The Palace Crumbles

Memory

Both of us are silent for a moment, staring at the product of my monstrous act. I can't bring myself to care, can't bring myself to realize how much of a savage I am. I'm only relieved. It's a weight off my shoulders. It's the release of something that had been pent up for a long, long time.

"Get the wallet," I tell you. You do, and I get back up on my feet. I am nothing. I am simultaneously numb and exhilarated. "How much? Please tell me this was worth it, Will."

I hear the snap of the button as the wallet pops open. You count, and it feels like it takes years. "A hundred bucks."

It should be frustrating, to go through all of that risk and effort and virtually nothing, but I'm not fazed. It's better than no money. It's a good chunk of what we need. Every little bit counts.

I look down. The man is staring vacantly at the night sky. His neck is bent at an ugly, unnatural angle, and yet I am calmer than I've ever been. It's like this is all I needed. This was the key.

"Let's go." You're tugging at my arm, and for the first time I hear fear in your voice. "We need to go, Hannibal."

I follow along, and the two of us dart across the street with our heads down. The crowds are still mainly congregated around the bars and clubs, and no one seems to be paying much attention to us. We grip each other's hands and run as fast as we can, ignoring how suspicious it may look. We've done something much worse already- or I have. I just set us on a terrible trajectory.

The night is chilly, and even with the mask the wind bites my cheeks as we run. The world is punishing me. My already injured torso throbs, overworked. I'm alive.

Just before we reach the motel, we take off our masks and the top layer of clothes. Neither of us are wearing black under the jackets, so our outfits don't seem too out of place now. We wordlessly glance at each other, ready to carry through with the plan we'd concocted before.

We enter the motel laughing over some fake scenario, out of breath for a much more innocent reason than running from a murder scene. You smile over at the person at the desk, and they return it. We always know when to turn on the charm.

Your hands shake as you slide in the key to our room. When the door opens, the room is pitch black, and you rush to turn on a light. The dark is too uncomfortable for either of us. I swing the "do not disturb" sign onto the doorknob and lock the door behind us, breathing unsteadily.

We begin to change without speaking. We throw the black clothes into a heap on the floor, ready to burn them if need be. As I slip off my shirt, my side pinches with pain, and I look down to see that I'm bleeding through my gauze. Luckily, it looks like it just started. Seeing it hits me with a sense of relief that I did things the way I did- I left no blood behind. That would have been a massive problem.

"Oh," you say when you see it. "Here, we need to fix that up. Come on."

I sit on the lid of the toilet, and you kneel in front of me with the first aid kit. We've done this before, but I feel like you are even more gentle this time. You know that I am extra wound up right now, and you're trying to offset it; either that, or you have even more respect for me now that I've taken a life.

"It's looking a little bit better," you murmur. "It just bleeds a lot when you put in a lot of effort. Maybe we need to calm down the next few days."

"I think we need to lay low after this," I agree. "We can't put any more eyes on us."

"How did it feel?" You wrap the gauze around me, and your hand brushes my warm skin. "I mean, this might as well be your first time killing."

I lean my head back. "Like Prometheus," I say. It's the first thing that comes to mind. "Every day, he woke on the side of a mountain, dreading the return of the wretched bird that would inevitably devour his liver. The next morning, he'd wake up and do it all over again." My eyes close. "I am Prometheus at dawn. I have relief from the pain, but I dread what's coming next."

You don't answer. You consider my words for a long time, and then you wordlessly stand up and leave the bathroom, setting the gauze down on the counter. I remain seated, unsure what to do.

When I finally emerge from the bathroom, you're already in bed with the light turned off. I fumble my way through the darkness and under the covers with you, and you don't move to embrace me. We simply lay across from each other. I can't tell if you're awake and doing this to spite me or if you're just asleep.

It's then that it hits me. Everything that I've done, what I'm doing to you, what I've always been doing to you, the chain of events that I've just set off all for a measly few dollars, the actions that made the situation this way in the first place- it all comes crashing down on me. I am heavy. I have been holding the world on my shoulders; I have been carrying all of the knowledge in the universe inside of my mind, my palace, and I am tired. I am so, so tired.

I thought everything was going to be okay.

"Hannibal," you utter softly to me. I can make out the vague outline of your face in the dark. "I think you and I both know what's going on here."

You reach out to touch my face. Your palm cradles my cheek, and it is the most gentle anyone has been to me in years. It's everything I needed. It's devastating. "It took me some time, but I get it now. You've given me too many signs."

"I don't know what you mean."

"This is your chance, Hannibal," you say. "If you tell me the truth now, I won't be mad. Promise."

I pause. "Do you love me, Will?"

"Yes. Yes, of course I love you. We wouldn't be here if I didn't."

That is what breaks me. "Don't lie to me." Tears brim in my eyes. I cannot be strong anymore. "Please don't say that when you don't mean it."

"What makes you think I don't mean it?"

"You know what you did," I snap, forgoing all pretenses. There is no point anymore.

You reach for me, wiping a tear from my cheek that I didn't know was there. "Yes," you say, "I do know. And if you do, as well...then there's an inconsistency in your story. And I want the truth."

"You're going to require me to say it?"

"Yes. Please."

I blink. There is no going back after this. I will have to live with what I've done, and we will have to live with the daunting challenge of each other.

I never lost my memory," I manage to say. "I've remembered everything this whole time."