It's Not The Fall That Kills You

2016: The Ocean

"I was told that the sunrises there are the best in the whole world."

Will summons up the effort to raise his head.

"Where?" his voice is gritty; throat dry, lips cracked.

"Raivavae." Chiyoh says, striding past him up to the top end of the boat. She picks up a thin paperback from the large pile of travel books she keeps on the boat, and tosses it to Hannibal.

"I've never heard of it."

"Probably for the best." Hannibal sits down next to him, careful to avoid the still-sensitive areas across his torso as he lays a hand on Will's shoulder. "We wouldn't want anyone to cut short our...vacation, now would we?"

They have been sailing for fifteen days, and Will's mind is slowly splitting itself in two.

On one hand, he is relieved. In fact, he's never been happier. Now that he has finally accepted his feelings for Hannibal, accepted what he must be to keep him, he feels as free and vast as the ocean he has been drifting on. They are safe, they are alone.

So begins the next chapter in the life of Will Graham...

But another part of his mind - the part that misses his dogs and the ground under his feet and the taste of good food that isn't rationed - that part is terrified. Of the future, of the past, of the things he said to Hannibal on that clifftop.

Two weeks is an awfully long time to war with oneself.

"...climb the mountain, you can see the whole island- Will?"

On instinct Will sits bolt upright, a position he sustains for all of five seconds before slumping back, hit by a fresh wave of pain.

"How did you manage it, Hannibal?"

"Manage what?"

"Not dying."

He laughs, but it's true. They had both sustained heavy injuries that night. Between the fight with Dolarhyde and the sudden plunge into the icy water, Hannibal now has no less than three cracked ribs, a broken ankle, and a knife wound to the side which they didn't even notice until the adrenaline wore off. And yet here he is, a few weeks later, limping around after Chiyoh and doing what he can to help maintain the tiny boat. He tends to Will's injuries, seemingly disregarding his own. Will, on the other hand, has been pretty much out of it.
Being fatally stabbed does not get any easier the second time round.
However, each time he has slipped back into consciousness, it has been to find Hannibal sitting beside him, looking at him as if he was good and whole. Only a short while ago this would have scared him, but now it fills him with a strange calm.
Hannibal's hand had found it's way to the side of Will's head, and is gently, almost imperceptibly brushing at his hair. He closes his eyes, breathing shakily.

"Tell me about Raivaray."

"Raivavae," he corrects him sternly, and Will feels a rush of familiarity. Hannibal can teach, and Will can learn.

"Yeah, that. Where is it?"

"In French Polynesia; one of the Austral Islands, population roughly 900-"

"No, Hannibal." Will chuckles softly. "You're just talking about it. Tell me about it."

"Well-"

"My mother lived there for a year." Will looks around sharply. Has Chiyoh been listening to them the whole time?

"You didn't tell me that." Hannibal says.

"It never came up. There was a house there, on a hill above a village. I don't even know if it'a still there, but..." she trails off, resuming her silent vigil at the wheel.

"Will," Hannibal leans in close. Will's breath catches in his throat a little.

"I know we haven't had the chance to discuss what happened, yet. Please believe that right now all I want is for us- for you- to be safe. In time, we will forge our own paths. But for now we have to go somewhere they cannot find us."

Will can feel the warm breath on his face, almost taste the salt on his lips.

"Please, Will," his voice is so soft, "will you come away with me?"

Will looks over at Chiyoh. She's definitely still listening. He gives a half-smile.

"I suppose I could handle a tropical island for a while..."