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A/N: Hello, people!
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It was an all encompassing sort of depression. One that shook him from the very center of his being. At times, he couldn't tell what it was he was feeling. At times he couldn't even tell if he was feeling. Then there were those moments of burgeoning self hatred or sadness when he was feeling too damn much!
It was like someone had taken a well heated blade and stabbed him over and over with it.
Will had very few regrets in his life because he rarely got involved in things in order to feel regret. This regret however, was an every day occurrence. It never went away, it never lightened up. He felt as if he was drowning in a vast ocean of turbulent emotions and for once, all of them were his own!
He had cared. Cared about the man who had hurt him so much through misguided actions. Who simply wanted what he thought was best for Will. No matter what, Will had truly cared for Hannibal and then… he lied.
Hannibal found out something. Will didn't know how but he wasn't shocked that Hannibal ended up knowing of his duplicity.
In Will's mind, the betrayal Hannibal had suffered through was worse than what Will had suffered.
Yes, he'd suffered in pain because of Hannibal and would never get over it. Yes, he'd been falsely accused of murder because of Hannibal. Yes, Hannibal had murdered their daughter twice. Will was fully aware of what had happened and by no means did he think Hannibal in the right to any of them.
But…
Will knew Hannibal was lonely. Just as lonely as Will was if not more. He knew that Hannibal had craved someone like him for years. Someone who would see who he truly was and come back for more. Hannibal had opened his heart to Will. For the first time in his life, he put aside his worries and protections and had trusted someone.
And Will had enjoyed it. He liked how someone like Hannibal could even find it in themselves to care for someone like him. Someone that everyone else in his life seemed to dislike or worry about.
But Will had acted too late.
He deserved it. Will wasn't so selfish as to believe that Hannibal wasn't right to have punished him for his betrayal. It was just… it hurt that Hannibal left him there.
It would have been more merciful to slit Will's throat as well and let him die before Hannibal left. But no… Hannibal deserted him there beside Abigail's dying body, allowing him to die in a more painful way, watching as his friend turned his back and walked out of his dimming life.
Hannibal hated him. That was why he let Will suffer till what he no doubt assumed was the very end. Will had broken that fragile trust Hannibal had given him and Hannibal took his heart and emotions and locked them away. He cut off every part of his life that would remind him of Will and then left without looking back once.
Yet Will had managed to survive, not that he found that revelation to be anything of great import. He was still left to wallow in painful, gnawing loneliness. For without Hannibal, he was simply an actor, putting on makeup that the world wanted to see. Taking his role to heart and doing as they expected of him.
They didn't appreciate him and what he could do. They didn't care about him the way Hannibal did. They didn't want to get to know him like Hannibal had. He was there for when he was of use and forgotten when he wasn't.
Will had been in a coma for a month and upon wakening, he knew what had happened and he hated himself all the more for it.
He'd been left to die and in the end he couldn't even manage as Hannibal had wanted him to.
Alana was there. She tried. Will knew that no matter how hard it was for her to understand, she still tried to. She would never really get it, but she didn't judge him. She never commented on why she found him sitting in Hannibal's kitchen, leaning against the wall he'd been abandoned by. She never raised a brow.
She simply asked how he was handling everything and for once he told her. Told her everything on his mind. She may never understand the way he did, but not once did Will see a sneer, or a frown, or even pity. So in his wading into the darkness of oblivion, he had a small light to guide his way and that was good enough.
Chiyoh was very assertive once she got her feelings out.
Will knew that manipulating her into murder wasn't the best of choices, but she would remain stranded in Castle Lecter otherwise. He released the man and Chiyoh had to fight for her life, but she'd finally severed all ties to that wretched place and was able to leave.
Will then took up the body and displayed it as it was meant to be. Should Hannibal ever return, he would see it and understand the significance of the man's transformation into a dragonfly.
Chiyoh however, had decided to follow after him them.
He knew she did. She never stayed in the same area as he, but he knew she was around.
Her first note to him wasn't shocking.
'If you do not eat breakfast, I will shoot you.'
He'd greatly underestimated her. He didn't eat breakfast and she shot him from a hundred yards away. Then came to his hotel room and patched him up quickly, before shoving the plate of food at him and sitting there imposingly until he was finished.
Will learned very quickly that he'd somehow caught himself a Shugo Tenshi.
Chiyoh rarely joined him in person, but when she did, they never spoke. They merely sat in silence and enjoyed their surroundings.
In her company, Will had been to Paris, Brussels, Edinburgh, Barcelona, and Rome. Will intended to visit every place he and Hannibal had ever spoken about. He wanted to understand why Hannibal adored these places so much. He wanted to know before he expired.
Chiyoh never questioned him. She merely tagged along for some reason, leaving him to his depression and only administering a threat when he hadn't eaten or slept enough.
Will wondered if she knew that he was doing it deliberately. He wouldn't put it past her. She seemed to know everything.
"Where will we go now?" she asked, sipping her tea delicately.
"I was thinking Florence."
What better way to end his itinerary?
Bedelia Du Maurier was not expecting to see Will Graham of all people, sitting outside a cafe on her usual trek through the city. He was simply sitting, staring into a teacup. Even as she sat apart from him, watching for several moments, he had never looked up once. His arm rested in a sling and he didn't seem to be bothered at all by it.
His expression never changed, but Bedelia could tell. He wasn't lost in his mind or losing time. He was present... but not.
She slipped from her seat and calmly approached his table, setting her own cup down and asking, "May I join you?"
He looked up and she was confronted with dull, grey eyes. There was no spark to them. No life at all. He stared for a moment, before shrugging and looking off across the bridge.
She sat gently, still intrigued over what was wrong with him.
"It was foolish for you to have come here," he said finally, confusing her.
"He loves Florence the most. He'll find you. He'll tear you apart."
So he did not know that Hannibal was in Florence. He was there of his own accord for some yet unknown reason.
"I won't be staying here for too long," she merely answered. She had plans to escape him. She'd never truly be free of him, but she had time to postpone his plans for her.
"I hope for your sake that you're right."
Will Graham's voice didn't waver. There was no inflection. The only sort of emotion she could see in him was annoyance when he rolled his eyes slightly and asked his waiter to get him a scone.
"I have a guardian angel who watches over me," he explained, looking upwards, across the water. "She says that if I don't sleep and eat, she'll shoot me again."
Whoever this 'guardian' was, she was controlling but caring to a degree. If Will Graham had to be threatened into taking care of himself, then his emotional and mental health were at war, which was negatively affecting his physical health.
Judging by how dead he seemed, she knew she wasn't incorrect.
"What brings you to Florence?" asked Bedelia, wondering how much he'd be willing to part with. His utter lack of safety in regards to anything he had already said, told her much about him.
The disregard to his own health and his lack of presence were signs of depression, though to what extent she didn't know.
"Just a little road trip. This is the last stop on my journey."
"Your journey to where?"
He never answered. He simply ate the scone and drank his tea. There were several moments of just staring off into the water, before he stood.
Bedelia easily took notice of the clothing much too fine for his preferences. Very Hannibal like actually, without the hideous plaid. A long, black trench coat that made him look more slim. A dark blue suit beneath it with a silken, white tie. Beneath that, she could see a vest.
It all clicked into place. Will Graham was depressed over Hannibal leaving him and was clinging to everything reminding him of Hannibal. He emulated Hannibal's clothing choices, visited his most favored place, and now that she thought of it, even sat like he had and took his tea the very same way Hannibal did.
Will Graham had truly died in Hannibal Lecter's kitchen and a mere shade walked around in his body now, trying to stay connected to the monster it cared for.
"They say life is a long and winding journey." She was jarred back to the present by his words.
She looked up, seeing him smile without humor.
"Goodbye, Bedelia."
He slowly turned and walked away, leaving her to process his departure.
He was ending his journey in Florence. 'Life is a long and winding journey'.
Damn it!
When Hannibal had taken up his old hobby once again, he'd done so in hopes of drawing the FBI and inevitably Will Graham to him. No matter what he said, he was obsessed with Will Graham and would always be. He was so certain that Graham would seek him out.
Hannibal always said that Will graham was unpredictable and that no matter what, he could never truly know what Graham would decide to do. Hannibal had banked on the fact that their connection was so strong, it would call Graham across the Atlantic Ocean and right into his arms. He never once assumed that the man would fall into a languishing depression and seek to take his own life because of it.
She stood hastily. She wouldn't be able to hide this. Despite how good she was, Hannibal was better and he'd immediately know that she'd been in company on this day. She wouldn't and shouldn't hide it from him, because it could aggravate her plans for escape.
Whatever Hannibal decided to do with Will Graham was his choice. Bedelia simply wanted a way out of this life.
Hannibal could smell a familiar scent on Bedelia when she entered the room. It was the same aftershave he used to wear, back in Baltimore.
She placed her handbag down and sat in the armchair, across from him. Her leg folded elegantly over the other and she assumed her usual 'therapy position'.
"I met a blast from the past while having tea, today."
Her voice lowered in pitch just a bit as she looked him in the eye, a challenge he accepted easily, placing his book down.
"You got your wish. Will Graham is in Florence."
Hannibal could feel the smug pride welling up inside of him. He knew Will would understand eventually. He hadn't expected it to happen so soon though, which made him even happier.
"Unfortunately," continued Bedelia, "-he does not know that you are here."
What?
"He admonished me for being here. Said that it was foolish because this is your most favored place. That you will 'find me' and 'tear me apart'."
If Will wasn't in Florence looking for Hannibal, why was he in Florence at all?
"I learned some interesting facts during out small discussion," Bedelia said, looking away from him in order to stare out the window. "He had managed to attain a watcher. She follows at a distance and threatens him with bullets if he doesn't eat or sleep. His left arm is in a sling, so I assume she was serious."
A flash of annoyance spears him. Someone else dared to injure his Will?
"Will Graham," sighed Bedelia, "-is like a walking corpse. I remember the vividness of his eyes. They are now the most dull shade of grey I have ever seen."
Curious.
"He stares not because he is lost, but because his mind no longer cares. He gives no reaction, no vocal inflection, and doesn't care about his health enough so a woman has to threaten him with armed violence to get him to help himself."
Bedelia looked imploring and completely detached at the same time. She spoke as if nothing was wrong, but her words were a cause for concern.
"Will Graham said he was on a journey and that Florence was the last stop. Several minutes he later, we parted ways with him saying, 'life is a long and winding journey'. He left quickly."
Bedelia stood then, sending him a look that spoke so much, "Will Graham is not as you left him. He is dead inside and his depression is so deep and agonizing, he plans to end his own life in your most favored place. What you choose to do now, is entirely up to you. I do hope however, that you take full responsibility for your actions and realize what your actions in regards to these revelations, will say about you."
She left him alone to his thoughts, slipping into their shared bedroom silently.
This… was not how it was supposed to happen. Hannibal stood swiftly, fetching his coat on the way to the door. Suicide was the enemy.
His dear, sweet William always taking the surprising route. Hannibal could not let him go in such a way. If Will truly wished to depart from this life, that Hannibal would gladly ease his way. He hoped however, that he could convince him to not want for death.
He knew the cafe Bedelia frequented. Once there, he discreetly sniffed a few times, locating where she had sat and then where she had moved, before coming into contact with his old aftershave.
Will was wearing his aftershave.
The realization made him tingle just the slightest.
The scent wasn't even an hour old and it still permeated the air, allowing him to follow it. That aftershave was of a rare variety sold only in Florida. Hannibal had really liked it and had always purchased more when he ran out. It was unlikely anyone in Florence would be wearing the same kind as Will was.
Of all the places to be lead to, Hannibal wasn't expecting the Ponte alla Carraia. Will was sitting on the wall, staring off into the water. Standing at the other end of the bridge, was a familiar face Hannibal had expected to see.
Chiyoh. She had been watching Will intently until she noticed Hannibal. She did not move though, hands tightly clutching the case between her palms.
So Chiyoh was the watcher Bedelia spoke of. That meant that Will had gone to Lithuania and if he'd gotten her to leave the castle, he or she had finally killed Mischa's murderer.
Considering the situation carefully, Hannibal decided that a direct approach was best.
Will gave no indication that he heard Hannibal's approach. He didn't look away from the water. Up close, Hannibal could see the weary lines around his eyes and the blank stare Bedelia seemed to find so insulting.
"Will?"
A twitch of the eye. Small, but still something.
"Will, it is rude to ignore people when they are speaking to you."
There was a small laugh, though no humor filled it. Will confronted Hannibal with his 'dead' eyes and Hannibal was astounded and horrified, He could Will. All of him.
He was much thinner, his prominent jaw much too sharp now. His body was thinner, smaller. He was pale and lifeless. There was no longer a wonder as to why Chiyoh had to threaten him to eat.
"What have you done to yourself, dear Will?"
A bland smile is his answer.
"I deserve this, you already know that. We've talked about this before."
No they hadn't, which lead him to believe that Will was hallucinating him. And Will said he 'deserved this'. This depression? This madness? Will thought he deserved to suffer?
"Why do you deserve it, Will? What have you done that warrants such thoughts and feelings?"
Will's eyes became glassy, bottom lip quivering. Will had only ever shed one tear in Hannibal's presence before and Hannibal did not like the horrible feeling it gave him to realize that Will was crying because of him. In the long run, it was because of him.
"H-He left me to d-die 'cause h-he h-hates m-me."
Hannibal most certainly did not hate Will! He was hurt yes, but he didn't hate him. Before he could try to reassure the man, his gasps were coming in faster and he continued to speak through his hyperventilating.
"He d-doesn't want m-me. And I couldn't even d-die like he wanted m-me to!"
What kind of emotional turmoil had Will put himself through?! Hannibal didn't know where all these thoughts came from or who they possibly came from, but he couldn't allow them to continue.
Despite Will's attempts to push him away, Hannibal managed to wrap his arms around the brunet and pull him into a strong embrace. Will's body shook with hysterical sobs and Hannibal was so glad no one besides Chiyoh was around to witness this. Will disliked attention after all.
He shushed the younger man, running fingers through his combed back curls, dislodging them in the process. While Will was a stunning figure when being proper, Hannibal preferred the messier version of him. All ruffled and looking for all intents and purposes as if he'd just roll out of bed after a spectacular round of sex… with Hannibal of course.
"I do not hate you, Will. I may have landed a killing blow, but I knew you'd survive. I was hoping… I was hoping that you'd want to find me. I had hoped you'd come to Florence in search of me, so that we may begin anew.
What came from the chrysalis is beyond my control. Never have I wished that were not the case, else you wouldn't have been so… unnecessarily hurt these past few months."
He clutched his boy closer, enjoying how Will calmed down at the sound of his voice.
"You always manage to surprise me, Will," said Hannibal fondly, though this particular surprise wasn't pleasant in the slightest.
"I'm sorry… Hannibal."
"I already forgave you, Will. Will you forgive me?"
Will's head nodded against his breast bone and Hannibal sighed, feeling much more at peace than he had in the past few months.
"I'm really sorry."
Will pushed away and all Hannibal saw was the flash of a blade in Will's free hand and said hand going for Will's pale throat.
Hannibal lunged, grabbing Will's arm and struggling against him to stop him from slitting his own throat. Will was much stronger than Hannibal had anticipated. Honestly, where did this strength come from?
"Will, cease this foolishness now!"
The man put up a good fight, but Hannibal would do what he could to keep Will alive. He did not want to kill Will and did not want Will to kill himself. In a panic, Hannibal grabbed that delicate wrist - that was much too thin for his liking - and snapped it.
Will merely grunted, but his hold on the blade went slack and Hannibal snatched it away. Will fell back, taking the doctor with him to the cold stone of the bridge, Hannibal mindful of his injured arm.
"I suppose, I'm not hallucinating this time," Will said, voice calm once more, though sounding confused.
"No, you aren't Will."
"How? How can you forgive me when I can't even forgive me?"
Will wouldn't meet his gaze, but Hannibal was persistent. With his free hand - since the other was cradling the now broken wrist of his beloved Will - Hannibal turned that gaunt face until grey met dark brown. "Will, you forget that you warned me. It shows that even though you had planned to set me up and let me fall, you cared about me. You'd grown fond of me during your little mission and couldn't stand the thought of me being imprisoned. You wanted me to go and be free.
That is why I can forgive you and why I still want you. I had gone through something similar with you. You had become important and my plans for you unraveled. I couldn't kill you so I did what I could to keep you alive and where I could find you. I learned to care. I can understand to a degree and it is because of that, that I don't fault you."
Will sniffed, most likely on the verge of another meltdown.
"Though I would have preferred that you had killed Freddie Lounds," Hannibal added lightly, hoping it lifted the dreary atmosphere.
Will cracked a smile, a real one. It was breathtaking. "She broke into my hospital room and took photos of me while in the coma. I got to sue her and I took all her money and everything she owned. Last I heard, she was living under a bridge because she's homeless and no one trusts her to not write about them if they took her in."
Turnabout's fair play. Hannibal liked it. A life of poverty for a woman who ruined so many lives. Perhaps... she didn't need to die. Death would have bee a reprieve for her.
At the sound of footsteps, both looked over, seeing Chiyoh.
"You might want to move to a better location. Some people are coming."
Hannibal stood, placing the knife in his pocket and reaching down to help Will up. "Come."
Bedelia did not blink when she saw who came through the door. In fact, she had set the table for four people and had prepared two guest bedrooms, in which the first she'd already moved her belongings to, leaving Chiyoh to her own room and Will to share with Hannibal.
Hannibal only left Will's side when Chiyoh agreed to watch over him to make certain that he did not attempt suicide once more.
Hannibal cooked, his mind on Will the entire time.
Will had taken his absence so badly, he emulated Hannibal's mannerisms and dressing patterns. While nice to see Will looking so clean and well cut, Hannibal preferred when he was comfortable in his own skin.
While eating, Hannibal realized how much work it would take to wean Will out of Hannibal's mind and get him to stop mirroring his personality. Hannibal was there and wasn't going to leave him, so Will wouldn't need to mimic him in order to feel close to him.
That evening, Hannibal pulled an emotionally drained Will into bed and allowed the younger man to cling to him desperately, trying to find some semblance of peace amidst his roiling emotions.
Will sighed, his face tucked into the older man's shoulder, rubbing his cheek against it.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled unnecessarily once more.
"Everything will be fine, Will," whispered Hannibal.
Eventually.
A/N: DONE!
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CHECK ME OUT ON TUMBLR. HELLY-WATERMELONSMELLINFELLON. I FOLLOW BACK.