Chapter Text
They’re exhausted.
Swimming in a rocky ocean after almost drowning, after a fight filled with stabbing and biting, after Will had to fight to the surface, keeping Hannibal close to his chest with a burst of adrenaline, they were exhausted.
Hannibal hadn’t woken up besides during their short walk from the car into a nondescript motel and to bandage up their wounds, Will having just enough energy to drive them there and keep Hannibal and himself awake as wounds were cleaned and stitches were sewn. All that would be worrying is the possibility of infection.
They were exhausted, but Will couldn’t sleep. He felt the urge to cry, oddly enough, as he rested his head on Hannibal’s chest, the two of them curled up together underneath the scratchy sheets. They would be fine but all Will could think was that he wish he hadn’t tipped them over the edge in his ecstasy.
He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood in his mouth, the taste disgustingly familiar after the stab wound in his cheek had poured blood into his mouth for almost an hour. Will couldn’t have imagined a life without Hannibal and tipping them over the cliff seemed the best solution. Not just getting them fixed up and driving off into another country.
He resisted the urge to shake his head, only lightly rubbing his non injured cheek against the soft hair on Hannibal’s pectoral. They’d have to be on the road in a few hours. Find someplace to go where they wouldn’t be caught or at least extradited. Cuba would work, if Hannibal had forged paperwork to fly with. They could go to Mexico and fly from there.
Whatever the plan, Hannibal would stay by his side. Or Will would kill them both. He couldn’t stand to leave his side, literally at the moment. He doubted that Hannibal would feel any differently when he woke up.
Will wondered if he should’ve just driven to Hannibal’s instead of calling him all those years ago before the double agent trap. Let Hannibal take him and Abigail to see the world with no consequence. Eat all the food he served and either participate or observe in all activities.
He felt his throat tightening at the memory of the extreme sadness and disappointment that Hannibal had shown. Will had felt it down to his bones, and all he could do was bury his face in Hannibal’s neck when the doctor had near disemboweled him.
The tears were tingling at the corners of Will’s eyes as he reached up, his gaze falling on Hannibal’s shorter hair, fingers following soon after. He’d liked it when it was messy and long, hovering just over his eyes. He couldn’t help the guilt that washed over him. If he’d just accepted Hannibal and left with him after Muskrat farm, this all could’ve been avoided.
He finally lets himself shake his head a small bit to physically get rid of the thoughts. Hannibal and him owned each other now. There was no going back and there was no use in looking back at the past in regret and guilt. When Will looks up at Hannibal again, the Ripper’s eyes are just slightly open, love and care obvious in them.
“Go to sleep, dear Will. I can hear your thinking,” Hannibal’s voice is gravelly from the CPR Will had done, and the man reaches up and presses Will’s head back against his chest gently. “We will leave just before dawn, and we will leave. Together, this time,” Hannibal says the last part in a whisper, licking his bottom lip ever so slightly.
“Together,” Will nods minutely and hugs Hannibal’s abdomen carefully with one arm, avoiding the gunshot wound. Hearing Hannibal’s first words since before they dropped off the cliff makes Will relax intensely, muscles without any tension before he finally drops off into a slightly uncomfortable sleep with his mind calming down completely.
They would be together. For the rest of their lives. Possibly longer. For then, they rested, the calm of the eye of the storm, chaos before and chaos to come.