The 7th and final chapter of Keeping Myself Alive Through Your Empathy is uuuuuup 😊😊😊😊😊🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪 (and has almost 2k words of Will Graham finally getting railed.)
“Jack. How wonderful to see you again,” Hannibal says. Will doesn’t disconnect from Hannibal, keeping one hand at his back as he turns toward the other two.
“For fuck’s sake, Will,” Jack says. “You’ve sunk so low.”
“Hey, don’t be homophobic,” Vi says.
“I’m not homophobic. He’s a cannibal,” Jack juts his chin toward Hannibal.
“You didn’t tell me that part, Billy Bob! That’s fucked up.” She looks genuinely impressed, and Hannibal can’t help but grin.
“Who the fuck is Billy Bob?” Jack’s eyes drop to the pulp that used to be Josiah’s face. “And who is that dead man on the floor?”
Will’s hand has lowered to Hannibal’s hip. Hannibal couldn’t be more delighted at the way he doesn’t shrink under Jack’s scrutiny. It may not be too much to hope that Will is unashamed of his nature as he stares Jack down.
“That’s Josiah Taylor, so you’re welcome,” Will says.
“And that’s Hannibal Lecter!” Jack shouts.
Keeping Myself Alive Through Your Empathy (39448 words) by The_KickIt_Domain
Chapters: 7/7
Fandom: Hannibal (TV)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Characters: Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham, Original Male Character(s), Jack Crawford, Jimmy Price, Freddie Lounds, Villanelle | Oksana Astankova, Brian Zeller
Additional Tags: Established Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham Loves Hannibal Lecter, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Post-Fall (Hannibal), Post-Canon, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter Are on the Run, Serial Killer OC, Blood and Violence, Light Dom/sub, Bottom Hannibal Lecter, Top Will Graham, Top Hannibal Lecter, Bottom Will Graham, (they flip), Anal Sex, Choking, Sadism, Home Invasion, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, (neither of those things involve will or hannibal), Love Confessions, Blow Jobs
Series: Part 2 of Caches
Summary:
“Have we chased the nightmares away?” Hannibal asks. Are you still with me? he doesn’t. But Will hears his silent question. The bed creaks as he turns onto his side, and Hannibal rolls over to face him.
“I was so cold for so long without you, Hannibal. And now that you’ve taken me out of stasis, it hurts like hell.” There’s a waver in Will's voice. Hannibal wonders if their new intimacy has shaken his foundations as profoundly as it has Hannibal's.
“Now that you’re letting yourself feel again, your wounds are exposed to the open air.”
Will rolls his eyes. “When the snow melts, you can see every dog turd from the whole winter out on the lawn."
"Such a beautiful mind you have," Hannibal says. He’s rewarded with an audible laugh, and a demure glance through thick eyelashes. “I’m right here, Will. I will help you adjust to the temperature.”
–
After evading the FBI, Will and Hannibal hole up in a cabin deep in a Pennsylvania forest to heal their wounds and their relationship. As winter melts into spring, another predator on the run turns up to find his usual safe house is occupied.
Am I the only one who headcannons that Hannibal and Will are just like... happy and settled post TWOTL? I feel like they got most of their issues out. Will tipped them over to let fate decide if he gets to be happy so... if they survived, he gets to let go of his reservations and just... be himself. With Hannibal.
Post-Fall Hannibal trying Will's habits (and stuff) out of size when he's not around.
Putting on his sneakers rather than the leather shoes he usually wears. Trying to make box mac and cheese, giving up and adding dried parsley to it (he never missed his spice shelf more). Going fishing all by himself in galoshes.
Just
Post-Fall Hannibal missing his husband when he's not around and doing the things he does to feel a little bit like him.
“I love you,” Hannibal says. Will looks up at him, his face beautiful even in its deeply scarred state and in the fluorescent lighting of their motel room.
Hannibal goes on. “I should say it without saying it. Words are inaccurate and banal. What most term ‘love’ is as futile and inadequate as an ant describing the Grand Canyon. But I am inadequate. At least now—my thoughts thick with opiates that only begin to dull the pain of my injuries. I’ll say it again, even so: I love you. My love for you is endangering and absolute. I would incarcerate myself again, if you wished it. I’m as small as that ant without love for you. I would spend my life mapping the canyon with my molecule of a body to be able to describe it to you as an expression of my feelings. There’s nothing I would not do.”
“Hannibal—“
“You needn’t say anything in response,” Hannibal says. He picks up the can of soup Will brought back to him. Stolen, most likely, and with great stealth to avoid being seen. “I just needed you to know, and to believe what I feel, despite the shortfall in my telling of it. Do you believe me?”
“Are you going to eat the soup?” Will asks, softly.
“Yes,” Hannibal says. “I am hungry and I am going to eat this can of store-brand low-fat condensed tomato soup.”
Will smiles. “I believe you.”
End
Note: with being under the weather lately I’ve been eating a lot of gross bland soup. This was the result.
