Chapter Text
He had waited over twenty years to return it. Though if anyone were to ask him why he had decided to finally do so now, he wasn't sure his answer would be enough for them. He’d simply woken up one morning a couple of days ago, seen a familiar face, and suddenly knew that he needed to return what he'd once taken. He had enough unused vacation days stacked up at work that he could take plenty of time off, and more than enough money in his savings account to buy himself a plane ticket.
As he drove into the city in a rented car, Will had to take the chance to look around. He hadn’t seen so much as a photograph of Baltimore since he’d last been here, back when he’d been nothing more than a foolish child. It was strange to be back, and he certainly didn’t think of it as returning home.
Despite his long absence, Will was able to drive to his destination without even having to think about it, the route ingrained in his mind far too well for him to ever forget it. It wasn’t until he actually pulled up to the familiar building that Will hesitated. Maybe it had been a mistake to come here. It had been so long, and if he was going to fix it, he should have done so years ago instead of running away like a coward.
But before he could put the car into reverse and drive like hell back to the airport, the front door of the building opened, and a beautiful woman stepped outside. She paused at the sight of Will, and tilted her head curiously. “Hello.” Her voice had a slight accent to it that Will couldn’t place. Even though she didn’t say anything else, her eyes were full of questions about what stranger was standing around awkwardly on the front lawn.
Will cleared his throat, and jammed his hands into his jacket pockets to avoid fidgeting too much. “Is this the home of Dr. Lecter?” Of course he knew that it had been at one point, but it was entirely possible that the doctor had moved away at some point in the past two decades. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to stick around in Baltimore any more than Will had.
The woman crossed her arms over her chest, and now she looked annoyed. Will avoided meeting her gaze, not wanting any insight about her feelings. “Great, another crazy stalker patient. Can’t you people just leave my brother alone?”
Will’s eyes widened, and he stared at the woman in disbelief. “Brother…?” His mind started whirring through all of the possibilities as he tried to figure out what was going on. “Mischa?” As he looked at her closer, he found that he could recognize the dark maroon eyes, the royal cut of her cheekbones, and most tellingly, a small scar just under her left eye. He reached up to take off his glasses, unwilling to hide from someone who had once been so important to him. “I’m-”
“Will,” she breathed out, looking as shocked as Will did. “You haven’t changed a bit. I thought you…” she trailed off, and then they both just stood there staring at each other, neither of them sure of what to say in this strange situation. “What are you doing here?” He could tell that Mischa was wary, feeling a combination of guilt towards Will and protectiveness for her older brother.
Will shifted on his feet. “I have something of Hannibal’s. He- he should have it back. Don’t worry, I promise I won’t tell him anything about your role in any of it.”
Mischa gulped, and her voice came out so quietly that it was almost impossible to hear. “But then you’ll be-”
“I know,” Will interrupted. “I’ve had twenty years. That’s more than someone like me could’ve ever thought to ask for.” He bit his lip and then found himself blurting out the biggest question that had been on his mind since the moment he’d first left. “How is he?”
The look on Mischa’s face softened, and she took a few steps closer to Will. Her arms twitched up for a moment, like she wanted to offer Will a hug, but then they dropped back down to her sides, and he knew that she felt like she had no right. “I don’t know whether you want to hear that he’s been happy, or that he’s been miserable.”
One corner of Will’s mouth curved up in a half-smile. “I just want to hear the truth.”
Mischa nodded once, and then took a deep breath in and slowly let it out before speaking. “At first, he was miserable. Aunt was quite worried, having no idea why he was so depressed. It’s not like we could tell her, though. Hannibal got it into his head that you’d just gotten lost, and that he needed to go out and find you, but I convinced him not to. It was the first time I’d ever been unsure of whether he would listen to me or not. He stayed put, and finished med school, did his residency, became a doctor. He stuck with the medical stuff for about ten years before switching to psychiatry. I haven’t seen him as much over the years as I should have, but I think he’s content with his life.” Will nodded, and started to step forward, ready to go inside, but Mischa pushed gently against his chest to stop him. “Wait, Will. I know that you wanted to go, and believe me, once you were long gone and I was able to pull my head out of my ass I realized that I supported that decision whole-heartedly, but that doesn’t change how much it messed him up when you left. When I took you away. If you’re not here to stay, then I don’t think that you should be here at all.”
There were a million things that Will probably should have said to that, but what ended up coming out was, “I’m here to stay.” Then he gave Mischa a long look. “I probably should have asked this first, but how have you been?”
Mischa smiled, and dropped her hand. “I’ve been good. You might have been mine first, but I stopped needing you years before Hannibal saw you.”
One corner of Will's mouth twitched up into the ghost of a smile. He'd once made his own assumptions about why she'd claimed to need him, but he wanted to hear it from her this time. “Then why-?”
And then he was thrown for a loop when Mischa pulled him into a tight hug. “Because you were my friend, you idiot.” Then she stepped back, a radiant grin on her face. “Now get in there before I insist on having you all to myself.” Her smile faded slightly at her own words, even though they had a much lighter tone than they would have twenty years ago. "I'm sorry," she whispered.
Will wasn't sure what to say in the face of a blatant apology, so he decided that it was something that could wait to be addressed. “I promise that you and I will catch up once I’ve spoken with Hannibal.” Then he kissed the top of Mischa’s head before walking past her, towards the very familiar house. It was the place where he’d truly been seen by Hannibal. The place where everything had changed for Will. He paused right in front of the door, though, so that he could glance back at Mischa, who was already walking towards the car that was presumably hers. And Will realized that for the same reasons he was coming back to see Hannibal, he could allow himself to forgive Mischa. Maybe time really did heal all wounds.
As he pushed the front door open, an achingly familiar voice called out from down the hallway. “Mischa, darling, did you forget your keys again?” It was deeper and rougher from aging, but still unmistakably Hannibal’s.
Will almost wished that it was possible for his palms to sweat, if only so that he had some kind of outlet for the nerves that were racing through him at the thought of seeing Hannibal again. He paused just outside the kitchen, where Hannibal was sure to be, when new thoughts began filling his head. What if Hannibal didn’t want to see Will again? It had been twenty long years, and Will had apparently put Hannibal through a lot of misery. What if showing up now was only going to bring back memories that Hannibal wanted nothing to do with anymore? And it's not like Will and Hannibal had actually spent much time together, in the grand scheme of things. They'd been apart for much, much longer than they'd ever been together.
Before he could make a decision about whether he was going to turn back or not, there was a man springing out at him, and suddenly Will was pinned up against the wall with a knife at his throat. He blinked a few times in surprise, and then slowly looked at Hannibal’s face, letting himself take it all in if this was going to be the last sight he’d ever see.
It took a moment, but then recognition flashed through Hannibal’s eyes. That’s when he pressed the knife even harder, drawing a thin line of blood across Will’s neck. Will didn’t even flinch at the slight sting that accompanied it. “Hannibal,” he whispered. “I’m home.”
Hannibal’s eyes narrowed, and he didn’t let up his grip on Will for even a moment. “What are you doing here?”
Despite the obvious threat in Hannibal’s eyes, Will reached into his pocket and pulled out a ratty old piece of notebook paper that had become yellowed and faded from old age and being constantly handled. “I wanted to give this back to you.”
That’s when Hannibal finally released Will, though he didn’t make any move to step away, which left Will still trapped in place. He didn’t mind, though. Being so close to Hannibal again was far too pleasant for any of the other details to matter.
Hannibal slowly took the paper out of Will’s hand, and carefully unfolded it. The spots around the creases had whitened so much that they were nearly illegible, but Will knew that Hannibal knew exactly what the paper was supposed to say. Or at the very least, what it was supposed to mean. Hannibal gulped once, and then looked back at Will. His face was blank, but Will had always been able to read Hannibal far better than anyone else. “Why?”
Will shrugged. “I’ve missed you, Hannibal.”
Hannibal’s eyes narrowed, and he crushed the paper into a wrinkled ball before letting it fall onto the floor. “You left me,” he said in a perfectly calm voice. “If you think that you can just waltz back into my life as though nothing happened,” He didn’t finish the sentence, but the threat there was easy to hear.
“I just wanted to be real,” Will explained, forcing himself to keep his voice level and without any hint of whine to it. And maybe there was more to the story, especially all the parts involving Mischa, but once he'd left even her, he had wanted to be real. At least once he'd gotten used to the idea. “You wanted me to be all yours-”
The knife was suddenly stabbed into Will’s arm, but he ignored the pain. The blade had really only scrapped Will’s arm, and mostly just served to pin his shirt to the wall. “You were mine,” Hannibal hissed. Then he stepped back, leaving the knife in place. “But that was a long time ago. I have no use for such disloyalty.”
Will rolled his eyes. “See? This is exactly why I never came back. You seem to find it impossible to ever admit that maybe you’re not always right about everything, and that maybe other people should be allowed to have agency outside of what you want!”
“Get out of my house, Will.”
Will frowned. “Or what? You’ll throw a dinner party with me as the main course?”
For a moment it seemed as though Hannibal was completely frozen, and then he was suddenly right in Will’s face. “What are you talking about?”
Will scoffed, though he was sure that there was some guilt showing through on his face that he couldn’t contain. “I knew you for a very long time, Hannibal. Even before you saw me, I saw you, through your sister’s eyes. Then once you saw me, once you took that stupid paper and everything it entailed, I saw you too. I fought to make you go against your nature, but I knew that when I left, I was risking you embracing it. Every life you took is on my hands, but I just wanted to be selfish for once in my existence.”
Even with all of his experience, Will couldn’t tell what Hannibal was thinking in that moment. “You knew, and you came back anyways?” he murmured.
Will shrugged with the shoulder that wasn’t restricted. “Like I said, I’ve missed you.” He closed his eyes and turned his head to the side, pressing his cheek against the wall. “Kill me if you must, Hannibal. Consume me so that I can never be anyone else’s. Or tell me honestly that you want nothing to do with me. That’s the only way you’re going to be able to get rid of me. I can’t stand the thought of walking away from you again, not for all the ‘realness’ in the world.”
There was a brief pause, and Will refused to open his eyes. He might be ready to accept his fate, but that didn’t mean he wanted to watch it coming. He’d gotten his greedy fill of Hannibal already, and could die happy now.
So it came as a bit of a shock when there was suddenly a pair of scorching hot lips pressed up against Will’s, rough and unafraid to bite. Will kept his eyes closed as he eagerly returned the kiss, unaware that this was something he’d ever wanted, but knowing how much he wanted it in that moment.
It felt like centuries passed before Hannibal finally pulled away, suffering from the human need to breath. He reached up and very gently removed the knife, then tossed it down onto the floor without bothering to look. Will’s eyes fluttered open, and he watched as Hannibal leaned forward to kiss the small injury on Will’s arm. “You can never leave me again,” he threatened in a quiet voice.
“I won’t,” Will swore earnestly.
Hannibal nodded, and then he picked the paper up off the floor, carefully straightening it out as much as he could without risking tearing it. “I’ll have to make sure that nothing ever happens to this.”
Will nodded as well, feeling somewhat dazed. He wasn’t entirely sure what he’d been expecting when he showed up, but he knew without a doubt that this was the best possible outcome. He also knew that as Hannibal took ownership of that paper, written in nothing more than a child’s scribbles, that he would never let go of it again. There were no real discernible words anywhere on the paper, but it was still a binding contract, originally created by Mischa Lecter. And now it was Hannibal’s. And now Will was Hannibal’s again.
,,,
Years Ago
,,,
Will wished Mischa a happy birthday, and she grinned at him. “Guess what? For my birthday we’re going to go visit my big brother! I don't know if you remember him or not because we haven’t seen him in forever. We’re going all the way to America to visit him, can you believe it?”
“Sounds like fun.” As he watched Mischa skip off to begin packing her suitcase, Will couldn’t help feeling somewhat troubled. His charge was turning fourteen years old in just a few hours, but Will was still here. He’d never heard of anyone of his kind sticking around for so long, and Mischa seemed happy and healthy and had plenty of friends her own age, so Will had no idea what was keeping him around. Not that he hated being here; he loved Mischa and even though she was an orphan, he felt like something of a parent to her after their many years together.
The trip to America seemed to go by in a blur, and soon enough, Mischa and her aunt and uncle had arrived. It was a nice looking house, and Will mentally congratulated Mischa’s older brother on his ability to make such a nice living for himself. Though it made sense, since he had always seemed like a very intelligent young man from what Will could remember of him.
The door opened to reveal a handsome young man, and his resemblance to Mischa was quite clear now that they were both older. The visitors were ushered inside and lead to a sitting room with a fancy fireplace in it. The man motioned for the adults to sit down while he led Mischa down a hall and into a shiny kitchen. Will followed along as well, mostly because he always felt awkward when he was left alone in a room with Mischa’s guardians.
“Hannibal, you look so old!”
Hannibal laughed, and pulled Mischa into a tight hug. “As do you, my darling. It has been far too long since I’ve last seen you.”
Mischa grinned, and glanced over at Will for a moment before she reached into her pocket and pulled out a piece of scrap paper. Will recognized it immediately, since it was what bound him to Mischa until she no longer had need of him. “Hannibal, do you believe in imaginary friends?” Before the man could answer, she shoved the paper into his hands. “This is yours now!”
Hannibal blinked a few times, and then suddenly stiffened as he looked at Will, and it felt like his eyes were piercing right through him. Will looked at Mischa, who had a very self-satisfied air about her. “Mischa-”
“So that you won’t be lonely when I go back home,” she told Hannibal. And then she turned to look at Will. “And so that you don’t have to go away to some other family. Ours still needs you.” Then she left the room to return to her guardians, leaving Will and Hannibal to size each other up.
Hannibal narrowed his eyes dangerously. “Who are you?”
Will nodded towards the paper still in Hannibal’s hand. “I’m Will. Well, I guess I’m yours now.” At the gleam in Hannibal’s eyes, Will felt a shiver down his spine. “Nice to meet you officially.”
Hannibal’s eyes flicked up and down quickly, taking everything about Will in, and then he relaxed, just a little bit. “Oh, the pleasure is all mine,” he practically purred. Will gulped, and wondered just what the hell Mischa had gotten him into.