Ben poco ama colui che ancora può esprimere, a parole, quanto ami

Part 1

Falling is eternal and over in a second. Hannibal spins them around to cushion Will's fall, the second after that the absolute bastard is unconscious, leaving Will to face impact alone. He holds the man close to himself as they hit the ocean and despite the initial struggle he manages to swim to the shore and pull himself and Hannibal out of the water, spluttering and stumbling until he finds a clear patch of sand and grass. He sets Hannibal down as gently as he can, the other man still quite out of it, much too unfocused and high on adrenaline. The near-death rush is hitting Will too but he still tries to check the other's injuries.

There is rustling from the woods near the shore as Chiyoh emerges, she must have been following them for a while. She takes over in an instant, a perfect deus ex machina who leads them to safety. Shelter comes in the form of a white van, dull and innocent-looking and stocked full of medical supplies.

The next few hours pass in a blur of stitches and gauze. He insists on Chiyoh tending to Hannibal first and as the man lies on the stretcher, weary and in pain and for one showing all of his age, he gets the urge to hold his hand and touch him any way he can. Will edges closer, fuelled by an unexplainable resolve. Tentatively, he brushes the back of his fingers on Hannibal's bruised palm. As much as he wants to, he doesn't linger. Not yet. For once, he feels like he has all the time in the world.

Will asks Chiyoh not to use anaesthetics on him, figuring he at least will have to be conscious, and as she starts stitching him up he does not feel pain. He is living out of his body in a vision of white and grey and red red blood. He tries to keep his eyes fixed on Hannibal, still out from the medication, lying limp and vulnerable and looking too much like a crime scene. He keeps looking at him even in spite of Chiyoh's quiet exasperation, too irrationally afraid he might disappear into thin air.

After that, Chiyoh drives them to a quaint little cabin in the woods to rest for the night and plan their escape. They figure it's best to move quickly to get out of the country, Jack hot on their trails.  

Salvation comes to them in the form of a "modest" hideout in Cuba which Hannibal purchased under a false name.  Unsurprisingly, modesty is not a popular word in Hannibal's vocabulary so the hideout turns out to be more of a mansion, even more opulent than the man's old house in Baltimore. The villa could easily accommodate a dozen guests, but it goes without saying that they share the master bedroom. It's as spacious as Hannibal's bedroom in Baltimore though considerably lighter in atmosphere; warm and welcoming with its cream walls and golden accents, silky coral bedsheets and flowy curtains.

On the first night they settle at their new home, after Chiyoh leaves them with a curt nod and the promise to flee, he lets Hannibal tend to his wounds for the first time in forever. The man's gestures show the same traitorous tenderness he's come to associate with him, the same care he felt even as Hannibal held him to his chest sinking a knife into his flesh and shattering their make believe family. 

Will tries not to dwell on the memory of Abigail's unsure gaze searching for comfort and answers in his. Tries not to focus on the place he so desperately wanted to make for the three of them, now forever missing their child.  

After a quick and mostly silent dinner, they find themselves on the porch sharing a blanket and a cup of mulled wine, stars looking down on them. A gentle breeze caresses them and Will, for the first time in what feels like forever, feels at peace.  The feeling of belonging, right there and right in that moment, hits him with such undeniable clarity. He is finally letting himself see how glorious they could be together.  

Weariness catches up on them sneakily. Warmth spreading in their bellies from the drink and making them listless. They wade their way to throughout their drowsiness, slowly getting up and into the house. 

The  much praised "modest" hideout could easily accommodate a dozen guests, but it goes without saying that they share the master bedroom. It's as spacious as Hannibal's bedroom in Baltimore though considerably lighter in atmosphere; warm and welcoming with its cream walls and golden accents, silky coral bedsheets and flowy curtains. Colourful paintings of flower beds replacing ominous samurai armours. 

Getting in these same bed feels natural, it's the sensible thing to do after being through hell together. After being each other's hell. They stay each in their side of the bed but, nevertheless, it's the best night of sleep Will has gotten in a long time. 

Turns out, when he's not busy butchering people and carrying out his convoluted schemes, Hannibal is not exactly a morning person. He still sets an alarm for 7:30am every morning and he still is bee level of industrious, making his way through pots and pans to give them an earthy and healthy breakfast but it is clear that it's just a habit he hasn't broken out of.

In the mornings, he appears muted and drowsy, one of those people who have to warm up to the day and he doesn't speak much, taking almost until breakfast is done cooking to properly wake up.

It's in these moments when Will is reminded of the other's fragility, of his concealed tenderness. Thoughts of gentle hands and ruffled hair related to this man are not novelty, but rather a leftover fantasy from a forgotten life of promised paddles. It's in these moments especially that want makes himself known low in his gut; it's a primal and feral thing, this pull to ravish and bite and maul just to tend to the wounds afterwards.

Protect the predator from anything and everything but Will himself.

He lets himself get high on this new hypothetical power he could hold over Hannibal. Everyday he lets himself think of taking that final step in their relationship, pull them both into the unknown again. He knows he will have to take that last step himself, Hannibal much too hesitant to be the one to plunge them to their full potential. 

He has a plan to make that happen.