The Becoming of Will Graham

The Fall

     "This is all I ever wanted for you, Will. For both of us." Hannibal's voice was soft, reasoning, as it always was.  Will slowly pulled the other close to him in a bloody embrace, unable to tell who's blood was where anymore as he wiped all thoughts of Dolarhyde, the Great Red Dragon, laying dead and defeated on the ground behind them.
     "It's beautiful," Will answered, pressing his face into the crook of Hannibal's neck, gripping his shoulder tightly. There was no way out, he now knew the answer to Bedelia's question. Of course he did, he hungered for Hannibal Lecter in a way that could be sated at the very sight of him, there was no denying it now. One small move of his foot and the both of them were falling over the edge of the cliff towards the water, clinging tightly to one another.
     It's a common thought that when one is about to die their life flashes before their eyes. As Will was discovering now, that was only half true. It didn't start with his childhood, it started with Hannibal. The two of them, sitting in Jack Crawford's office. Every moment Will had shared with Hannibal passed through his mind and the seconds it took for them to fall down, down, down into the Atlantic seemed like years instead. Abigail, Hannibal's office, Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane, Florence. It all flooded his mind like some sort of sick swan song, marred by blood, gore, passion, and betrayal.
     Right before the end, both Hannibal and Will took a simultaneous deep breath, their chests pressed closer  than Will originally thought possible. Then the water hit, it was icy for a moment, and then nothing. Numbness and those visions were the only things Will had in the water. The sweet embrace of death certainly wasn't what he'd expected it to be, was this really it? A purgatory of Hannibal running through his mind like a reel of film? He opened his eyes and saw nothing but red clouds, feeling a slight tugging on his sides, but he couldn't quite make it out. He felt suspended, so maybe they were his wings, perhaps there was more to death after all.
     Hannibal broke the surface and gasped for air, grabbing Will's sides and dragging him through the water on his back to the nearest shore. They made it, Will was more clever than the doctor had originally given him credit for, of course he was. His Will was always full of surprises. All the FBI would see would be the double set of bloody footprints on the edge, it was foolproof. He got will to shore and gently patted his cheek to wake him from his stupor.
     The pressure on Will's chest tightened and he felt needles in his cheek, a muffled noise finally making it to his ears. Not everything was red anymore, though there was still a lot of that too, but now there was black, and gray, and some shadowy movement.
     "I've got you, come back to me," It was a familiar voice that Will felt like he needed to answer to, blinking and only able to get out a cough at first. Slowly but surely, he realized his head was in Hannibal's lap and he was looking up at him.
     "I'm-" he coughed, "not dead?" His head was pounding, his face was burning, and so was his shoulder, those were his anchors to life currently.
     "You're not. Not physically, at least. To everyone else you will be," Hannibal explained. "We won't exist anymore."
     Will let that idea sink in and gave a small nod, giving Hannibal an amused smile and reaching up to gently touch his face.
     "Good, I was tired of existing anyway," he brought his hand back down and laid it at his side. "We need to get out of the country, and no, we can't go back to Italy."
     "I wasn't going to suggest Italy, I've had my run there." Hannibal let his arm rest along Will's beside him. "I was thinking my family's castle, in Lithuania. Chiyoh will have gone back there, she will cover for us." 
     Will gave another slight nod and closed his eyes for a moment. "Until then, we'll need shelter for the night. The salt water will jump start healing our wounds, we'll need to hide out in the day and move quickly at night."
     "I know, Will. I've been at this a long time," Hannibal got to his feet and helped Will do the same. "There's a little cave-like crevice at the wall of the cliff, we'll stay there tonight and try to stay very still to lose as little blood as possible," he reached down and brushed his fingers against Will's own, only taking his hand when Will's fingers flexed in invitation. 
     Once they started walking, Will looked over to Hannibal a moment, not stuttering in his steps. 
     "So, really, this is all you ever wanted for us? Sharing a kill, the adrenaline, the satisfaction, the high?"
     "Yes. Maybe with less injuries to you and I, but yes.  I love you, I am in love with you, and I wanted to have this with you. This is how we were meant to be, this is our design."
     "That's my line," Will coughed a little through one of his manic grins as they neared their overnight home.
     "I know, but it fits so well, don't you think?"
     Will only nodded, lowering himself to the ground and leaning against Hannibal when he did the same, the warmth of his body more of a comfort than he ever could have wished for in that moment. The reality of the situation had no beauty in it at all, they'd killed someone, nearly died themselves, and they were sleeping on the ground tonight, all of their connections thinking them dead. Will found something poetic in it, nonetheless, and he knew Hannibal did as well.