Palatial Intimacy

XVI - The Two of Us

April 22, 2030
Baltimore, MD

Every single emotion came rushing back to him: every interaction they'd shared, the brushes of skin on skin that built up static electricity so strong they'd eventually become lightning. They were unpredictable together, ruthless. They had so much potential. But both of them had made grace mistakes, and their relationship had vanished as quickly as a summer storm.

"Oh, God. Oh, my God. Fuck. Fuck, fuck..." Will doubled over, resting his elbows on his knees and staring closely at the hall carpet. His breathing quickened, and his head couldn't handle the pressure of all those memories flooding back at once. He began to cry, massive racking sobs emitting from deep within his chest.

"Oh, Will. You're going to be okay. You're safe." Hannibal rubbed his back. Will simultaneously wanted to pull away and to bury himself in Hannibal's arms. "What happened to you?"

"I don't know. Fuck it. Fuck!" He let out a loud scream, which echoed through the entire hallway. It was cathartic to do something like that, even if it was only in this mindscape. "I think I did something terrible."

"Calm down, Will. Please talk to me."

"I can't— I can't do this. I need to get out of here. I need to go home." Everything was crashing down. There was a reason he'd gone through such lengths to forget; all the pain from five years ago that he'd spent all this time avoiding was now plunging into his heart and brain. His body shook with the pressure. "I need to leave. Let me out of here, Hannibal. Please."

"You're free to go whenever you wish. You've never been trapped here." Hannibal kept his voice low and gentle. "But I don't think you're fit to go home in this state. You can't face your family like this."

Hannibal was right. He couldn't go home. "I lost eight months of my fucking life. I spent five years walking around with that massive gap in my memory, and I never knew why. I never searched for the answer, because I was scared." Will grimaced, body straining against the effort of his cries. He could hardly speak. "Oh, my God...I thought I'd gone crazy. I thought I had a breakdown. But I did it all to myself."

"Please calm down, Will. It's going to be okay." Hannibal massaged his shoulder and the back of his neck, leaning close. "Breathe. Keep in touch with your senses, remember? It's raining again."

Will tried to focus on taking full breaths, but his lungs kept wanting to give out on him. He looked down at the carpet, honing in on all the details of the pattern and materials. He was clutching his head, and his curls poked out from between his fingers. He felt the scratch of his hair on fragile skin. Hannibal's hand was on him, touching him with care, and he could hear Hannibal's breathing along with the faint pattering of rain. The palace was the only protector from the storm. It held precious memories and emotions, and now it was holding them both safely in its clutches. They didn't have to feel anything they didn't want to. It was so easy to wipe away the negative energy and focus only on the ethereal haze that drifted over the entire place.

"What did you do, Will? What happened to your memory?" Hannibal asked when Will's breathing became more stable.

Will looked up at him. "Did you do something? Are you tricking me right now?"

"What? No. No, Will, that's not what's happening." Hannibal's voice was firm enough that it made Will reconsider. After all, he had just seen everything flash before his eyes. He had seen himself holding that device, felt warm tears running down his face, heard the rumbling of the train down to Naples. "I don't know what happened, but it wasn't that. I promise. You know how much I regret--"

"Stop. Just stop." Will held up his hand. "You're right. I don't think it could have been you. I...do you remember the Proto-MED? One of the things in Pazzi's office?"