Entry tags:
[ week six ➝ hannibal ]
[ Will dies by Percy's sword and there is nothing more fitting when it comes to his entire experience here. There is nothing else Will could have wanted more than that.
But then he wakes in a room on a train, jerking upwards and scrambling back to grab the sheets on top of him. He is -- he is clean. He is blood free and his hair is shorter and his beard is lighter. He is in a white shirt and black slacks and his heart is pounding because he smells the ocean again.
Then, the memories come flooding back and he feels himself choke, a hand moving up to cover his mouth as his eyes dart around wildly and his knees slowly pull to his chest. Hannibal, he thinks, must be out there but all he can do is listen to the screaming static in his brain as his eyes cloud over and overflow with heavy tears. He moves his arms to curl around his legs and his fingers dig into his own knees through the fabric and oh -- oh, he begins to sob.
It's been so long since he cried, he nearly forgot what a relief it was to do so. ]
But then he wakes in a room on a train, jerking upwards and scrambling back to grab the sheets on top of him. He is -- he is clean. He is blood free and his hair is shorter and his beard is lighter. He is in a white shirt and black slacks and his heart is pounding because he smells the ocean again.
Then, the memories come flooding back and he feels himself choke, a hand moving up to cover his mouth as his eyes dart around wildly and his knees slowly pull to his chest. Hannibal, he thinks, must be out there but all he can do is listen to the screaming static in his brain as his eyes cloud over and overflow with heavy tears. He moves his arms to curl around his legs and his fingers dig into his own knees through the fabric and oh -- oh, he begins to sob.
It's been so long since he cried, he nearly forgot what a relief it was to do so. ]

ok calm down gone girl
Unlike in town, where the ability to feel hung in the air to a point where Will could barely breathe with it -- here it's settled, back to normal. He sees the emotion on Hannibal's face rather than feels it, has to reach out a bit more to feel it himself and the warmth soothes him, makes him feel pleasant all over. As Hannibal cups his face, Will lifts his own hands to curl around his wrists, tilts his face to press a kiss to his palm. It's almost too easy to express the affection he has, almost absurd how he can just relieve it through soft kisses and light touches.
Once again, Chiyoh's voice rings out in his head. There are other means of influence than violence. He feels the urge to thank her for this every day and he is sure that when the return to the land of the living, he will have that choice. She is truly Cerberus in how she waits at the gates for Hannibal to return.
He isn't sure what to say in response, isn't sure what type of response would match Hannibal's declaration as much as he wants to. All he can think is -- of course, of course he would because the need for Hannibal is always going to be lurking in his subconscious. He knew it, even if he didn't want to acknowledge it, when he accepted Jack's offer to chase after the Dragon.
So, he says nothing and instead sinks into Hannibal's kiss. He feels the love down to his marrow and slides his hands away from Hannibal's wrists to clutch at his shoulders as he kisses. And kisses. And kisses. And keeps kissing. Of course, the kisses will grow more amorous as they go and there's no want in Will to stop it -- to put a pause on them -- because well, they're dead, aren't they? There's no pressure to do anything else here than indulge and after all of this, indulging in Hannibal seems like a good enough reward to him. ]