OOM: Between the lines of dialogue

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal is standing, ramrod straight, in his now-empty cell.

He looks as if he'd been expecting Will.

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[feed_the_lost]

Will steps out of the shadows, his down-turned eyes hidden from the light. And from Hannibal.

[cook_the_rude]

"Hello, Will!"

As if they'd just run into each other on the sidewalk of some European city.

"I'm glad to see you."

Even in the dim light of the cell, his eyes are almost glowing red.

[feed_the_lost]

"Are you?" Will asks, lifting his eyes slowly. "I'm not sure Imam." but he still steps closer.

[cook_the_rude]

"I am sure certainty will come as the Dragon draws closer," Hannibal says, tilting his head slightly.

[feed_the_lost]

"The allure of the perilous." He steps to rest his hand on the glass, and then his forehead. "I gave this up, Hannibal. I gave you up."

[cook_the_rude]

"You tried to," Hannibal says quietly, coming a litte closer. "But I wouldn't go. You always knew where to find me, you could never quite quit me -- like something tenacious sticking to your shoe."

He smiles now.

[feed_the_lost]

"More like something chewing on my brain stem."

And he was through the glass, leaning his hip on Hannibal's big desk, back in the room they'd shared so many conversations.

"Too close to my frontal lobe to safely be removed."

[cook_the_rude]

"Too deep in your Becoming," Hannibal says, from behind the desk, both hands flat on its surface, "to excise me, and still remain you."

[feed_the_lost]

"And what do you become, if you're bound in this with me?"

[cook_the_rude]

"The beast that lowers its antlers to your touch, and charges those who want you ill," Hannibal says. "Myself, and then what you need from me."

[feed_the_lost]

"My becoming and your, what? Devotion?" the last work lifts with a note of disbelief.

[cook_the_rude]

"I am not that selfless, my dear Will," Hannibal says, amusement in his voice.

[feed_the_lost]

"What do you want, Hannibal?" Will circles around him, turning his back to Hannibal, looking into the flames. "When you lowers your antlers to my touch?"

[cook_the_rude]

"For you to see me," Hannibal says, softly. "To live under your gaze, and to be myself in your eyes."

[feed_the_lost]

Will comes back over to lean on the table again, at Hannibal's side, arms crossed and eyes down. "See." he echoes very softly, hearing Garret Jacob Hobbs' voice as well as his own.

[cook_the_rude]

"That is your great gift," Hannibal says. "You see monsters; I want you to forsake all others, once the Dragon is dealt with."

Pause

"If we can deal with him."

[feed_the_lost]

"I tried to forsake them, remember? Including you. And yet here I am."

He cocks his head, looking down at Hannibal. "You don't believe we can deal with him?"

[cook_the_rude]

"If it were that easy," Hannibal says, "it wouldn't be worth our time."

[feed_the_lost]

"And that doesn't bother you, does it." Will huffs, not posing it as a question.

[cook_the_rude]

"If you want to win your life, you must risk it," Hannibal says. He steps closer, and looks into Will's eyes.

[feed_the_lost]

Will looks up, into those eyes. Looking for the monster and seeing only Hannibal. Or perhaps seeing the monster and finding Hannibal.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal's eyes, a reddish, almost glowing brown, hold Will's gaze with a fond smile, hiding nothing.

All around is filled with monsters and prey, but Will is here with him, on the inside.

[feed_the_lost]

Will lifts his hand, palm flat.

Feeling only cold glass.

[cook_the_rude]

"Soon."

[feed_the_lost]

"Threat?"

[cook_the_rude]

"Never a threat to you, Will."

[feed_the_lost]

"Promise then." There's the briefest tweak of a smile at the corner of his lips as he pushes off the glass.

[cook_the_rude]

"All the promises you need," Hannibal assures him.

[feed_the_lost]

Will doesn't look back.