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A strike of lightning, followed by a rumble of thunder wasn’t enough to tempt former FBI agent Will Graham into seeking shelter. If anything, he was encouraged. He turned his head higher as he approached a massive oak, fingers trailing on the damp bark as he imagined climbing to the very top and willing the force of nature to strike him instead. Would that take away all of pain that he felt in his heart? Or would the man inside merely patch him back up and force him back to life like he always did?
Soaked to the bone, Will couldn’t remember a time he felt this cold. His fingertips were numb, blood flow cut off from them long ago from the way that Will had been squeezing his hands so tightly. The vein along his forehead felt like it was about to break free at any moment, bursting with the anger that Will had contained for so long. Perhaps screaming into the abyss would produce that same feeling, or take him further down the path to insanity.
Will heard the clogging steps before he heard the familiar voice even through the harsh wind whipping past them. “William,” the voice called above the storm.
“I told you that I’d come in when I’m ready and I’m not ready,” Will growled over his shoulder before turning back to the oak. He pressed his palms firmly on the trunk until his chest was square with the tree. When he turned his face skyway, the rain hit harder as his lips parted to taste the slightly acidic rain water.
Hannibal narrowed his eyes against the onslaught, a bit taken aback by Will’s attitude. “I do understand that, but the weather had taken a turn. I do not wish you to catch a chill.”
“I’m fine.”While Will’s voice left no room for argument, he knew Hannibal wasn’t about to leave good enough alone. He was known to push and now was no exception. “Can’t you just leave me alone?!”
“I will once you are safely inside.”
With a furious snarl over his shoulder, Will barged past Hannibal without another word. His boots sunk into the pine nettle covered ground until he padded up the stone driveway to their quaint cottage. Hannibal kept insisting they could afford more, but Will had refused anywhere without quick access to the woods and a lake. If he was going to give up what was left of his life, and his dogs, then he couldn’t compromise on this.
Will attempted to slam the door only for Hannibal to appear to hold the hinges before it could. A fresh wave of hostility rolled through him as stormed through the living room. All the pent up energy he felt coiling had no real escape, and even the chill appeared affected by that rage boiling inside of him.
“You’re dripping on the hardwood.”
That was the final straw. Will whipped around with one hand in his hair, tugging at the thick curls. “Would you just fuck off?”
“William,” Hannibal scolded.
“You’re not my father so stop acting like it.” Will made a show of shaking his head, droplets of water raining down on Hannibal’s precious floor and upholstery. Part of him wanted to rip off his shirt and wring it out right then and there, but he was almost certain that the cannibal would actually murder him if he did so. There was only a certain amount of pettiness that Hannibal would tolerate on the best of days.
Hannibal’s gaze turned cold. “I would much prefer we had a conversation as adults instead of acting childish. This passive aggressiveness will get us nowhere.”
Will broke out into a cackle of laughter until moisture filled his gaze. A rough hand came to swipe the evidence away as he hurried to cross his arms over his chest. “You’re one to fucking talk. Do you even know what day it is? Huh?”
It didn’t take long for Hannibal to rack his brain for what Will meant. Somehow that even made things worse.
“If you’re talking about the anniversary of Abigail’s death, then yes I am aware of the date,” Hannibal replied.
Suddenly, Will lunged, hands outstretched as he aimed for Hannibal’s throat. Hannibal was ready, taking Will by the wrists and using his body weight against him as he turned sharply, the momentum sending Will slamming into the opposing wall. The air was knocked right from him as Will slumped to the ground with Hannibal still gripping his wrist. Their weight was tipped backwards as Will landed flat on his back with Hannibal on top of him, arms poised over his head while Hannibal pressed down, teeth bared against Will’s exposed throat.
Will twisted his middle only for Hannibal’s knee to raise, and press down on his tender abdomen until Will grunted out in pain. With the other bent knee, Hannibal balanced himself against Will’s attempts to throw him off. The hunter inside of him roared, and for a moment, Will swore he saw thickened antlers growing from Hannibal’s head. It was only the frantic look of meeting his gaze and not finding those pitch black eyes that reminded him that it was Hannibal and not the stag ready to sear those antlers into the tender flesh of his throat.
“Have we finished,” Hannibal questioned when Will no longer fought him.
Will curled his top lip to reveal his teeth. “Don’t patronize me.” His head lifted off the ground onto to fall with a thump, the extra weight brought on by the moisture of his clothing weighing him down. “And get off of me!”
Amusement twinkled in Hannibal’s eyes, hungry and eager. His grip seemed to momentarily tighten on Will’s wrists as his nose traced from Will’s shoulder to the opposite jaw in one fluid motion. His face gave away nothing as he let go of Will’s wrists, leaving small prints deep enough to bruise. Hannibal swung his leg over Will swiftly until he sitting on the floor, expression unreadable as he stared ahead expectantly at Will.
Will fought his way to a sitting position, breath coming in unruly pants. The pent up energy he had felt just minutes ago had faded into oblivion, leaving in its place a crippling numbness. Nothing mattered anymore and even the anger that he felt for Hannibal had faded. Indifference was the only thing in his mind when he looked at the man that he called his husband. Maybe this was where everything was always meant to lead.
He rolled back to his knees then to a standing position. The wet clothing that clung to him was beginning to bother him as it cooled in uncomfortable ways. He pulled at the slick material against his chest and fixed Hannibal, who was still sitting on the floor, with a stern glare.
“I’m going to take a shower. Don’t even think about following me,” he warned.
“My dear, I would never.”
Will turned away before stopping dead and casting one last glance over his shoulder. “I’m not as stupid as you think I am. Don’t even try it.”
Whether or not Hannibal knew exactly what Will meant, he didn’t show it. He gave a small dip of his head as though inviting Will to do whatever he believed he needed to do.
Will slipped out of the living room, down the hallway, and to their bathroom. He slammed the door shut, thankful he already had a change of clothes in there ready as he had been hoping to get some fishing done before the weather had taken a turn. That meant less time that he could potentially run into Hannibal, with his calm demeanor and unreadable expression. Hannibal had been the one person that Will had never been able to empathize with, to truly spy into the inner workings of his mind to figure out how he felt. Right now that was the furthest thing on his mind.
He switched on the faucet in the shower so that the hot water sprayed against the back wall. The bathroom began to fill with steam, chasing away the worst of the chill from his body. Clothes were peeled off of his body, from his shirt to his slacks and boxers. His socks had to be torn free from where they had bunched at his ankles while inside his boots. Normally not bothered by dampness, this was causing his skin to prickle uncomfortably and he wanted nothing more than to step into the shower and stay in there for a lifetime.
“Fuck,” Will sighed as he raised his hands to his face and pressed hard until bursts of colors shone behind his eyes. He pushed the wettest strands of curls back from his forehead and prepared for the brisk change from the cool air and the heat from the shower.
Will stepped hesitantly inside the glass door of the shower, wincing at the sudden warmth. He eased back in slowly and breathed heavily as he plunged his head into the steady stream, washing away the frigid rain and replacing it with the scalding heat that modern life have given them. He supposed he should be thankful Hannibal for those kind of luxuries as he would’ve never been able to afford any of this where they lived now, yet all he still had was contempt for his lover.
Fingers spread, Will scrubbed hard against his scalp to rid himself of the disgust that he felt. After adding a generous amount of shampoo and working it in, he stayed under the spray, allowing the suds to roll down his shoulders and pool at this feet. The light soap combined with water suddenly flashed red in his mind and he jumped backwards, head colliding harshly against the back of the shower with a horrifying crack. His heels caught on the slippery floor and sent him crashing back, hip striking the corner of the shower at an awkward angle and legs sprawled from under him.
Will coughed harshly as the shower continued to spray him in the face. Shampoo ran down his forehead, burning his eyes the moment they came into contact with them. The roar behind his skull was enough to deter him from moving, much less standing. He groaned hard and willed for himself to heave himself up. Whatever strength he had possessed earlier had completely vanished, leaving him weak and tired. Maybe taking a nap here wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
“Will? Are you alright?”
Will swore under his breath as his chin fell forward against his chest. The water from the shower hit him more dead on this way, liquid flowing in and out of his mouth as he started to answer. “Fine, Hannibal, just slipped,” he snapped back.
Hannibal’s hand found its way to the outside handle, giving it a jiggle to find it unlocked. “May I come in? You don’t sound alright.”
Will rolled his eyes nearly the entire way into the back of his head, hand clasping into a fist to come down hard on his outer thigh. Was he doomed to always need to rely on Hannibal? It sure as hell seemed like it.
“Fine.”
The moment those words were out of his mouth, Hannibal pushed the door wide open. He strolled in and made a beeline for the shower, forcing the door open and turning off the steady stream. Will almost missed it the moment it was gone, goosebumps sprouting along the backs of his arms as he looked up at Hannibal with a glimmer of hostility in his darkening gaze.
“Lean forward,” Hannibal instructed as he took on the confident tone of a doctor.
Will did as he was asked without complaint, wincing as Hannibal palpated certain areas of his skull with adept fingers, gliding effortlessly through clumps of damp curls in the process.
“Is any of that painful?”
“Well, it doesn’t feel good!”
Hannibal ignored Will’s clipped tone and drew back, crouching down so that he was eye level with Will. “I don’t see any obvious signs of severe trauma. Though that area may be tender for the remainder of the day into tomorrow.”
‘I could’ve told you that,’ Will wanted to hiss but mercifully kept his mouth shut to avoid another fight. Instead, he weakly shrugged, fully giving in to the fact that he needed Hannibal’s assistance yet again.
“Come. Let’s get you up and into some warm clothing. Tomorrow I will give your hair a thorough cleaning. For now, I do want to avoid a chill at all costs.” Hannibal took one arm and wrapped it around Will’s middle, while the other planted firm on the glass wall beside him for an anchor. With a count to three, he pulled forward while Will did his best to attempt to stand with limited success. Luckily, with Hannibal’s added strength, he found himself upright in almost no time, dizzy when he tried to push Hannibal away.
Hannibal only held stronger as he guided Will out of the one step out of the shower. “Your stubbornness it not becoming of you. I do believe that will only make things worse.”
“Do you ever stop talking,” Will managed to grumble when he was finally pulled free of the shower, glowering at Hannibal through bleary eyes.
Hannibal tipped his head to the side almost innocently. “I believed my voice was a tether for you. Perhaps I was sorely mistaken.”
Will wanted to roll his eyes if not for the still throbbing back in the back of his head. Not trusting that it wouldn’t prompt a full on migraine, he held his tongue once more as Hannibal set him on the marble step that led to their full jacuzzi tub. He should’ve used that instead and perhaps he wouldn’t have found himself in this predicament.
Hannibal left his side momentarily to fetch his change of clothes that consisted of a plain cotton t-shirt and boxers. It was often something he wore throughout the house when they had no plans to go anywhere else. Hannibal hadn’t protested to it as far as Will knew, and had kept his promise that their life here would be as comparable to his life in Wolf Trap as they could possibly make it.
Will snatched the clothing from Hannibal, refusing the let the doctor have the satisfaction of helping him change. “M’fine now,” Will insisted with a look at the door. “You can leave now.”
“This is incredibly rude for you to—“
“You know what’s rude? You’re not even acknowledging that this day may be hard for me. Are you too much of a dick to understand that,” Will seethed as he pulled the boxes up over his hips, suppressing a groan as his fingers grazed over the same hip that had struck the wall on the way down.
Hannibal’s gaze turned predatory. Was this the look his victims saw before their lives were taken? If so, that was downright terrifying.
“We will have this conversation when you can do so with dignity and respect. Right now your behavior is beneath me.” Though he didn’t raise his voice, Will certainly heard the anger that hardened his tone. He longed to match it with his own as Hannibal disappeared back out of the bathroom, the door closing behind him firmly.
Will couldn’t help but snicker to himself. “That got him all riled. Hell, if all I have to do is utter some curses at him, maybe I should do that more often.”
As enticing at that idea sounded at the moment, he truly doubted he would be able to do so when he was of sounder mind. Contrary to what Hannibal believed, Will didn’t receive any gratification from their arguments, which were growing in intensity and frequency by the day. He worked things out by talking them through and releasing that anger while Hannibal was one to store it and was very calculated in what he showed. They were like two sides of two very different coins.
Will finished getting dressed and went to stand, finding the world tipping dangerously. He clutched the edge of the vanity hard, blinking hard a half dozen times to see if that righted it. Things still seemed off center and hazy, though he supposed he could take a step without immediately falling forward. Hannibal may be disappointed, but he could make it to their bedroom on his own if he took it slow.
Once in the hallway, Will momentarily debated about taking a turn to the guest bedroom instead. It was drafty and used more for storage than anything now, though he could make it work. Then again, he didn’t think Hannibal was above changing the thermostat to make it even more frigid in there, and on top of Will’s day in the rain, he didn’t trust his body not to start a fever. Encephalitis had fucked his immune system over and now any illness sent his body haywire.
To the master bedroom he went.
The short, shuffled steps got him there eventually. He found it unoccupied and didn’t hesitate to take up his side of the bed. He sat down with a hefty sigh, fingers running through his wet hair. Waiting for it to dry would take far too long, and he’d rather deal with more grumbling from Hannibal about sleeping on a pillow with wet hair than spending anymore time awake during this wretched day.
He fell back down with an undignified grunt, twisting and rolling onto his side with the covers pulled up to his chin. His skin still felt cold to the touch and he wanted nothing more than for the warmth of the bed to consume him. Normally he would search out Hannibal’s warmth, those strong arms encompassing him and holding him close as Will became lost in that scent. He sobered quickly from that delusion as his thoughts about Hannibal remained the same, unwilling to change no matter what the older man potentially said and did.
As if his thoughts summoned him, Will heard Hannibal padding throughout the room almost silently. Will did his best to pretend to be asleep, body rigid and shoulders hunched. For the life of him he couldn’t bring himself to relax any further, waiting for the next bought of arguing to transpire.
“You may stop pretending,” Hannibal murmured silkily. “I can smell the difference on you when you’re sleeping.”
Will doubted that was true, though he couldn’t dispute the truth. Begrudgingly, Will pulled the covers down slightly but didn’t sit up. He couldn’t even cast a glance so much in Hannibal’s direction, looking at the pillow as thought it was the most interesting thing in the universe.
The bed suddenly dipped as Hannibal came to sit on his side of the bed. He reached out to rest a hand on Will’s hip, only for the agent to pull away. Hannibal wiggled his fingers as though he wanted to try again, but he thought better of it and slipped his hand back down at his side while keeping his attention on the smaller man.
“Is this how you’re going to be for the rest of the evening?”
“Hannibal, please, how can I tell you to leave me alone in a language that you understand,” Will complained as he tugged his fingers in his hair and gripped hard at the wet ends.
Hannibal’s tongue scraped the back of his teeth. Will could practically hear the gears turning in his head, to how he could persuade him into giving up his senseless disagreement. To Will it wasn’t senseless in the slightest. No matter how much Hannibal wanted to push this way, on this day every year, Will was left to contemplate what he was actually doing and why he had allowed all of this to happen in the first place.
“Darkness comes in many forms, my dear Will. Don’t think I’m the only one here who has taken that step.” Silent as a shadow, Hannibal rose to his feet and left the room, turning off the light on his way out as he closed the door softly behind him.
Will hated the dark even more than Hannibal himself tended to. Still, he found more comfort in it than he had with Hannibal. He gave a harsh shudder as the tears started to flow. He pulled his pillow down to hold it against his chest and attempted to imagine it to be Winston as if his happy dog could wag his tail and lap his tears away. How had he given all that up for this life?
‘I didn’t have a choice,’ Will thought to himself. ‘In the end, this is how it always had to be.’
Hannibal may have orchestrated everything, but he was right about one thing; there was darkness in Will that he had started to welcome. There was no taking it back either. In more ways than one, he had finally become the man he had spent a considerable part of his life trying to figure out.
‘Hannibal is right. I am some of that darkness, and it’s too late to go crawling back into the light.’