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Married life has been treating Hannibal and Will quite well. After nearly five years of it, they’ve learned to live with each other, and respect each other in ways they couldn’t earlier on in their relationship. It’s not perfect, but it’s good. Great, even.
Will kept his property in Wolf Trap for seclusion during their hobbies, but they’ve been living in Maryland with their two kids and eight dogs. They have a nice home just a few miles away from Alana and her wife, and their son, Morgan. After Hannibal and Will were called by them in a panic, asking for help after killing Margot’s brother, they revealed that Abigail is still alive. It was lucky that barely any questions were asked by the women, and with a confidant as rich and powerful as Margot Verger, Abigail was able to move back home and assume a new identity without fear of being caught.
They’re a family now.
Will loves his life, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t nights when he needs some space. On nights where things just get too hard and he won’t risk his relationship by saying something wrong. Most of those nights, it’s because he misses Beverly.
He looks at his kids and sees her in them. He loves them so, so much, but… He loved Beverly, too.
He has a family, but there will always be a piece missing from it, no matter how many strays he brings in.
On these nights, he goes to visit her.
Just days before the kids are supposed to start their first year of elementary school, when everyone is happy and scrambling to get everything ready, he just can’t take it anymore.
Hannibal sits at the kitchen table, overlooking some papers for work. The kids run around him, chased by Abigail, and several dogs. Will isn’t mad at him anymore. He doesn’t resent him for what he had to do. He doesn’t wish it was himself instead of her. They have a good relationship despite it.
He crosses the kitchen from the doorway, mostly ignored by all the occupants of the room.
He stops beside Hannibal, who removes his reading glasses and looks up at Will, fondly.
“I’m going to go,” Will tells him.
He doesn’t need to explain where because after five years of marriage, Hannibal knows what he means.
“Will you be home for dinner?” Hannibal asks.
Will just shrugs, forcing a smile onto his face. He’s overwhelmingly sad at the moment. He doesn’t have much on his mind beside that.
“I’ll make you something, anyway,” Hannibal promises.
He glances over at Mischa and Lucy, who are now sitting on the floor playing with the dogs. Abigail has left the room to give them some privacy—she’s gotten good at reading him too, nearly as well as Hannibal can.
Will nods and bends down to kiss his husband gently on the lips.
“Love you,” Will whispers.
“And I you,” Hannibal whispers. He pulls his car keys from his pocket and hands them to Will. Likely for the best, Will decides as he takes them. His own car still needs to be cleaned out after their last kill before he can safely drive it.
Will tries not to think too hard on the way to the cemetery where Beverly is buried. He focuses on his driving and tries to keep his emotions from distracting him, but it’s hard. It’s been a while since he’s been able to do this—months of feelings have been building up, bottled inside him because his family has to come first—and he should have done it sooner, before it could get this bad. He has so much to say.
As he stands in front of her grave, he allows the tears to fall. Even if he feels like he has no right.
“I’m sorry,” he sobs.
He kneels down and sets one hand on the top of the grave stone, laying flowers down in front of it with the other. He pretends Beverly is standing just behind him, consoling him in a way she so often did when she was alive. She was always there for him in the short amount of time they knew each other. Even on the night she died, she had been there with him because he didn’t want to be alone. And he sent her to her death because of the things he let slip that night.
“I don’t know if you’ve forgiven me, wherever you are,” Will says. “But I hope that you’ve seen my attempts at making it up to you… Nothing can bring you back, I know that.” He smiles weakly at her name, imagining she’s kneeling there with him. “I think of you every day. Every time I look at those kids, and every time I see Zeller and Price, and every time I drive past an Applebees, or eat shitty pizza on my couch. I think about all of the good times. I just wish there could have been more.”
He turns around and sits down, drawing his knees up to his chest. He leans back against the gravestone and lets out a shaky breath.
“You’d be so proud of Mischa and Lucy,” he whispers. “Both of them are so, so smart, and so kind. Hannibal is the best father in the world, I promise. He teaches them good manners because one of us has to, and we all know it wouldn’t be me.”
He laughs quietly, thinking of just the other day when he slipped in the kitchen and swore loudly in front of the kids. They repeated the word for hours until Hannibal got home, and it certainly didn’t help that Will laughed every time they did. Hannibal got that sorted in no time, threatening them with taking away their harpsichord lesson for the week. Because of course Hannibal raised children where that would be a punishment.
“They both know four languages,” Will goes on to say. “No thanks to me, really. Hannibal likes talking with them in the two I don’t understand much of. I think they tell secrets about me in Italian and Lithuanian. I’ve been picking up on some words. I know I hear both kids say ‘daddy,’ in whichever language they’re using, which means they’re talking about me. Hannibal claims his lips are sealed every time I ask what they’re saying. I’ve been trying to learn more, but sometimes I just feel like I should let them have that.”
He wipes the tears away from his face, and smiles weakly at an elderly man who passes him with his own bouquet of flowers. Will can immediately see in his eyes that he’s visiting a deceased spouse, though the pain isn’t recent.
Will watches him walk down a few more rows, definitely out of earshot. The man kneels down slowly, and unevenly, laying the flowers on what Will assumes to be his wife’s grave.
When Will knows he won’t be heard, he starts talking to Beverly again.
“I know he killed you, but I hope you can at least understand. He was all I had left when you died, and you know how we were. I thought about leaving him, but you know why I couldn’t,” Will whispers. “I hope you can forgive me for not being angry with him anymore. I’m just tired, Bev. I’m tired of fighting him, and I’m tired of fighting myself. I know you would be disappointed knowing the path I’ve followed him down, but that’s who I am. It was when you were alive, too. I’m still the same Will you knew, it’s just that I’m not hiding anymore.”
His phone buzzes in his pocket while he takes a few breaths, and he pulls it out to check the message.
Hannibal: Text me if/when you’re coming home. If you need anything, please tell me.
Will considers the message before sliding his phone back into his pocket without answering it. Just a few more minutes.
“Hannibal loved you,” Will says to Beverly. “It’s unfortunate how things turned out, really, but he cared about you because you were my friend, and it did tear him apart to do what he did. It doesn’t make it okay, but it’s the truth, and that means something to me. I hope you can hear me, wherever you are. I hope you can look down on us and see how bright the kids are. They teach me so much every single day and they aren’t even in school yet. They’re going to grow up to do great things, Bev. They’re so, so loved, and I know it’ll never completely make up for you being killed, but I hope there’s some solace to be found in it, regardless.”
He stands up and brushes off his clothes.
“I’ll bring them soon. I’ll take them to see their biological mom’s grave, too. Hannibal and I have been open and honest about where they’ve come from, and why they’re with us now. Maybe, not completely honest, but there are some things that need to stay secret,” Will tells her. “I love you, you know. I miss you more than anything, too.”
He sets his hand on the gravestone, saying a quick goodbye.
When he gets into the car, he texts Hannibal back.
Will: coming home now. just need you, and a hot bath. maybe we could meet in wolf trap and spend the night there instead. we deserve a date night.
Hannibal: I have the perfect victim in mind. See you soon.
Will smiles, sliding his phone back into his pocket.