Hannigram -- Cuts Unscene

S1 E13: Savoureux

Companion Song: "Heart Heart Head" – Meg Meyers

You're in my heart

In my heart, in my head

You're in my heart

In my heart, in my head

Pressure on my lips

I'd die for just one kiss

Wait, God, can't resist

Could I be dreaming this?

Season 1 Episode 13: Savoureux

At the end of Episode 12, Will realizes he's returned to Virginia without Abigail, having lost time as a result of having an "episode" at the Hobbs cabin. Somehow, in his fugue state, slipping in and out of reality, he makes it back to his house and goes to bed. This scene happens that night, and is woven in with Will's dream about pursuing the stag through the woods and shooting at an anthropomorphic version of it that resembles Hannibal. He wounds it, and follows its blood trail.

The light wormed its way beneath Will's eyelids. Raising a hand to his face, he rolled over in bed with a soft moan. He was soaked in sweat and his head throbbed, his vision intermittently doubling, scrolling upward like a VCR with bad tracking. He sat up slowly, blinking, eyes catching sight of a backlit shadow seated at his desk. It was a human figure, sitting in his chair, peering through the magnifying glass attached to the brass stand, winding string around a fishing lure.

Will's eyes wouldn't focus. The headache asphyxiated his senses. Somewhere, he heard the dogs moving, every now and then emitting a melancholy whine. He didn't need his eyes, however, to know that Hannibal was in the room. He knew that cologne anywhere.

Will scrubbed at his brow and let out a muted groan of anguish. Hannibal turned in his seat and glanced at him, then looked back at his work. To Will's surprise, Hannibal wasn't wearing his usual suit, or even an oxford, instead dressed in a simple tight-fitting black sweater and durable-looking black pants with a pair of outdoorsy boots. It was such a departure from his usual attire that Will was half-convinced this was some kind of hallucination.

Putting the finishing touches on the fishing fly, Hannibal switched off the light, for which Will was extraordinarily grateful. He sat down on the edge of Will's bed. Will reached for him instinctively and Hannibal pulled him into an embrace. "Will," he said softly, a lilt of sadness in his voice. Will relaxed against his body and leaned into Hannibal's hand as he passed it across Will's damp brow.

"What– what time is it?"

"It's late," Hannibal said.

Will felt panic rise like bile against the back of his throat, searing and bitter. "It's happening again," he whispered hoarsely against Hannibal's shoulder. "It's happening again and I can't– I can't think– I'm seeing things..."

"What's the last thing you remember?" Hannibal cupped the back of his head, twining his fingers gently into Will's sweaty hair.

"I-I was at th-the airport," Will stuttered as Hannibal pulled back gently to kiss his forehead. "And I lost Abigail – I-I took her to the cabin and I lost her, and then I was on the plane, and now I'm here and I don't – I don't remember, I don't r-remember–"

"Will." Hannibal's utterance of his name was calming, grounded, stabilizing. "You're clutching for balance. You know what to do to find it again."

He did.