On the Mend (Hannibal Fanfiction)

Piece IV

Will never thought he would find himself at the store on a Saturday morning looking for the right tools to glue a fancy-ass teacup back together, but here he was. The situation was comical in its bizarreness.

He'd decided against going the traditional route for a myriad of reasons, one of which being how long it would take, and another being that it took a lot of skill to do properly. He didn't want to return the teacup to Hannibal a mess. Capturing the spirit of kintsugi was the most important part. The basics seemed simple enough: mix epoxy glue with gold mica powder, apply the mix to where the pieces had broken apart, and press them together until the glue set.

It was not as simple as it sounded.

First of all, the glue reeked. The smell was so strong that Will cracked the window open even though it was freezing cold outside just to get some clean air. Finding a good ratio of glue to golden powder was a balancing act, and the glue dried so fast that if he stopped stirring for too long, it would start to harden. The glue was also insanely sticky. He learned quickly to keep it away from everything except for the desired piece of porcelain, because once the glue was on something, it was very hard to get it off.

Thankfully, Will wasn't too shabby at doing things with his hands. He fixed motors and made fishing lures on a semi-regular basis, both of which required concentration, precision, and fine motor skills, so once he figured out what he was supposed to be doing, the going smoothed out.

Out of the seven pieces, one was at least twice as big as the rest. It included the bottom of the teacup and the handle, both of which had stayed together, and around a quarter of the bowl part of the cup. There were also five pieces that were middling in size, and then one piece that was much smaller than the others. He started with the biggest piece and worked his way around until the whole cup was put back together. It looked a little messy, but at least it was done. He'd fix it up by scraping off the excess glue after letting it dry overnight.

The rest of his Saturday was uneventful. He took the dogs for a long walk through the woods and worked on fixing the patching on the window by his bed that Tier had crashed through. He'd been meaning to fix it himself instead of calling a repairman, but he hadn't gotten around to it yet. Will wondered idly if he ever would. In the evening, he made boxed mac n' cheese and poured himself a glass of whiskey. He was nursing that glass, eyes on the drying teacup on his desk, when his phone buzzed. It was a text from Hannibal:

Would you give me the pleasure of accompanying me for dinner at my place on Tuesday evening?

Will sipped his whiskey as he pondered how to respond. Before everything had gone to shit, he used to turn down Hannibal's dinner invitations, mostly out of social awkwardness. Now, part of his lure was to accept them often enough to show interest, but turn them down often enough for Hannibal to crave his company. Will looked at the teacup again. He texted:

Is this a private dinner?

Hannibal's reply came within a few seconds. Just you, me, and Alana.

Will frowned. He thought about turning him down and making it clear to Hannibal just how much he disapproved of his relationship with Alana, but something about that felt unsatisfactory. Almost like letting Hannibal win. He pictured how it would go if he went, instead. He could give Hannibal the teacup after dinner, almost a tease, a hint of what could be, and then leave him with Alana. Make Hannibal think about exactly what he was missing by playing this game. It was an intriguing idea.

What time?

This time, Hannibal's reply was instantaneous. 7 o'clock.

Will downed the rest of his whiskey and typed, I'll be there. He watched the cursor blink a few times before he hit send. There was no going back now.

Hannibal's reply was equally quick. Sounds good. I shall see you at 7, Will.

Will could hear Hannibal's voice in his mind as he read it, as clear as if he had been in the same room with him. And if he stared at their text conversation long after he should've been asleep, turning over everything in his mind, well...that was between him and nobody else.