it had been before. Morgan still didn't look up, not when his parent's attention went to Walter. "Are you busy next weekend?"

Hannibal and Will traded glances and Will shook his head. "Not as of yet. What is it?"

Walter inhaled deeply and it was like a pull on Morgan's attention, eyes finally flickering up to the older boy. That soon to be teacher. Morgan gave a small smile at the idea. Walter dressed up in something nicer than his t-shirt and gym shorts that he always wore, at the front of a classroom with equations written on a board for the students to see.

The concept of math hadn't been something that Morgan truly enjoyed and he had never once wanted to take idiotic statistics and probability, but he was certain that Walter would make even paint drying an interesting subject.

Maybe when he was older and could leave without his parents' permission, he could sit in on one of those classes. Or maybe he could take one of Walter's classes. Even if it was to just poke fun at Walter after class had finished. Tell him his Italian was rusty even if it was perfectly fine. German would have been more of a challenge for Walter.

"We're having an engagement party. I was hoping that you would be willing to come meet her family," Walter answered, effectively crashing Morgan's vision of a classroom and a teacher. Morgan felt his body turn cold and he didn't think he could eat anymore. In fact, he was nearly certain that everything he had eaten would be coming back up shortly. "I know it's short notice. I'm sorry."

There was a stunned silence before Hannibal quickly picked up the ball and began running with it again. "Of course. We would be more than happy to meet her family. We're very happy for you."

"We'll discuss the details more later," Will assured with a small nod.

"I would like you to come too, Einstein," Walter said kindly, looking over the younger boy who wasn't quite so young anymore.

Morgan would begin pulling away soon too. Going after his own dreams, whatever they were. Walter was pretty sure that Morgan wanted to be a surgeon or something in the medical field. The kid would have a lot of work ahead of him, but Walter knew Morgan could do it. Morgan had always been so much smarter than him.

Morgan was book smart, so utterly brilliant and Walter had to make up for it with hard work. His smarts lied in the street, not the classroom. He found it funny himself that he had picked to be a teacher of all things. He supposed he could figure out his reasoning later. Right now, he was far more concerned with the sick look on the kid's face.

"You don't have to, Einstein. If you have plans or something, I understand," Walter assured, hoping it would bring the light back to Morgan's eyes.

"Excuse me," Morgan muttered, pushing his half finished plate aside and rising from his chair. He cleared his throat as he left the table and disappeared from the room, heading towards the hallways that Walter had yet to explore.

Walter looked to his parents for an answer, brows furrowed in question. Will gave a small shrug, but Hannibal's expression was blank, hinting to Walter that there was some secret Hannibal wasn't telling them.

"Last room, Mangustėli," Hannibal said and it was all Walter needed to get from the table and give a half-assed apology to Isotta.

The hallway curved into odd angles until Water found the very last door at the end of it. He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, resting his head against the door for a moment, listening to what lay beyond the wood.

He hadn't thought that Isotta's presence would upset Morgan as much as it had. He hadn't thought that having to split his time between the two of them would set Morgan off like it had. In fact, this was the most emotion that he had seen Morgan provide in a long time, Morgan seeming more robot than person on a good day.

And his time wouldn't be that divided. He would still come to visit. The distance between them was only a three hour plane ride currently and Walter had the means to visit Morgan at college, wherever the kid decided to go. They could plan to meet up once a month on the dot. Maybe that wasn't quite enough, but Walter wasn't really sure anymore. He had always tried to be there for Morgan, but he needed to make this move in his life. It was important.

He had to start setting up a family. It would keep him safe. It was his protection. He had to blend in. And Isotta was a kind person, one of the few that Walter had found he could stand while at school. And the best part was she wasn't the brightest crayon in the box. She wasn't stupid, but she didn't notice the small details which was exactly what Walter needed.

She would be distant and not bother to question Walter if something happened that he had to take care of in a less than legal sense. It had been a long time since he had needed to do anything of the kind, but as sure as the sun rose every day, he knew one day it would come back to him. Something was always waiting on the horizon.

Not to mention that this might be his chance at normal. He wanted a family, wanted to have a stable home with someone to come home to. It might be the closest he ever came to it. Surely Morgan could understand that.

Walter took the door handle and turned it, pushing the door open. He wasn't sure what he was expecting to find, but a classroom was not it. A single desk covered with open text books and scattered notes, a blackboard that was smudged with erased chalk, book shelves holding more books crammed into the shelves than in the Library of Congress.

In the corner of the room were blue mats and Walter could nearly hear the slam of a body hitting them. So, Morgan was still having all of this drilled into his head. It sat uncomfortably in Walter's chest. He had tried so hard to keep as much of this away from Morgan as he could and he had failed yet again to protect the kid.

Walter closed the door, the room dim from the only light being the window. His head tipped to the side with a sigh at the form of Morgan sitting in a window seat, knees pulled up to his chest, the streetlamps painting him in a golden glow. He could hear the world still turning below and it only reminded Walter that he didn't have long before he needed to beat traffic to the airport to catch his flight.

Walter moved across the room and to the window, looking out at the road below through the rain-blurred glass. There were umbrellas everywhere, creating a look of dancing colors in the streetlights.

"This place is really beautiful," Walter said, causing Morgan to jump as if he hadn't noticed Walter enter the room.

Walter took a seat next to Morgan's feet and took in the younger's face, trying to read the expression that was there, but Morgan's face was as blank as Hannibal's liked to be. Walter stayed silent, waiting for Morgan to speak, but Morgan didn't do anything more to acknowledge him, simply looked back out the window. Walter hesitantly reached out and took one of Morgan's knees, giving it a squeeze.

"I really do want you to come next weekend," he said, trying to keep his voice and smile light. Morgan's winter sky blue eyes, a blue light that got lost as it was scattered much like the light that created the sky or the depths of the ocean, flickered briefly to Walter's face before leaving again. "I'll take you to see the Ca' Rezzonico. I won't even complain." Walter gave a small laugh, but Morgan didn't react. Walter licked at his lips, nervousness setting in. "Are you upset with me?"

Morgan's head shake was so small that Walter nearly missed it.

"Will you come next weekend?"

Another shake of his head was Walter's answer. Morgan lowered his feet to the floor and Walter pulled his hand back from Morgan's knee, looking over his best friend. He put another smile on his face despite the fact that it felt horribly fake to him.

"Come on, Einstein." He nudged Morgan's shoulder with his own. Morgan's body waved like tall grass in the wind and eventually came to a stop. "Come spend the weekend with me. It would mean a lot." Morgan shook his head and Walter sighed. "Will you at least talk to me, please? I've been looking forward to seeing you all day."

Morgan's voice was broken when he spoke, eyes downcast. "You have?"

"Yeah." Walter chuckled nervously, running a hand through his hair. He hoped he was finally getting somewhere. "Why wouldn't I be excited to see you? I miss you."

"You do?"

Walter's snort brought Morgan's eyes to his face. "Of course I do, Einstein." He snatched Morgan into a headlock and Morgan pulled against it. "You're my best friend. Am I going to have to start calling you something else? Did you stop being smart all of a sudden?"

"Let go," Morgan ordered coldly, but Walter didn't ease simply messed up Morgan's hair once more, noticing the wavy locks having turned a little lighter, a little more golden in the summer sun.

"Not until you agree to come visit me next weekend."

"Let go!" Morgan repeated heatedly, pulling harder at Walter's hold. The hostility in Morgan's tone wasn't lost on Walter and he let Morgan go. Morgan jumped to his feet, breathing hard, blue eyes angry when they turned their undivided attention onto Walter. "I am not going anywhere near that city!"

Walter stared in confusion and slowly got to his feet. "Why?" He took a step closer to Morgan who matched it with an equal step back. "You don't like Venezia?"

"It's not that," Morgan muttered, rubbing at his elbow under his dress shirt.

"Is it because I made fun of the museum?" Walter was searching for anything to be the cause. Anything at all he could apologize for to end the stress between them. He hated fighting with Morgan. "I was kidding."

"No." Morgan shook his head and hunched his shoulders, trying to make himself smaller, Walter's dark eyes burning his skin in their stare.

Walter gave a knowing sigh, shoulder slumping. "Is it because of Isotta?" he questioned, not needing to know the answer. Morgan had been weird since Isotta had been introduced, but why? Morgan shrunk back without a word, gaze stuck on the floor, glued there. Walter took a step closer, cautiously reaching out, but Morgan pulled back before Walter could reach for him. "Are you jealous?" Morgan shook his head vigorously. "Yes, you are."

"No," Morgan disagreed softly.

"She's not taking your place, Morgan," Walter said gently, doing his best to approach the subject as kindly as he could. Morgan's eyes darted up and clung to Walter a little longer this time before he looked away with a shake of his head. "I'll still come to visit you. We can still video chat at night and I love reading your letters. You're probably the only weirdo in the whole world that still writes letters." There was a small smile on Morgan's lips before it was washed away. "Just because we're getting married doesn't mean that you're going to be pushed away, Morgan."

Morgan tensed up at the words and Walter wished he could take them back, though he wasn't exactly sure which part had made Morgan close back up.

"Why are you so jealous? You've never acted like this around any of my other friends or girlfriends I've brought over." Walter gave an exasperated sigh, hands tapping at his thighs as he racked his brain for an answer to this situation. "What is it about her that has you so worked up? Isotta is a really nice person. She works hard and she will be a good wife and a good mother. And she will-"

Something in the air snapped, something strained that Walter hadn't grasped the full weight of until that moment. Something that told Walter that Morgan couldn't handle the conversation anymore.

The front of Walter's shirt was snatched up and he was tugged aggressively forward, a warmth against his mouth. Walter blinked into the dim room that was suddenly so much clearer than it had been, as if the light that had finally turned on in Walter's head had lit up the room.

Morgan pulled back, breaking this kiss, his fists still holding tightly to the fabric in them. He breathed hard, eyes searching Walter's surprised features for any sign of rejection. He found none. Just pure astonishment "Shut the fuck up," he ordered between gasps. "You always make things worse with your words. Did you know that?"

Morgan leaned forward again and when Walter didn't pull away, he captured Walter's lips back up and to Morgan's relief and racing heart, Walter didn't fight. The room was still for a beat before Walter's hands moved, given the permission that had been denied to them for so long.

Morgan's arms were grabbed, the movement sharp and strong. Morgan's back slammed against the nearest wall and he gasped for air from the shock, unable to find any as Walter kissed him back.

Morgan's knees went weak and his eyes rolled back as Walter's tongue trailed over his bottom lip before slowly licking into his mouth. Morgan's body tensed at the intrusion and he couldn't stifle the moan that escaped his lips at the sensation. It was dizzying. There were so many tastes that were left on Morgan's tongue that he couldn't place through the haze that was covering his mind. A haze he had never experienced before, something so calming about not having to think for a few seconds.

A hint of something bitter was there though, something chemical and thick. Smoke, nicotine, a bad habit that needed to be kicked. And then wine and whiskey. Something earthy and sweet and charred, intoxicating and Morgan wished that it were possible to get secondhand drunk from Walter's kiss.

Walter broke the kiss, leaving them both struggling for air. He couldn't help the smirk that covered his lips at the sight of the younger boy undone in his grip, lips so obviously abused, hair a mess of dark and light waves.

"Have you ever been kissed before?" Walter asked, causing Morgan's eyes to snap open and greet Walter with a dazed look. Morgan shook his head and Walter gave a huff of laughter with a smug grin. "Would you like to be kissed again?" The sharp breath from Morgan was answer enough. Walter leaned over, pressing his lips against Morgan's forehead. Morgan shivered, leaning into the touch. Walter's hands cupped Morgan's face, bringing Morgan to look up at him. "I want to hear you say it." Morgan shook his head and Walter tutted him. "Be a good boy and ask me. Don't you want to be my good boy?"

"Kis-Kiss me," Morgan answered brokenly and it only made Walter's smile grow at how readily Morgan gave in. Morgan licked at his lips and then pulled them between his teeth, eyes shut tightly. "Please."

"Good boy."

The praise shot a shiver through Morgan that was only amplified by the kiss finally given to him. Morgan's aching fingers released the fabric and went to Walter's dark hair, tangling in the locks that were far silkier than Morgan would have guessed. Teeth latched onto Morgan's bottom lip and a gasp left him, his chest feeling like it was going to come apart, rip open with how hard his heart and lungs were working to keep him conscious.

Walter hummed appreciatively and kissed at the corner of Morgan's lips. He held Morgan still as he placed kisses to the younger boy's soft cheeks and temples before placing a chaste kiss to Morgan's kiss stained lips.

"Wa-Walter," Morgan stuttered out as those smoldering lips kissed down his jaw line. Morgan licked his lips and his head tipped back naturally, baring his throat. There was a sharp pain at his pulse point and Morgan's body collapsed in on itself without his permission, knees giving out under him.

Walter's hands snatched up Morgan's hips, keeping him in place against the wall as his teeth continued to mark Morgan's neck in lacey purples and reds. The back of his shirt was clenched tightly in a strong grip as he put the barest of space between them.

"Can you show me where you're feeling this, Morgan? Tell me what I'm doing to you," Walter instructed, enjoying the blush that was brought to Morgan's cheeks. Morgan's shiver graced Walter when he nipped just below Morgan's ear. "Be good for me."

"Here," Morgan breathed, one of his hands unlocking from Walter's shirt and touching his chest before it dropped to Walter's forearm as if it was too heavy to hold itself.

Walter gave a crooked smile and pressed his hand flat against Morgan's chest, Morgan's heart racing under his palm. "Here?" Walter clarified as he pressed a peck to Morgan's lips that the boy chased after. Walter chuckled and let the boy have the kiss, enjoying the way Morgan's breath caught in his chest. "Where else?"

Morgan's hand trembled as it took Walter's wrist and slowly lowered it to his abdomen. "There's something tight here," he whispered, barely audible. Walter laughed, continuing to kiss Morgan without hesitation. Morgan squirmed under the touch.

"Anywhere else?"

Morgan inhaled deeply through his nose and gave a frustrated sound from his throat that only made Walter grin more, grip on Morgan's hip tightening possessively

"Lower," Morgan answered.

"Show me," Walter ordered with a cavernous hunger behind the words that made Morgan ache deeply.

Morgan's brutally shaking grip on Walter's wrist slowly obeyed. Walter's strength was the only thing keeping Morgan from falling apart at the seams, splitting open and crawling out of his skin and it didn't seem like Walter minded. Morgan led Walter's hand down lower, feeling the tips of their fingers on the waistline of his slacks, but a knock at the door shattered the air around them.

Walter jumped back, heart pounding painfully in his chest as fear shot through him. Morgan was left feeling cold, breathing hard and unable to stand. He slid down the wall and to the floor, staring up at Walter who shrunk back with a panicked look across his normally sunny face.

"Walter, you're going to miss your flight. It's time to go," Will's voice called from the other side of the door. His footsteps sounded away and the room fell into a thick silence, both boys unmoving, but grateful that Will hadn't entered the room.

"Wally?" Morgan asked after a moment of harsh breathing stillness.

"That never happened," Walter said firmly, stepping further away from Morgan. Morgan's heart sunk in his chest and he slowly pushed himself onto shaky knees, confusion the only emotion he could feel. "Just forget it, ok?"

"What?"

It was the only word that Morgan could form as his pleasantly hazy mind flipped back into an abruptly active state. The room felt disorienting and smaller than before, closing in around him.

Walter's steps were sturdy as he bolted for the door. "I'm getting married, Morgan. This didn't happen."

"Don't marry her."

Walter froze at the echoing words. He swallowed at the lump in his throat that didn't go away. "What?" He couldn't keep the surprise from his voice.

"Stay here." Morgan got to his feet, using the wall to steady him to the point he could walk, but as soon as Walter tensed at the movement, Morgan stopped in hopes that he didn't make the situation any worse than it already was. "Stay with me. You can teach here and I can find a local university. We can-"

"No." Walter's voice was cold and harsh, a tone that Morgan couldn't remember having been directed at him before. "You're my brother, Morgan. This is sick and wrong."

Morgan could only stare at Walter's back, his mouth falling open before he could stop it. He felt like he was choking on the air around him, suffocating.

"My whole life we aren't brothers and the moment we-"

"Of course we're brothers, Morgan." It was said in a convincing sort of tone, but Walter wasn't exactly sure who he was trying to convince. "We've been brothers since that weekend we were dumped in the woods."

"But Wally-"

"Forget this," Walter instructed bitterly. "Be smart for once, Einstein."

Morgan licked his lips, mouth dry. But his eyes weren't. They burned with tears that he absolutely was not going to allow to fall. Anger was brilliantly hot, the emotion raw and fresh, something that Morgan could usually hold back, bite down on, but not now. Not when he was rattled to his core and ripped open for Walter to see and use however he wanted. Dissected open so carefully by Walter's lips and words.

"Clean yourself up. You look ridiculous." Walter opened the door and left, slamming it behind him. Morgan started at the floor until there was another knock at the door and it was slowly opened.

"Walter is leaving," Hannibal said as he entered the room. "Don't you want to come say goodbye, kleiner hase? "

Morgan wanted nothing more than to sink back into the shadows and never come out again. He never wanted to see the sun again. Nothing honey or golden ever again.

Hannibal closed the door after assuring Will's distant voice that they would be out soon. He moved over to Morgan and his eyes took in the disheveled appearance of his son. Hannibal inhaled deeply and let out the breath softly, head tipped to the side with a kind look. Something so rare on the older man's face. "Come here, kleiner hase ."

Morgan reached out and took Hannibal's outstretched hand. Hannibal pulled him closer and into a tight hug, suit smelling like pine in a comforting sort of way. Morgan didn't say anything, just let his father hug him for what was probably longer than a be out in a moment was meant to be.

Hannibal pushed Morgan back and straightened his hair, and then his shirt, buttoning up the collar to hide the bruising that was against Morgan's fair neck.

"Face him," Hannibal said gently.

Morgan gave an indignant snort and shook his head. "I just want him gone."

Hannibal gave a small sigh and his hands rested on Morgan's shoulders with a reassuring squeeze. "You stand tall and strong and he can't hurt you, Morgan."

"That's easier said than done," Morgan grumbled before stepping out of Hannibal's grip. "Let's get this over with. The quicker he leaves, the quicker I can get back to my life."

Morgan left the room, unfolding his sleeves and pulling them down to button them, the extra fabric giving him some semblance of solidarity for him to cling to. He made his way into the living room and nearly crumbled back to the floor when he saw a kiss between Walter and the girl that Morgan didn't want to think about. A hand on his shoulder caught him and Morgan inhaled deeply, letting Hannibal's strength seep into his body.

"It was nice to see you," Morgan said, stepping closer to the group of three by the door. "Have a safe flight."

"Happy birthday, Einstein," Walter said with a plastered on smile, hand reaching out to ruffle Morgan's hair much more like an older brother would than the teasing it had been earlier. Morgan held back the want to bite at the hand that he didn't want to touch him anymore. "Come visit when you can escape your studies." Morgan didn't miss the underlying timber that told Morgan to do the exact opposite of those words.

Morgan gave a small nod, playing his part dutifully. He then bid goodbye to the woman tucked into Walter's side and Will followed them out to take them to the airport. Morgan stood tall until the front door shut and he slowly let himself fall to the middle of the floor, feeling like the walls around him were picking him apart.