The Last Temptation

The Last Temptation
Chapter 6: Colorblind

Story By: The Adrians
Song By: Counting Crows

Started: July 9, 2007 | 7:57 am PST (Happy Birthday, TLT)
Finished: August 15, 2007 | 10:39 pm PST

Authors’ Note:

So this note is being written on the first birthday of The Last Temptation (TLT) and we’d just like to thank everyone again for their support. Special thanks to: Shadowdog85, darkangel985 (x like 4 now), EricaH, Simarillion, Mino, and Lina. We couldn’t have made it without your advice and words of encouragement. Thank you, thank you, and thank you!
Day: We begin a little later than we left off in the last chapter- probably 4 pm in day 14. We conclude somewhere in the beginning half of day 15. Enjoy!

Love and Love,

T.A.

PS: Please read and review!

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Chapter 6: Colorblind

I am colorblind
Coffee black and egg white…

Will sat in his car, holding his head for a long time, letting the day’s events float in and out of his mind’s eye. Blood, the letter, Molly, Clarice…
He told himself soundlessly that he hadn’t signed and delivered his death warrant, that he’d just made an arrangement for coffee with an old friend.
“What kind of friend stabs the other with a paper knife?”
He snorted. A better question might have been “What kind of friend lets his pet snarl in your lap?”
That’s what Clarice was, right; a lapdog with the soul of a falcon? She heeled at Crawford’s side, hunted down and retrieved the criminals he was after, until one day, while hunting she asked for help from a man and got a lick of blood instead. As much as the blood scared her, it was exciting. One taste just wasn’t enough. She ached to find a master that understood.
She found the man again and he showed her how to fly. Instead of a retriever, she was a bird of prey. But she still needed a shoulder to perch on. He was her perch.
Only now for some reason the man got tired of his little bird and went hunting for something he lost long before his Starling came along.
Will wasn’t sure who he should be more irritated with, the pet or the owner. Whatever Clarice was seeing when she let herself stare off certainly wasn’t what he’d thought it was. And he was sure Hannibal knew why.
There was something in that time the doctor and Clarice spent together that Will didn’t know about. Some event that Starling relived over and over in every idle moment. There was more than just idle emotion behind that foggy gaze. There was a film reel playing and rewinding at her whim.
Getting out of the car, Will tried not to notice how hard he slammed the door. He ignored each stomping step to his kitchen. He even tried to tell himself that chewing the sandwich so hard was because the peanut butter had gotten stiffer while he was out.
When Will started feeling scratches in the porcelain of the plate he was washing he knew it was no use trying to deny his jealousy.
After putting the plate away, he contemplated using the razor in his shower a second time.

Pull me out from inside
I am ready I am ready I am ready
I am…

Hannibal Lecter sat in his study, exquisitely comfortable in his favorite chair. He read once again the letter Will had left him.
” There’s something about the way she looked at me- like she was jealous, angry, broken hearted. Whatever you did with her when you two were together she took as a promise.”
The doctor sighed. Poor Will. So perceptive. Luck very seldom shone on his golden head.
Hannibal shut his eyes.
There had been a kiss. She was lovely, bound and crying. How could he resist?
It was only after his lips touched hers, after he felt her tears that the soft twinge of revulsion bloomed in his chest.
Like kissing Mischa…
He opened the red-brown eyes slowly.
After that moment he knew it wasn’t Clarice he’d been searching for.
The answer to his ache was sitting on an island, bathing in liquor and tears.
“I know you’re wondering how I feel about that. And to tell you the truth, I’m not sure. Frankly, I’m more concerned about whether or not I’ll be waking up tomorrow to a knife through my chest.”
Hannibal couldn’t help but picture the scene. Will’s motionless form drenched with blood from deep inside his chest, his heart pierced with a knife still in Clarice’s hand. Lecter’s eyes narrowed as he swallowed a wave of anger that threatened to have him making certain Clarice didn’t have hands to hold a knife with. Will’s heart was his, if not yet metaphorically, then literally.
He drew a slow breath and set the letter aside.
The clock on the wall across from his desk read 5:30 in the evening. It was time to get ready for the event to come.
Since he’d escaped Hannibal had let his hair grow out again. When it wasn’t tied back it fell just past his chin. After returning from the post office, he’d let it out of the small elastic band. His hair was still dark, excluding a shock of grey at the peak of his hairline. It fell along the left side of his face and Lecter found it quite charming. He wasn’t a boy anymore, after all. It would have taken more vanity than Hannibal had to consider coloring the small streak. Instead he brushed it back and tied it in with the rest.
Incarceration had done something for his taste in clothing. He didn’t much care for anything binding. The white dress shirt was only buttoned so far and the pants, still double-pleated, he wore without a belt. Hannibal hoped that when Will saw him he’d be reminded of the last evening he had seen the doctor in non-prison apparel. The outfit tonight wasn’t much different from the one he made history in.
Satisfied with his appearance, Lecter returned to his chair with a book and a glass of whiskey. It was only a matter of time and Hannibal was a very patient man.

Taffy stuck, tongue tied
Stutter-shook and uptight…

Will wasn’t exactly certain what he was supposed to wear for occasions like this. He doubted any book of manners had a protocol for when a person has coffee with an escaped serial killer, especially Hannibal Lecter. A suit was pretentious, jeans would be sloppy.
Single pleated dress pants and a thick button-up came to mind and Will had to admit it was the best idea so far- even if it was just a little reminiscent of the ensemble he’d worn the last time he’d seen Hannibal on the outside.
He shrugged as he buttoned the shirt. This was a reminiscing sort of day he supposed. Every skeleton Will had tried to bury was coming back today for a bit of fun at his expense.
The FBI, he’d expected. Hell, he might have welcomed one of their check-ups over a call from Molly.
Molly…Had he listened to one word she’d said? Thinking back on it, Will really couldn’t say he had. He picked his memory for words. She said ‘Willy’ a few times. Nothing about letters though. That was good. She wasn’t thinking about suing him anytime soon. What else? He shook his head. He hadn’t really been concentrating on conversation. Planning his responses to possible questions Clarice might ask had taken up his mind. After a while Molly had stopped talking and asked Will if he was listening. He remembered having said yes and then she went quiet. “So what are you going to do?” She asked with a sort of quiver to her voice. Will didn’t know what he was answering. “I don’t know. Can I call you tomorrow?” He’d asked in the most soothing voice he could manage. She’d said yes and hung up.
Will fastened the last button of his shirt and looked out his bedroom window at the ocean. The rain had cleared up an hour before and the clouds were rolling out. The sun was turning the horizon that tropical Florida red Will loved. It reminded him of the color of hot wine and cloves. Not quite purple, but not red enough to be bloody.
There had been an evening one autumn that Hannibal had paused their working to share some of the aromatic drink with Will.
“You’re trying to get me drunk…” Will had commented jokingly over his third mug.
“Perhaps.” Lecter had replied, winking
At that time Will hadn’t thought long on the flirtatious nature of their conversations. He shrugged it off as just the type of person Hannibal was, just the type of person Hannibal made him when they were together.
Thinking about it now, the way they’d acted must have seemed a little shameless. No wonder Molly always seemed uncomfortable when Will talked about work with Hannibal.
He smiled a little. It was probably the first time he’d smiled all day. Leave it to Lecter to make Will even more conflicted.
He looked down at his arm. It was clean and bandaged. From underneath the shirt it was nearly impossible to tell the bandage was there at all. Will wondered what the use was trying to hide it from someone who already knew. In the end he decided it was for Jeremy’s sake. He didn’t need that kind of troubling information on his head. He’d already have to stay open late two nights in a row.
Will looked to the alarm clock on his nightstand then. 7:45
Carefully, Will made his way downstairs and out his front door.

Pull me out from inside
I am ready I am ready I am ready
I am…fine…

Jeremy glanced at the clock above his counter. 7:55
It was almost closing time and Doc still hadn’t returned. Honestly Jeremy couldn’t think of a stranger day.
From the minute he woke up he could tell something was amiss. The rain was just the beginning. All day he’d been visited by the kinds of customers he only saw on the full moon, not including Doc of course. He was usually the voice of reason in all the madness the barista saw from day to day. When that voice rushed out of his shop earlier in the afternoon, Jeremy somehow felt like reason itself had swept out of his world.
He sighed. That was a bit dramatic. Jeremy bit his lip and scrubbed the counter a little harder. He didn’t look up until he felt headlights from outside the window facing the parking lot.
When he did look, he couldn’t help but smile. So Doc had come back after all.
And he was dressed rather nicely. The barista couldn’t help blushing as his eyes affixed themselves to the small expanse of chest between the leaves of the doctor’s open shirt. He tried harder to concentrate on scrubbing the counter.

“Good evening, Jeremy.” Hannibal called as he stepped inside. “I couldn’t persuade you to keep the shop open just a bit longer could I?”
Jeremy smiled brightly from behind the counter, nodding his head. Hannibal noticed the youth looked a little flushed. Lecter wondered if it was he who was responsible for the pinking in the blonde’s cheeks. He smiled most charmingly and added “That is, if I’m not keeping you from some other sort of engagement…”
Jeremy shook his head. “No. You aren’t keeping me from anything. The usual?” Hannibal barely had time to nod before the younger man disappeared behind the espresso machine. Lecter chuckled softly to himself and sat down beneath Will’s wings.
Jeremy emerged a few minutes later with the coffee, his face less flushed then before. He set it down in front of Hannibal and was about to take the seat beside him when a second pair of headlights flashed through the parking lot-side window. Jeremy squinted as he tried to identify the other customer, but it soon became obvious who it was as the blonde hair became visible from outside the car.
“It’s Will!”

7:59 read the clock above the counter as Will stepped into Jeremy’s shop. He had to force himself to hear Jeremy’s welcome. Thinking about it now, Jeremy’s shop might not have been the best idea. He’d have to convince the barista he’d never met Hannibal before. Then again, it was probably the safest way he could meet the other man. They’d have to be cordial, not talk about anything too personal, and Jeremy would be there the entire time. Will sighed inwardly and thanked his better judgment before turning himself to the younger man and greeting him in return.
“Will Graham, I’d like you to meet my friend and quite possibly my best customer, Dr. Oliver Fell.”
Jeremy stepped aside then, revealing someone entirely different. Will knew it wasn’t Oliver Fell sitting beneath the frosted wings. It was Hannibal Lecter. He was only really mildly surprised that the tension that had been palpable just a few moments before seemed to evaporate as the red-brown eyes fixed on him beneath dark lashes. Hannibal would make sure this turned out alright. He sighed again.
Will could see the aging on the other man’s part as he stood and made his way to him, one hand extended. He was graying and there was a bit more stiffness in the broad shoulders as they worked to stand up. He was tanned nicely though, the sort of bronze only a person with very pale skin gets. The sun had probably helped keep off the aging in his face. The deep wrinkles he’d seen under the fluorescent lighting in Baltimore were much smoother now. He’d lost weight, not that he’d been heavy before, but Will could tell life outside prison had been better on his body.
Will took the hand extended to him and shook it. He tried not to react to the gentle squeeze at the end. All of this seemed terribly familiar.
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Mr. Graham.” He’d have to commend Hannibal for his acting ability, or maybe Jeremy for his aloof nature because Will knew he wasn’t doing anything to make this look unplanned.
“Just Will, please.” He said, smiling. “Nice to meet you too.”
Jeremy ushered them to the table underneath the frosted wings. Both Will and Hannibal looked up at them appreciatively before sitting down.
“Well, this is certainly a fine way to end a real strange day.” The barista said cheerfully.
“It’s been odd for you too?” Will didn’t honestly think it could compare to his day, but conversation was conversation.
“Wow, yeah. First the rain, then some honestly loopy customers, and later my steamer broke.”
Will wondered idly if any of those customers had been Clarice Starling.
“The kind that only come on the full moon, eh?” Hannibal asked with a chuckle.
Jeremy nodded. “Yeah. One of them was a woman who looked like she worked for the Feds. She drove off towards the coast. She wasn’t here to see you was she?”
Well, that was one way to start the conversation.
Will nodded. “Yeah, she was actually.”
The doctor leaned forward a little in his chair.
“She was sent to get a final statement from me on my refusal of protective custody.”
“And why ever would you need to be in protective custody, Will?” The doctor asked casually.
Will felt a chill run down his spine.
“They think I’m…What’s the word, unstable, since Molly and I divorced.”
Jeremy frowned a little.
Hannibal arched an eyebrow. “So they want to protect you from yourself?”
Will nodded, shifting his arm a little. “Something like that.”
“Well I’m sorry if that woman was a friend of yours, Will, but she was pretty strange.”
Will shook his head. “Not at all, Jeremy. I don’t actually know her, but I agree. There does seem to be something under her skin that we aren’t seeing.” He glanced at Hannibal who for his part kept a neutral expression. Will wondered how long he could get away with making comments about Hannibal’s pet.
Jeremy didn’t give him the opportunity. He asked Will if he wanted something to drink. It was a coffee shop after all. Will nodded and Jeremy rushed back behind the counter to fix up another cup of coffee.

Hannibal gazed at Will with a gentle expression. Will looked away, down at the floor like he’d been dying to for the last few minutes. The doctor was just about to despair at the time alone they were wasting when he heard Will’s voice, low and quiet.
“Your place or mine?”
Hannibal smiled. “Yours. Clarice is staying at the hotel I rent my flat from.”
“Alright.”
Then Will looked at him with the most soulful expression he’d ever seen. There was fear and sadness, yes, but warmth and curiosity were there too, and if he looked hard enough a tiny spark of hope and something else…something Hannibal didn’t think he should act on just yet. He wanted to pull Will to his chest, to hold him, to assure him, but all of that would have to wait. He sighed inwardly, and looked to Jeremy as he returned with a cup of coffee for Will.
All too soon the beautiful expression faded, replaced with the personable one Will had worn before. Hannibal felt a pang in his chest but returned, as the ex investigator had, to the friendly demeanor of a minute previous.

I am covered in skin
No one gets to come in…

Ten o’clock rolled around and the three men parted ways, promising more evenings if Will could put in a few mornings.
The ex investigator had laughingly promised he’d try and drove off in the direction of the coast.
He was alone on the road for the first few minutes, but soon another car turned onto the road behind him. Will knew it was Hannibal.
He drove calmly home and parked a little farther into his driveway than normal to accommodate the black Bentley. Will waited for the doctor to park and exit his car before he started towards the front door. It was unlocked.
He didn’t wait at the door, but stood inside, ready to lead the doctor into the sitting room.

The coast was much darker at night than town was. It was with some effort that Lecter found in his glove box the surgical floss and needle. He tucked them gingerly into his pocket and left his car to follow Will up the dark driveway.
Hannibal was familiar enough with the layout of Will’s house. He’d checked the public records and made a few calls until he found the architect. It was only a matter of ordering a set of prints after that. The public archives made it laughably easy to stalk someone.
Seeing as how it would have been rude to make his own way through another man’s home, regardless of how familiar he was with it, Hannibal allowed Will to lead him out of the foyer and down the hall to the kitchen. The large, mostly open room that served as both kitchen and sitting room was dimly lit by a touch lamp on a table next to the couch closest to the wall. Four other lamps were mounted high on the wall and covered in metal shades like old office lamps. They were off. Will stood more rigidly than Hannibal would have liked, but he knew that talking with Jeremy present was different than talking alone.
“Would you like something to drink?” Will’s voice had hardened again. It was that emotionless tone that the doctor knew was forced. Left alone for ten minutes and Will rebuilt the walls.
“Yes, please.” He replied.
Liquor always made the ex investigator relax.


Will walked around the counter into his kitchen, turned the light dial up just a bit, and opened the liquor cabinet. There was still some rather expensive single-malt whiskey in the thick, oval shaped bottle it had come in.
“Is whiskey alright? I promise it isn’t Jim Beam.”
Hannibal chuckled. “I trust you have better taste than that, Will. Whiskey’s fine.”
Will smiled a little as he poured the goldish liquid into two small octagonal glasses.
When he returned Hannibal was seated comfortably on the couch underneath the four mounted lamps. He handed the doctor a glass, set the bottle on the coffee table between them, and sat on an adjacent chair.
“You kept the letters on that rack on your counter?”
Will nodded. “Yes. I knew I should have kept them upstairs.”
“Tell me what happened. Start with when you woke up.”
Will took a sip of whiskey and let his head fall against the soft back of his chair.
“I woke up at about 11. Late for me, but I’m sure you already know.” He watched Hannibal’s lip curl into a small smile.
“I got out of bed and took a shower. I was covered in bl-“ Will stopped himself abruptly.
The doctor arched an eyebrow. “Blood? You reopened your arm while you were sleeping.”
Will took a bigger sip of his whiskey and continued. “After the shower I took the sheets to the laundry room. It was lunch time, so I put some bread in the toaster-“
“Peanut butter sandwich?” Lecter asked innocently, both eyebrows raised this time.
Will bit his lip. “Yes. I went out to check the mail then. I ran inside, read the letter, put it with the rest. Clarice knocked. I pulled on a long-sleeved shirt.” He held up both arms.
The doctor nodded.
Will continued. “She told me she was here to collect a formal statement about my refusal of protective custody. I let her in. I gave her my statement and she asked me why I didn’t think I was in danger. I told her-“
-“Wait, Will. Tell me your formal statement.”
The ex investigator’s brow furrowed for a moment. “I think I said something like: ‘I, Will Graham, of precarious mind and body,‘“
Hannibal grinned. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a charmer?”
Will chuckled “Maybe once or twice. ’I, Will Graham, do decline the offer of protective custody from the Federal Bureau of Investigation on the grounds that I do not believe that I am in, or will come into any danger from the escaped serial killer, Dr. Hannibal Lecter.’”
The doctor nodded. “Continue.”
“She asked why I didn’t think I was in danger. I told her I knew you before your incarceration. I figured that if neither of us went out of our way to see each other, I’d stay alive and you’d stay free. She inquired after our relationship preceding January, 1980.”
-“And what did you tell her, Will?”
Will frowned. There was something about Hannibal’s tone he didn’t like. “I said we were friends.”
Hannibal nodded.
“Then the phone rang. It was Molly. I went outside to talk to her. I didn’t really pay attention to a word she said, but I think she was crying. I told her I’d call her tomorrow.”
“Tsk, tsk…How quickly one forgets love after divorce.”
Yes, there was definitely something Will didn’t like about that tone. “We might not be divorced if you hadn’t sent your pet serial killer after me,” Will barked “and now your new pet FBI agent is after me too. When I came inside, Clarice had already read the letters and was about to bolt. She looked like she’d lost her fucking soul, Hannibal! The look in her eyes was worse than anything I’d seen in a long time. She left in a hurry and sped off. I want to know why. I think it’s time you started explaining to me- for once.”

Hannibal watched the ex investigator’s temper rise, listened to the pitch of Will’s voice increase with its volume. The younger man’s body was tense. The doctor could see the man’s adams apple rise in his throat.
Will was terribly attractive when angry.
“Very well.”
The blonde arched both eyebrows and crossed his arms. ‘Bracing himself.’ Hannibal thought idly.
-“I kissed her.”
Will blinked. “You kissed her?”
“Yes. She was bound up. I kissed her. I suppose that’s the promise, I think you called it, you believe I made to her.”
Hannibal saw Will’s muscles relax, watched the younger man try to stifle a sigh.
“Did you think we’d slept together, Will?”
Will’s eyes widened and his cheeks turned red.
The doctor smiled and reached for the bottle of whiskey in front of him. He filled Will’s glass but set his own on the table with the bottle.
“Let’s do something about that arm.”

“Here?” he managed weakly from behind his glass. Will wasn’t sure if he could possibly be more mortified. Hannibal was removing surgical floss from his pocket before the shock of the last few moments had even worn off. He took a long drink from his glass and reached for the bottle on the table. It was going to take more than two glasses for him not to care about a needle being shoved through his arm.
“Yes. I’ll be careful to keep the upholstery clean. Do you have a dishrag and a pair of shears I could borrow? And perhaps some rubbing alcohol.”
Will sank into the chair, his expression slightly pained. “The dishrags are under the sink and there’s a pair of shears in the pen-cup on the counter. The rubbing alcohol is in the lazy Susan. ”

Lecter nodded and padded across the hard-wood into the kitchen. There was surgical gauze mixed in with the dishrags. He’d never really thought about how handily absorbent they’d be for domestic use, but he was glad Will had them. The lazy susan was next to the sink and inside, after turning the carousel a bit, he found the rubbing alcohol. The shears were in the cup as Will said. He grabbed them and walked back into the sitting room.
“Did you know, Will, that all the pens in your cup advertise antipsychotic medications?” He asked as the man knocked back another glass of whiskey. Will nodded. “Yeah. After you’re admitted to a psych ward of any kind you get those mailed to you along with promotional brochures.” Both men laughed.
“Why antipsychotics only, do you think?”

Pull me out from inside
I am folded and unfolded and unfolding
I am…

Will shrugged. Hannibal had found the surgical gauze. He supposed it was just as well. His upholstery wouldn’t get damaged now.
“The doctors at Bethesda were always trying to diagnose me with something. They couldn’t nail me with schizophrenia so bipolar disorder had to do.”
Hannibal’s brow furrowed deeply as he knelt next to Will’s chair. “You aren’t serious.”
Will shook his head. “No, I’m perfectly serious. They gave me just about everything you can imagine.”
Lecter spread two of the gauzes over his lap and folded the third and fourth neatly before setting them on the coffee table. “That’s just like a psych ward. If they can’t find what’s wrong, they kill you instead.” He uncapped the rubbing alcohol and poured a bit onto one of the gauzes before rubbing the needle with it. The needle was placed on the dry gauze.
“Did you ever take a thematic apperception test, Will?”
Will nodded absently. Just watching the way the light reflected off the needle’s shiny surface was making him nervous. He filled his glass again.
“I took just about everything there is to take. Rorschach, TAT, MMPI, CPI, 16PF.”
And what an ordeal that was. Will didn’t much like talking about himself so completing countless amounts of self inventories was excruciating. The projective tests had been interesting, but doctors’ interpretations were always terribly pretentious.
“You know that more than half of the CPI is stolen from the MMPI. What were the conclusions?” Hannibal reached for Will’s left arm, but stopped just before he touched the sleeve. He looked up at the other man.
Will nodded. The whiskey must have been working. “You must know. Bloom called you as a last resort for me, didn’t he? They must have given you the results.”
Lecter turned the arm over and gently undid the cuff. “Do you remember the day I came to see you at Bethesda?”
“Yes.” He shuddered. His dreams made sure he never forgot.
“And do you remember what I told you?” The doctor rolled the sleeve back over the bandaging.
The ex investigator frowned. “We talked about a lot that day.”
Hannibal nodded “Before we started talking about everything else.” He undid the fastening on the ace bandages and slowly began to unwrap.
Will closed his eyes, thinking back on it. “You said I needed a friend more than a doctor.”
“That’s correct and I meant it. I never looked at the results of those tests.” As the bandaging came unraveled and the wound was exposed, Hannibal sat back on his haunches.
“You do nothing half way, do you, Will?”
The blonde swallowed thickly. “I did this time, or I’d be dead.”
“What made you stop?” The doctor returned to his kneeling position. He cleaned around the wound with the gauze already covered in rubbing alcohol.
Will wasn’t certain how to answer. He’d just spent the last few minutes bad mouthing the psychiatrists at Bethesda Naval Hospital for prescribing him medication he didn’t need and now he was going to admit he’d hallucinated Hannibal’s voice.
The older man stood up and returned to the kitchen. Will heard the water running in the sink.
Washing his hands…
Maybe it would be easier to tell him if Will couldn’t see him.
“You made me stop.”
The water shut off. He was listening.
“I was in the shower, ready to cut the other arm when I heard you…You asked what had been done to me. I said I didn’t know. You asked if maybe I’d like to have a chat before I finished the job. I told myself you weren’t real and then you went away. After that I couldn’t do it.”
Hannibal returned from the kitchen, his expression soft, hands clean. He knelt again and pulled a small packet of white powder from one of his pockets.
“I’m glad you didn’t…”
Will felt his face flush. He didn’t know if it was drunkenness or bashfulness at that point. He cleared his throat a little, hoping it would clear his head. “What’s that?”
“Cocaine. I bought it for setting my thumb and stitching the wound on my arm. I had a bit left over and I didn’t think you’d mind.” The doctor sprinkled a bit around the edges of the wound then rubbed it in very carefully.
Will chuckled to himself at the thought of Hannibal buying cocaine from a bunch of punks in an alley. Yes, the whiskey was doing its job.
Hannibal cleaned his fingers and unpackaged the surgical floss. He threaded the needle.
Will emptied his sixth glass.
“I’ll ask you to stay very still for me please, Will.” His voice was low and soft, almost purring, only a trace of the metallic nasality it usually held.
Hannibal had barely pushed the needle through Will’s skin when the younger man’s head fell limp.
Out cold…

Colorblind
Coffee black and egg white…

Will wakes up warm and little stiff. The sun is beating down on his chest and the waves are crashing against the inside of his skull. He opens his eyes and sits up.
He’s sitting in a beach chair on a dock not much different from his own in Marathon.
The water bright and clear, rolling and splashing against the edges of the planks near his feet.
Will takes a deep breath…Ocean.
He knows he isn’t in Florida. The ocean there is clean, but not anywhere near as blue.
“Looking into that water is like looking into your eyes, Will…”
Will turns his head slowly.
Hannibal stands a few feet away, holding a trey with a pitcher, two margarita glasses, salt, and a sliced lime. He sets the trey on a small, umbrella-shaded table and takes the saucer of salt off. He dips each glass upside-down in the pitcher then places them in the salt, twisting the stem until salt sticks to the rim. The doctor fills both glasses with the margarita and sticks lime slices decoratively on one side of both.
Lecter then takes both glasses in hand and heads for Will.
Will takes the one offered to him and thanks the other man.
Hannibal sits on a beach chair snugly close to the blonde’s. It’s so close, Will wonders why he didn’t notice it before.
He licks the rim of the glass and takes a sip of the margarita. No bottled mix ever comes close to the margarita Hannibal makes. He sighs appreciatively and smiles when he feels his hand taken from the armrest and kissed with cool lips.
Will licks the rim of his glass much more slowly, letting his tongue roam over the salt. A hand behind his neck, pulling him closer tells the younger man the view is appreciated.
The taste of tequila and salt on the doctor’s lips has Will crawling out of his chair and into Hannibal’s.
Straddling Lecter’s thighs, the blonde takes another sip of his margarita before setting it on the dock. He leans in close to the older man and rests his head on one broad shoulder.
“It’s nice to get away, isn’t it, Will?”
Will nods, nosing the collar of Hannibal’s shirt aside to aid his nibbling of the other’s neck.
“Ooh, William…not in front of the children.” The doctor chuckles, sliding his hand down Will’s bare back and into the loose fitting jean shorts.
The blonde rolls his eyes and nips hard on the skin behind Hannibal’s earlobe.
At the sound of the doctor’s gasp, Will presses his forehead to Hannibal’s and waits for the red-brown eyes to open.
When they do, he sees a sly glimmer for a second before a strong hand grips him at the small of his back and another pushes his chest back in an arch. Will smirks and takes in a breath, feeling the muscles in his stomach and chest flex.
The hand that pushed is reaching for something on the dock. Will has to lift his head to identify it as a wedge of lime. That same hand ghosts over the dip beneath Will’s sternum before squeezing the fruit at the man’s throat.
The blonde shivers a bit as the cold juice dribbles down his chest. A warm tongue meets the drops before they reach the last of Will’s ribs. It moves slowly up the trails of sour liquid and stops where some has pooled in the hallow of the man’s collarbone.
Hannibal sucks the juice from the tanned body before easing Will back up for a deep kiss.
His lips are sour, but Will loves the way they sting. The strong hands are corseting his waist tightly and he loves that too.
When they part, Hannibal’s eyes are soft again, gleaming with adoration.
“And you thought no good could come from leaving it all…”
Will smiles a little, his eyes downcast.
“I thought I’d be losing everything. I didn’t realize how little that was.”
The blonde dips his head lower,
“Or that losing everything meant gaining you…”
Hannibal lifts Will’s head and kisses him again, slowly, thoroughly.
“And you’ll always have me…”

Pull me out from inside
I am ready I am ready I am ready
I am…fine…

Morning came and light spilled through the blinds onto the ex investigator’s bed. It wasn’t until the light reached his eyes that Will woke.
His eyes opened to the blinding brightness and shot a jolt of pain straight back into his frontal lobe. Will turned away from the light and struggled a little with the sheets tucked a bit tighter than normal around him. His head ached dully, but that couldn’t compare to the stretching, burning pain in his left arm. He rubbed his right hand against his eyes and cursed as the swollen, painful fingers made contact.
Will hurt all over and wasn’t very happy.
He flopped onto his stomach, arms stretched out on both sides, head flat in the pillow and tried to order his thoughts.
Where was he?
In bed.
Where had he been last night?
Downstairs, in a chair.
What had he done?
Gotten drunk and passed out.
That all sounded normal. Why the hell did his arm hurt so much?
He turned his head and looked at it blearily.
Small, neat, stitches crossed the length of his left forearm.
It all came back very fast.
Hannibal had been downstairs with him last night. They talked. They drank. The doctor decided to do something about Will’s arm.
He’d passed out before the needle even came through the other side of his skin.
Will would have laughed if he didn’t think it would hurt so badly.
Instead he sighed and pushed off the covers.
Hmm…The covers. If he’d passed out downstairs, how had he gotten upstairs?
The answer lay folded neatly on a pillow beside him.
Will picked up the note and read it.

Will,
Shower and meet me downstairs for breakfast?
-Hannibal

Will stared at the note in silent wonder. Even a decade or so older, Hannibal was strong- Strong enough to carry a man well over six feet tall up a flight of stairs and tuck him into bed.
Will knew better than to underestimate the doctor. He wondered why he even thought to question.
With a shrug, the blonde pulled himself out of bed, headed for the shower.
He didn’t see any reason not to do as the note asked.

Downstairs, Hannibal fixed breakfast for himself and Will. The hangover the younger man would have might not even stand for the sight of food. Toast, a bit of eggs, and a tall glass of milk sat waiting on the bar counter for him, while Hannibal worked on coffee and an omelet.
He knew the moment Will was downstairs.
The lingering smell of steam and citrus shampoo drifted through the kitchen like pages announcing the arrival of some exotic, tropical god. The blonde entered the room languorously, followed by an entourage of his own smells. The doctor stopped whisking the egg mixture in the bowl before him to lift his nose at Will’s scent. The heady sweetness was almost intoxicating. The blonde wore no shirt, only dark linen pants. The sun had lightened the scar on his abdomen a few shades, and his sandy blonde hair was nearing platinum here and there. Will really did look like an island god.
Hannibal continued stirring when the younger man sat down in front of his breakfast.
“Sleep well?” He asked casually.

Will nodded. He took a long drink of the milk before even looking at any of the food on his plate. The shower had helped with the headache, but he was still feeling a bit wary of solids.
-“Dream much?”
The blonde looked up from the counter at Hannibal pouring egg into the skillet. He wasn’t sure he liked the smirk the older man was wearing.
-“I only ask because of how vocal you were when I carried you upstairs last night.”
Will’s eyes dropped to the counter, his cheeks rosy.
“That must have been around the time you were licking lime juice off my chest, doctor…”
The bright blue eyes caught the falter in Hannibal’s smirk. It was Will’s turn to feel a bit haughty.
“And how did you sleep?”
The older man folded the egg around the assorted vegetables he’d poured in the center.
“Fine, thank you.” The skillet sizzled as he pressed the spatula against the omelet. “Lime juice?”
Will had to laugh at that. He suddenly felt his appetite coming back.
“Yeah, for margaritas.”
Hannibal slid the omelet off the skillet and onto his plate.
“Coffee?”
The blonde nodded. He liked that Hannibal wasn’t exactly sure if he was serious.
“Yes, please.”
The doctor removed two mugs from the cupboard and filled them with coffee.
“Cream and sugar?”
“Cream, please. There might be a few cinnamon sticks in the spice cabinet.” Will pointed to a cabinet near the fridge.
Hannibal found the sticks and stirred the coffee before placing it before the blonde.
“I made margaritas, eh?” He came around the counter and sat at the chair next to Will.
Will nodded. “Yeah. We were somewhere tropical. The water was bright blue, like-“
-“Like looking into your eyes, Will…”
The blue eyes widened. That’s exactly what it had been like, down to the slight emphasis on his name. How eerie.
“I was in a beach chair on a dock. You made margaritas and we drank them together.”
The doctor nodded, taking a sip of his own coffee.
“How exactly did that lead to me licking lime juice off your chest?”
Will chuckled. He was less embarrassed now that he’d seen Hannibal wasn’t upset.
“It might have started when I licked the salt off the rim of my glass…”
The doctor laughed. “And I was appreciative?”
-“Very.” Will said over the rim of his mug.
Hannibal acquiesced with the arch of both brows and a small nod. “Clarice left early this morning. Back to Washington, I assume.”
Will nodded. “Do you think she’ll tell Crawford you’re here?”
The doctor shook his head. “No, I don’t think she will.”
The ex investigator’s eyes narrowed. “That means if she comes back, she’ll be alone.”
Lecter looked at Will softly. “Most likely. It isn’t a good idea for either of us to be alone while her whereabouts are unknown.”
“Should I clean up a bit then?” Will smirked.
Hannibal looked amused. “We’ll change homes every few days until we know where she is and what she wants.”
“Because that isn’t obvious.” The blonde rolled his eyes.
“Don’t get fresh, William.” Lecter’s expression hardened slightly.
Will felt the heat rush to his face. He didn’t know why he suddenly felt so defensive. “You didn’t see the look in her eyes, Hannibal. It wasn’t rainbows and butterflies, that’s for sure. She wants me out of the picture because then it’s a straight path to your door.”
-“And you think that’s what I want?”
Will pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know what you want. I know that I don’t want to be some sort of hoop for your pet Starling to jump through to prove she really is as psycho as you want her to be-”
-“Will…”
The blonde looked up. The red-brown eyes were even, calm. “I left Clarice in Mason Verger’s basement under the impression she’d be more resilient. I hoped she would pick up and continue on with her life without me. I figured she’d leave the Bureau or at least Jack wouldn’t send her after me again. I was wrong and for that I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intention to have her involved in my time here.”
Will sighed. “No one can pick up and continue on after you’ve involved yourself in their life. You’re always there. Your voice, your eyes, your scent…Everything. Don’t you get it? She can’t get over you for the same reason I can’t…You made us. Only you gave her more. You kissed her. You made her a pr-”
Hannibal stopped the word from even leaving his lips.
Will’s eyes widened then fluttered shut as he was kissed softly, slowly, sweetly.
He felt hot tears drip down his cheeks, and a soul-deep shiver as Lecter’s lips kissed the tears away. Hannibal’s thumb traced Will’s lower lip as he spoke.
“And now I’ve made a promise to you. This one I intend to keep. Meet me for dinner tonight. About 5:30, hmm? The Beringer. Give me a ring once you get to the front desk. Make that call to Molly in the meantime.” Another kiss. This one for his forehead. “I’ll let myself out.”
And then he was gone.

I am…fine…

“Hello?” Molly’s voice was low, raw, like she’d been crying.
“Hi, Molly.” Will’s wasn’t much better.
“Oh, Will…Jesus. What are we going to do?” Her breath hitched hard between the last few words.
-“Why don’t you tell me everything again…Real slow, Molly.”
“Wh-why? What don’t you get?” Her voice was high, distressed.
-“Just, please…Molly, I need you to tell me everything again. I’m sorry, I just need to-”
-“O-okay…About two months ago I took Willy because he was fainting in school.”
Will nodded and coaxed her on gently.
“At first the doctors just said his blood sugar must be low. So I made sure to pack him extra snacks and things for lunch. But he kept fainting, Will…I took him in again a week ago and had some tests done. They came back yesterday…” She stopped to sob and Will tried his best to calm her.
“They came back…” He started for her.
“They came back…positive for sickle-cell anemia. And his blood type’s so rare…They say he’s beyond transfusions. He’s going to die, Will…Willy’s going to die!”
Will set the receiver down as Molly’s words made the bile rise in his stomach. He couldn’t fight his body’s need to heave its insides all over the ground around him. The blonde let himself be sick on his hardwood floor and as he gasped for breath through the tears and saliva he could hear Molly’s shaking sobs.
After a few moments he picked up the receiver again. Molly was asking him, probably for the third or fourth time if he was still there.
“Y-yeah. I’m here. God, Molly…I…”
“He wants to see you, Will.” He could imagine her sniffing back the tears, fierce brown eyes staring hard at the wall, rounded front teeth chewing at her full bottom lip.
“Do you think I could send him down…for a little while? The doctors say they aren’t sure how long he’s got, but…”
Will nodded quickly, forgetting she couldn’t see him. “Yeah. Yeah, of course. The first one you can get. Call me when you’ve got it booked.”
-“Thank you, Will…For what it’s worth, I’m sorry things had to be-”
Will sighed. “Just, get some rest, Molly…and call me when you’ve got the ticket, okay?”
She sniffled again, and he imagined she was nodding. “Yeah. Thank you.”
The line went dead. She’d hung up.
Hung up and left Will all alone in his house with thick dread hanging in every corner, in every shadow.
Alone…
Will grabbed the phone book and searched for hotels. He punched The Beringer’s number and waited for someone to pick up.
“The Beringer. This is the front desk, Cindy speaking.”
-“Could you connect me to Dr. Oliver Fell, please?” Will’s voice was flat, tired sounding.
“Certainly, sir. Just one moment.”
Ringing…ringing…ringing…
Hannibal’s voice. Musical, filled with tone, color.
“Hello?”
“H-hannibal…”
“Will? What is it?”
“Molly…She…Willy’s going to…”
“Shh…I’ll be over in a minute. Just stay calm.”
The line went dead again.
Will waited, staring blankly at the kitchen wall until he felt strong arms curl under his arms and knees and a warm voice purr in his ear.
“Tell me what happened, Will.” The voice said as the arms hoisted him from the chair.
“Willy’s going to die…”

Hannibal breathed out a gentle sigh. There was relief in it mostly. He’d thought Molly had somehow found out about the letters. Christ…
He carried Will upstairs, set him carefully in bed, and pulled the blankets tight around his chest.
-“Hannibal…She’s sending him here.”
The doctor cocked an eyebrow, sitting down beside Will.
-“I forgot about Clarice…What if…?”
Lecter shook his head, taking one of Will’s hands in his own. “Hush…I’ll make sure he stays safe.”
Will nodded and closed his eyes. He was asleep within a few minutes.
Hannibal stood up, rubbed the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger and headed downstairs.
He pulled the whiskey from the liquor cabinet and poured himself a glass.
Poor Will…
Life so seldom dealt him a fair hand.
His heart went out to the younger man.
He’d have to teach Will to play with a few spare aces tucked up his sleeve.

No use living by the rules if God is a cheater…

I am fine…