cook_the_rude | (no subject)

(no subject)

"Going my way?"

Hannibal had turned the car around, opened the door and dropped the body of their police escort as he'd never drop that much litter. He still wore his grey uniform from the State Hospital, but his smile was utterly free.

The car smelled of gunshots and blood, but it would do.

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Will huffs darkly and turns away, heading into that room and closing the door.

The sun has set by the time he comes out, clean and dressed as he leans against the window, looking out at the sea.

"He won't be long now," Hannibal says.

He emerges from another door, smelling of steam and oud, wearing neutral colours now, his hair still badly cut, but damp and free.

Will looks over, looks him up and down. Then looks back at the window. "At least you'll die looking like you."

"If I have to die," Hannibal says. "We may yet come out of this alive. Once the Dragon is here, the outcome is fully open."

He runs a hand through his hair.

"But yes, this may be a last moment for me to be myself."

"What does that make me? My becoming? If you cease to be you." He looks around to Hannibal, eyes dark. "Do either of us survive separation."

"If we do," Hannibal says, "you will take me into the future within yourself, or I you: - the only remaining person who could really see the other."

"What will there be to see, if we're both changed by the Dragon."

"Then we just leave pieces for Jack and Alana to puzzle over," Hannibal says. "Which would be a waste, so let's by all means avoid it."

Will toyed with something light and silken, brushing it between the fingers of one hand. One of Abigal's scarves, the ones she use to hide her father's scar.

"We wasted too much as it is," Hannibal says, as if picking up on that. "Time. Potential. Perfect moments."

Will turned sharply, harsh words on the tip of his tongue. His eyes blazed at Hannibal.

And then the moment passed and he dropped the scarf, shoulders sagging. "I need a drink."

"I'll get us some wine," Hannibal offers, smoothly. "And music. There is no point in waiting in silence, with bated breath."

Will turned his back, staring out at the darkened sea, watching the moonlit crests of waves.

Soft piano music starts to play from unseen speakers as Hannibal's steps retreat downstairs, towards the inside of the cliff house.

Will closes his eyes and tries not to feel Abigail at his side, or hear her voice.

"If everything that can happen happens, you can't really do the wrong thing. You're just doing what you're supposed to do."

Hannibal is making noises that involve wood and glass, as if to let Will know where he is.

Abigail's presence is slight and ephemeral, like her silken scarf.

Will sniffs and lets her ghost go, like a waft of perfume on the air.

as Hannibal's steps return, with the clink of glasses an a bottle.

Edited 2018-12-30 16:01 (UTC)

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