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Chapter Text

The silence really was helping. It was right to heed the advice. 

Will had once been a practitioner of a no-noise lifestyle in his home- just the sound of movement around the house, the rustling of leaves against the windowpanes, and the occasional whimper of a dog. It was a near-hermitic habitation - his property so inviolable, that deliveries were sent to either his office or a P.O. box. The entrance barred with a rickety and rusty steel gate that no self-preserving person would think of passing through. There were no expectations of any visitor because his address was never given out. 

But then, he met Hannibal Lecter, his now fiancé, (in twenty-four hours, his husband), and since their affair, there were constant rollings of a black Bentley, vehicles of associates like Alana Bloom over for tea, or Jack Crawford and his team going over murder cases while munching on Hannibal’s brainfood quiches. The noise – the buzz of conversation, classical music playing low in the background, laughter from quips, the sweet ring of a kiss on his cheek, those, he had begun to appreciate and seek over time.

One year after, he cannot bear not having the sound of life from his person- just the simple thump of a knife against wooden block, or the whisper of a page being turned or the precise click of steps provides a thrum to his heart. By some kind of miracle, life has brought him this magnificent man and the music that came with him is priceless in value. 

Hannibal had said it would do him good - to immerse himself in the home of his bachelorhood before he becomes a husband. A decompression for the compressing time ahead. Tomorrow, everyone’s eyes will be set on them and there will be wedding speeches and toasts. Will promised he would also give a speech to honor his new husband, and that is the most he can do. The rest, well, Hannibal would have to take the brunt of all the socialization. They prepared for it and have practiced Will’s ‘fake laugh’ for four hours and still, it sounded like a hyena’s.

In Wolf Trap, there is no need for you to put on a face and smile all the time. I know how you detest smiling for anyone but me, Hannibal had teased, and he was right.

And so here Will stood in front of his living room, terribly missing his soon-to-be-husband, but enjoying the play of his conversations with him alongside the peace that his home always brought him. It had been a dependable sanctuary and though he had appreciated the peace, he is happy in the current place in his life even more. He will be married to the love of his life and though, loneliness might hit him at times, he will never be alone. 

Then, a knock on his door. 

Will quickly turned around to face it, and beamed. That sly, wonderful man. Of course, he couldn’t stand to be apart from Will and has chosen to accompany him in his decompression. They didn’t believe in the superstition of not seeing the groom before the wedding. Hannibal told him he is welcome to either spend the night at Wolf Trap or come back in their Baltimore home. 

He turned the knob and opened wide; arms already outstretched to receive him but then he came face to face with a mirror. 

The reflection saw his open arms and stared up at them in obvious confusion.

“I, I don’t do that with strangers. We shared the same womb, yes, but we are technically still that.”

Will, for his part, just gaped and did not speak, simply blinked and hoped that there will be a wiper that would replace this apparent doppelgänger and his fiancé would take his place. Perhaps the silence had done rewired his brain sideways. But the man turned around to dart a quick look behind him and, without preamble, brushed past Will and shut the door. He fiddled with the locks until they are slot into place. He walked to the windows and snapped the curtains shut.

“Who are you?” Will managed to ask. The man was his spitting image, same wide, wild curls, curve of nose, and slim build. Will had known enough of himself to see that there is also a similarity with the way the man’s whole body vibrates with a heightened state of anxiety.

“My name is Adam Raki. I am your brother. We’re twins.”

“I don’t have one,” Will said, flatly.

“I just told you. We are. We were separated at birth. Our mother took me and ran off with my step-dad and you’re left with our father.” It was delivered in a matter-of-fact manner that would have left Will to burst out laughing at the contrast between the seriousness of delivery and the absurdity of content. He’s sure there’s a movie about this very scenario or at every soap opera has a storyline of a long-lost twin.

“My mother died shortly after I was born,” Will said, “my dad and I even went to her grave when I was a kid. Unless she had a different name.”

Adam, apparently his instant twin, tilted his head toward his own shoulder and his eyes darted in quick movements around the halo of Will’s head. It was disconcerting to see another person do a motion that he knew he himself would carry out, and it sent a wave of shivers down his chest.   

“He’s my dad, too. She died shortly after five months, yes. We will schedule a talk about our biological parents at a later time. For now, there is, there is an urgency and I need your assistance. I’ve seen your wedding announcement in the Baltimore Times page and my dad told me about you before he died. He doesn’t know what our father named you but when I saw you on the picture, I knew it was you. My step-dad is dead now, so we can’t ask any more questions. Dead.” He paused and rubbed a hand on his mouth. “No. What if Nigel died too? I can’t lose him, he can’t die! And if I die, he’ll die too. You have to help me.”

Then, Adam dropped to the floor, legs folded with his knees up to his chin, and he swayed back and forth. It is a foreign yet familiar sight for Will, the senses to be overridden with overwhelming emotions that he would adopt a deflective stance. It’s wild and insane but he was beginning to believe this. That this might be is his brother. He’d still insist on a DNA test, of course. There’s always an off chance that the man could just be an imposter and was setting him up for a scam. Adam’s knowledge of the engagement announcement on the Times was telling. A quick research on Hannibal would tell Adam that Will is marrying a man of means.

“Adam,” Will said, crouching down beside him but careful to give him space. Adam continued to sway forward and backward. Questions about their separation would have to be asked later, if there really was one. For now, he’d have to catch the man before Will is going to be just caught up in some kind of con. “Alright, take deep breaths. When you’re ready, tell me why I should help you.”

Adam nodded and did as told. Drops of large tears streamed down his cheeks. Will didn’t know if he should be moved by how much he could relate to the deep distress he is embodying (because he’d experienced that one too many times himself) or impressed of his acting abilities.

“Darko. Darko’s men. They’re after my Ni- Nigel.” 

“Alright, I don’t know who they are, but why are they after him?”

“Nigel- deal gone wrong so he has to fix it. He got word that they’re going to abduct me so he’d keep his promise- bring back their money but we don’t have anyone to trust – you’re my blood. You can help me.”

“This Nigel, is he your friend? Because it seems like he’s the one who can help you with this. Look, my wedding is tomorrow, you can -”

“Nigel’s my husband,” Adam interrupted.

Will almost let out a chuckle in spite of the clearly serious situation. So, they’re both in the same scale too.

“He’s in trouble,” Adam continued. “And he can’t trust anyone but you because we are brothers and our blood should be stronger, that’s what I should say. What Nigel said I should say. I don’t like to lie. I don’t know if it’s a lie but Nigel says so and I trust Nigel.”

“So, because of your husband’s mishaps, I should drop everything, hide you in some kind of safe house while he gets money to pay back some gangster, and when everything is all good, I’ll return you to him in one piece, is that it?”

“Yes, I’m glad you understood right away because I don’t like to repeat myself. Also, you have to stay with me at all times because you are an FBI agent and you can shoot Darko’s men when they get too close. Nigel said they’re doing a statewide search and it won’t be long before they catch up to me so I have to convince you very quickly. Are you convinced? Because we really need to get going.”

“Convinced?” Will stood up. Despite himself, he looked out the window to see if there is a marauding group of henchmen coming to abduct them. “I don’t even know if you’re my real brother and even if you were, I’d suggest you move, don’t look back, and never see this Nigel again. It doesn’t seem like he’s good for you.” 

“You’re one to talk. Your future husband is the Chesapeake Ripper.”

Will’s blood ran cold and he walked toward the man crumpled on the floor and fisted the collar of his shirt. 

“What did you just say?”

“You heard me. We followed you. You both put a body inside a tree and opened his abdomen and placed flowers inside. They looked really pretty. Nigel said it was his favorite among all his corpse designs. We took pictures. If you’re not convinced, Nigel said that’s what I should tell you. You’re not so, there. You’re both the Chesapeake Ripper. And if you are not going to help me, he’ll go to jail. We only took pictures of him doing the installation, not you.”

“You’re lying.” Knowing he had a twin had shocked him but this having been dealt this card derailed the very train of his footing and he could only crumple and raise Adam’s shirt until they were standing face to face. He went pliantly and kept sniffing, upper lip trembling.

Adam levelled his eyes to Will’s and looked downward after a flicker. “I’m sorry. I can show you the pictures on my phone. My husband is desperate. He’ll do anything for me.”

Will, despite having told Adam to simply drop his husband because of the trouble he brings, knew that if Hannibal were in the same situation, he’d lie, cheat, steal, and of course, kill, just to keep him safe. This Nigel’s desperation to safekeep his husband shouldn’t be a distant concept to Will but timing is everything. They should have chosen to land into trouble on any day other than today. Even if Adam is a stranger, for the sake of shared physical features, Will would have drove Adam to his and Hannibal’s safe house or their other forest cabins. Any other day but today. 

He released Adam and walked to the kitchen and took two glasses. Filled each one with water and handed one to Adam, who took sniffy little sips. 

“This is not a good way to treat your brother,” Will said, surprising himself. That came out of nowhere and Adam’s shoulders made a little startle. He gazed up at Will, as if trying to detect any sign of humor. 

“I know,” Adam replied, finishing the last of his water. “I don’t like those pictures on my phone. Your husband seems nice, he kind of looks like my Nigel too. You can hide me, tell your husband, have your wedding, consummate your marriage, and come back to me. I would like to meet him.”

“You said you don’t like to lie. I would just like to ask one thing, is everything you’re saying the truth?”

“Yes. Well, except of us being brothers. DNA evidence can prove that. Otherwise, yes. I do not like to lie, Will.”

Will considered his face and let out a long sigh. 

“Alright, fine. I’ll drive you to one of the cabins we own. And you will stay there until I come back with my husband.”  

Adam let out a small smile. “Thank you, Will. Yes, you will be a husband the next time you see me. It’s the most wonderful thing in all the universe.” 

Will had shouldn’t be smiling in this particular situation he has landed himself in but he did nonetheless, and wished the hours will speed faster so he could be just that, Hannibal’s husband. 

“Alright. And how are you communicating with Nigel?”

“We have burner phones.”

Will nodded. Good. So, this Nigel knows his business. It seemed like he’d been involved in a drug bust or had a bad day at an illegal arms deal. Will is not one to judge. To each their own crimes. “Alright. Wait right there.”

He grabbed a duffel bag and loaded in his handgun and his hunting rifle for good measure. It’s hunting season, it will be a good alibi if ever they’d get pulled over.

Adam stayed where Will left him and followed him outside and waited on the porch as Will locked the door. Adam walked in timid steps behind him and only got inside the Volvo once Will was seated. 

Will rolled out of the driveway and looked back at his house and sighed. It was not the silent pre-wedding retreat he had envisioned for himself but then again, who would have thought one would have a twin sprouted out of nowhere. 

As he drives on the highway, he can’t wait to call Hannibal on his way back home and make him guess what just happened. On who Will has stowed in their Cabin number 3. Will wondered if Hannibal would like to meet Adam right away or a simple phone call would suffice. He made a mental note to tell Hannibal to bring his blood extraction kit for the DNA test. And also, to ask for the man’s burner phone number. 

Adam remained silent beside him but his body retained a sense of high alert. He kept darting looks at the rearview mirror. 

Will did not like this, of course, and in an instant, he is attuned to the rush of traffic as well. There were only a few cars in the opposite side, all heading to Baltimore, and there was none behind them. Will reached to the back seat and grabbed the bag and dropped it to Adam’s lap. 

“Just open the bag.”

Adam did, in too quick a motion that it rang throughout the vehicle. 

And like Adam whipping into Will’s life, there was a car suddenly on his side, on counterflow, an outline of a gun aimed right at him. 

“Get down,” Will yelled and glass broke, spraying shards all over his lap. Head still down, he swerved to the left, to move the other car off-course but it anticipated his move, and Will wasn’t able to make contact, his own car now in teetering to the side. Another bang and a bullet tore through the windshield, too close to Adam’s side. 

Then, a prick on his neck, and he immediately felt for it, hoping to stop the blood but there wasn’t and instead is long needle with a feathered end. He plucked it, and said a swift ‘fuck’.

“Adam,” he said and he noticed immediately that his voice began to slur. “I’ve been hit. Tranq – quilizer. Sit top of me. Drive fast.”

Adam has already crawled into the leg space on the passenger seat, the duffel bag on top of his head. “I can’t drive Will. I’m sorry I can’t.”

He kept driving then slowed down. He looked at his side mirror and there was a no sign of the other vehicle in pursuit. 

“Shoot them,” Will said, slowing down to park by the side road. He could make out a copse of trees. Adam can run there. “Or run.”

“I- I can’t shoot. Nigel doesn’t allow me to hold a gun.”

“Then we both fucking,” he slumped forward to the steering wheel, the fog of sleep slowly taking over, his limbs laxed, legs numb. “Dead.”

A knock on the car’s roof.

“Adam, gorgeous, you in there?”

It sounds like Hannibal’s voice but only rougher, looser. Will had still hoped it was him and he somehow swooped in to rescue Will, somehow saw his car being chased by goons. 

“Nigel?”

“I’m here. This your brother?”

“I’m so happy you’re here. He’s been tranquilized. We were being shot at.”

“Took care of that, you know me. I’m your hero, baby.”

“You really are. I miss you so much. Please come here.”

“Just one minute, gorgeous, we have to move your brother.”

“Oh, OK and then you kiss me.”

“You’ll get more than a kiss after all you’ve been through, you're so fucking brave, baby.”

Will felt his body being hoisted up by the armpits by thick hands, and a small grip over his ankles. He was dropped, sat on the backseat; a seatbelt fastened over him. Blackness took over soon after. 

-

He woke with a jolt, as if loud alarm bells and cold water had doused his senses all at once. Wiped his eyes with the heel of his palm and saw that he was in a bedroom, an unfamiliar one, the walls wooden on the side of the window, the rest a garish wallpaper of sunflowers. It doesn’t look like any of his and Hannibal’s safe houses. The wallpaper alone would have to be heavily down-voted by Hannibal. The events from the day played all over his mind, and he jumped off the bed so fast, his soul might have left his body. 

The light from the window that overviewed pine trees, was bright and a wave of panic set it. It was too bright.

Morning bright.

No.

He looked around and by some kind of mercy, there sat his phone on a bedside table. 

He tapped the screen and the date and time made him drop to his knees. 

It was the day after his wedding. He'd seen enough of that date to know what day is before it and what day is after it.

And today is the day after.

No.

He tapped it again and still it said the same.

No. No. No.  

He slept through it all. Slept through fucking wedding day.

There were missed calls, airline notifications (their flight for their honeymoon in Africa was set for later in the afternoon), and text messages. He dialed Hannibal’s number immediately but there was no signal. 

He opened the text messages and hoped Adam had sent Hannibal a message of assurance, or even better, given him the address of wherever they are holed up in. Hannibal must be at his wit's end. If Adam didn't, surely, there must be a search party underway. The FBI's resources will be heavily deployed. There'd be more trouble if Adam and apparently, Nigel, didn't give Hannibal any inkling of Will's whereabouts. He'd been sure that rescue and exchange in the car was not imagined. If it were, he'd be dead by now. Nigel, specifically, as a man long living in a life of crime, would be an expert in tactical self-preservation. Stowing away an FBI agent would lack foresight and be, simply put, stupid. 

He blew out a deep sigh and scrolled through Hannibal's messages. Of asking where he was, that he was getting worried. That he was heading to Wolf Trap.

Darling, please answer me.

Darling, I hope you are well.

Darling, please. 

Then, there was no more message after 'Will's' reply. 

What it said dropped Will further down the floor. 

'Hannibal. I’m sorry. I can’t do this. Please don’t look for me.'

Chapter Text

It took two attempts before he achieved a steady foot to walk toward the door. He stopped to lean on the frame, looked left and right. There’s another bedroom at the far end, door slightly ajar. The motion of turning his head to find an egress tilted his balance and he quickly cupped a hand to his mouth to keep himself from retching. The area where the needle hit his neck was excruciatingly sore, and his shoulders are as heavy as bricks. Hannibal could massage it; he knows all the right spots to knead and loosen. When they’re together again, Hannibal will. 

He closed his eyes and focused on the drift of his stream and conjured Hannibal’s calm, loving face, telling him it’s going to be fine, darling. His face bright and glowing and then, as if from a click of a second, there’s a flow of tears from his eyes, hands wrapped over his face, knees folded in a bearing of complete sorrow.

Hannibal, no. I love you. Please don’t ever think I don’t.

At the end of the hall, he heard a sound of light laughter. With it came a surge of white-hot anger within Will, strong enough to pop his eyeballs. Assholes. Those two ruined his life, subjected his Hannibal the humiliation of being jilted at the altar, and they have the audacity to laugh?

Find a weapon, knock out that Nigel if he has to, take their keys, and drive the hell away. He has to close the length of time that Hannibal is out in the world thinking that Will isn’t certain of his devotion. 

One foot forward and he is still reeling. The hallway was blessedly dim. He ambled toward the sound of the voices, down the end of the hall to toward what he presumed is the main area of the house. The side of his head hit the hallway wall and he propped his hands to steady himself. Another door and he saw a bathroom. He needed to piss so bad but first, business.

When he reached the end, he blinked against the light, fought another wave of nausea. To his left, he spotted an empty white vase on a coffee table, clutched it but nearly dropped it at first hold. He gripped it with both hands, tightened and untightened his hold to test his strength. It’s less firm than he would like but he would trust his adrenaline and instinct to fight, just as Hannibal would say, his body would anticipate and attack, all without as much as a tick on the beat of his heart. 

After a few blinks away to slough off the fog, he saw them on an oversized couch, the stretch of Adam’s back the first thing he saw and slow movements of hands running through his lower back. He ambled forward. Another blink and he saw it for what it is, Adam straddling and grinding his husband, all the while lip-locked. The man below him seemed to be whispering something and Adam kept shutting him up with his tongue. He couldn’t make out the face, as it’s always constantly covered with either Adam’s mouth or hands. 

Fuckers. 

Nothing came out from his mouth. Clearing his dry throat took effort, his mouth as if stuffed with cotton, and he wanted to go back to the bathroom to collect himself so he could properly beat the living daylights out of them but then five minutes would pass and that is more wasted minutes of Hannibal not knowing where he is, still believing that Will could betray him. He’d have to do it quick and just aim for their heads. Hannibal had taught him how to best put a good and effective conk in the head. He’d practiced it on two of their preys, got it at the first try. 

There’s no ounce of consideration for Adam – he’s complicit to all of this too, probably wrote that cursed text. Fuck. He’s pissed again, which he’s grateful for, all the easier to smash the vase on their heads. 

“You –. “ The ‘fuckers’ he intended to say was a mere rush of air. God dammit. 

The fuckers kept at it, so swept up in their morning romance in the cabin to notice the looming threat behind them. He could just really knock out them out and that is what he decided as the best course of action. Let them have one last foray and the next time they wake up, they’re hog-tied on their bed. He moved forward, mindful of his every movement, aiming to be as quiet as a mouse watching humans go at it. 

“Come on, baby,” Adam muttered, head bobbing as he pecked his husband’s forehead. “Fifth time, please, here. I’m gonna miss your body so bad.”

“Hardly got any sleep, doll, I have to –“

There’s only the sound of wet smacks. “I hate to hear you say that word. You have to make up - ” More lip noises and grunts. “For the nights you’re not with me.”

“Yes, of course, gorgeous, anything. Anything for you,” Nigel said, sighing, letting go of his hold on Adam’s hips and shifted his lap. There’s a familiar sound of an unbuckling of belt. God, this Nigel is so easy, no self-control – no wonder he is where he is - in hot shit. 

Will, for his part, was still trying to walk a straight line and though still groggy from the tranq, felt a pang of jealousy of seeing tenderness shared among two people. At this time, if he hadn’t had Adam barging in on his life, he should have woken up next to his new husband, have lazy morning sex, and wait for the rented town car to take them to the airport. The timing of this all, that Nigel had to get in some beef with men with odious names like Darko, well, they’re going to have good timing from Will Graham’s wrath too. 

You motherfuckers broke my Hannibal’s heart. 

For a career criminal, Nigel’s instinct is shit. Will is all but looming behind his precious Adam, with a weapon, albeit a weak one, and still, he’s pouring lube from a large bottle, hissing along with sounds of slick on skin. Will doesn’t know when it happened but he is now seeing a buck-naked Adam, the globes of his ass dotted with purple love marks, his upper back not much different. Though he was still pissed they didn’t wake him up while down on tranq, he was glad he didn’t get to hear the four rounds of sex. Adam and Nigel seemed to be both the type to be loud in bed. 

“I’m still loose from last night,” Adam said, voice thick with lust, something familiar to Will, as that is exactly what he’d sound like while on top of Hannibal. 

“Daddy fucked his doll real good last night, yeah?” came Nigel’s hoarse reply. It’s unnerving how with another decibel; he’d sound exactly like Hannibal. He has an accent, too, he could only place it as Eastern European. Adam mentioned he looked like Hannibal, which is ridiculous, no one could ever be in the same caliber of superior facial structure as Hannibal. 

“Real good, Nigel. I want you to make me sore for days.”

They begin the starting motions of fucking and why the fuck is Will still watching this?

He raised the vase, formed a defensive stance, fist ready if ever he needed to swing. A temple punch, he decided is the best approach. The blow would cause the brain to rock violently against the skull lining and would cause a blackout. Adam will be down first, and would slump down on Nigel, giving Will a window to catch the man unawares, and then knock him out as well. They’re lucky Will’s in a hurry, this is less a punishment than they deserved. 

He swung, but then it swung back, opposite to the direction of Adam’s head, with a force enough for him to release the vase and it hit the upper frame of the fireplace with a crash. 

A snout of a gun is the next thing he saw and then, came the shock of finally seeing Nigel’s face. 

It can’t be. 

“Hannibal?” he said, feeling a slurring on his lips. 

“He’s not. His name is Nigel and he’s mine,” Adam said from behind the man’s shoulders, circling an arm around his chest. They move quick, he’d have to give them that. Again, he cursed the fog of the medication and wished to high heaven that it’d disappear with a snap. He’s hallucinating, he’s sure of it because no one could have a dead accurate copy of Hannibal’s face like this. A few more blinks of staring and he was given a clearer picture of Nigel, hair looser and longer, dusty blonde, face not as smooth and even as Hannibal’s, dark spots over his cheeks – might be a smoker. There’s an ugly, lewd tattoo of a woman’s silhouette on the side of his neck, and he was now convinced this is not his man indeed, but Adam’s. Hannibal would never deign to have a tattoo on his skin, and even if he would, it wouldn’t be as gauche as printing it on the neck. 

“That’s right, gorgeous, I’m yours,” Nigel said, and gave Adam’s temple a kiss. He raised the gun. “Now, Will is it, why don’t we fucking behave. Start over and I’ll pretend you didn’t just fucking try to knock my doll out.”

“The hell-“ Will shook his head and fought with all his being not to retch and vomit all over the obscene display of unclothed bodies across him. He’d do that later. A quick scan told him they stayed as is, naked and unbothered, and by the looks on Nigel’s- still half hard. 

Adam rubbed a hand on Nigel’s arm and lowered the aim of the gun. Made a shushing sound to his ear. “We must make introductions. Will, this is your brother-in-law, Nigel. Nigel, this is my brother, Will.”

“You,” he said and paused, still struggling to form words, his mouth heavy, feeling and tasting like lead. “Not my brother.”

Adam frowned. “You are my brother. I know about our parents and we look so much alike –“

“Angel, no. You look a million times better,” Nigel interrupted, leaning forward as it to get a better look a Will. “More gorgeous, eyes more blue, angelic– he looks like he’s always frowning and thinking too fucking hard. Look at all the wrinkles around his eyes.”

“Yes, I see what you mean,” Adam said in an agreeing tone. “He’s beginning to have more defined forehead lines too. Do I look more youthful?”

Nigel turned to look back at him and smiled, and for a moment, he looked like Hannibal, particularly when he’s sleep-warm in bed, smiling at Will like he is the sun himself. “By ten fucking years, baby.”

“You’re sweet,” Adam said, and they rudely and crudely began to kiss. 

“Shut the fuck up,” Will said, relieved he could release a full sentence. “Let me out. Take me to my husband.”

“Well, technically," Adam said in between the kissing and petting. "He isn’t your husband.”

“Whose,” he stopped to gather his voice again. “Fault is that.”

“Nigel’s,” Adam answered after pulling himself from Nigel’s mouth. “He got in trouble and we needed you to take care of me while he gets the money. You got hit by a tranquilizer gun and you should be thankful it isn’t a bullet because a bullet in the neck is fatal-“

“Fuck shut up.”

“Will.” Adam frowned. “That’s rude.”

“I think your brother is still feeling everything, angel. Give him time.”

“My Nigel’s so understanding. I’m sure your fiancée will understand, too.”

“Ruined wedding. Hannibal left thinking -” Will couldn’t continue because he knew that if he put more thought into it, it’ll start with one tear and next thing he knows, he’d be weeping and gnashing his teeth in biblical proportions. “Brothers don’t send text like that.”

He has to concentrate on the anger, to make them see the impact as his body is clearly not up for a display of Will Graham’s incandescent rage as originally planned. 

“Nigel had to send it. We couldn’t wake you up!”

“Try harder.”

“We did. We had very loud sex, right Nigel?”

“There was howling,” Nigel remarked. Hannibal’s doppelganger or not, Will wanted to punch that self-congratulatory smirk off his mouth. When his body is normal again, he promised himself, he will.

For a moment, he wanted to ask if they were having sex right on the bed where he was sleeping but it was such a waste of breath. If it were the case, he knew Adam would be very descriptive of the sex, and Will would have to tell him to shut up again, as a real brother should.

“Need to talk Hannibal. I’ll take care Adam while you, you’re away. Please.” They’re wasting time. A plan should be underway. Find Hannibal, manage not to get killed, explain, and make a schedule for another wedding. Kiss him senseless, too. Straddle him once they’re alone. God, he missed him. 

“Can’t do that, brother,” Nigel said, raising the gun to align with Will’s stomach. “You stay here with Adam.”

“I will not stop,” he arranged his voice to be as deep and serious as he could manage. “Until I get to Hannibal. Take me to him or the next time you see Adam, he’s knocked out and tied up.”

“I don’t like this,” Adam said.

“You’re not doing that to your fucking brother, brother,” Nigel said, matching Will’s tone. 

“He’s not my brother, brother.”

“I really don’t like this fighting,” Adam said, and he and Nigel rock forward in a fast back-and-forth. Will focused on their faces because if he’d regard the whole picture, they still look obscene, naked with a spread of clothes around them, and now there’s a light rocking, making it a more uncomfortable sight. Because it’s not carnal, but a form of the same motion when Adam was crouched on his floor in Wolf Trap. A sign of distress.

“Angel? It’s alright. He doesn’t mean it,” Nigel said, shifting a tone that is soft with soothing. 

Adam buried his face on the crook of Nigel’s neck and continued on with the rocking, Nigel looked like he is accustomed to this and he gave Will a scolding, scathing look (reminding him of Hannibal again, when he’s displeased with Will’s shenanigans), and began whispering assurances. 

“He does mean it,” came Adam’s muffled reply. “He doesn’t want to be my brother. He doesn’t like me.”

“Bro- Will,” Nigel said, dropping the gun on the floor and splayed his hand, as if to say he’s safe. “Please tell Adam you like him.”

“Don’t tell and force people to like me, Nigel. It doesn’t work that way.” Adam raised his hand to his head but Nigel was faster, he caught his pale wrist, took the other one as well and placed it to his chest and they rocked together, slower than the previous pace. 

“I’ll beat the fucking shit out of anyone who doesn’t fucking like you darlin’, you know that. Even your brother. Now, Will, please, yeah, we’ll go to town together, alright? You’ll call your man –“

“No, I go see him.” He can’t go on not seeing Hannibal for another day, he knew he physically can’t. The weight of withdrawal is heavy. Like he was not attached to his body, like he was walking on a hole, not landed in footing, floating without his grounding element. “Then we come back to Adam.”

“He doesn’t want to come back to me,” Adam’s tiny, whiny voice cuts through. “He’ll leave me here.”

“Wouldn’t do that, angel, since we have proof of them being the Ripper, remember? They’ll behave.” Nigel, even while gently swaying his husband as if they’re reading a bedtime story, donned a steely gaze. Will wasn’t fazed. If only, it made him all the more nauseated. 

“I’ll go back to Adam. I promise. Let me go to Hannibal and we have a deal.”

Nigel paused and regarded Will’s face. Then he nodded. “Deal. But I won’t go fucking near him. He’s the fucking Ripper, for Christ’s sake. So –“ He pointed at the mass of brown hair on his neck, still making whimpers and groans. Tears are trailing down, forming droplets on his chest hair. 

“Adam,” Will said. The rocking stopped. Wet, wide and blue eyes that matched his own peeked, face an expectant question. “I will come back to you. Believe it or not, I did feel like there’s a part of me that’s missing. Times that I’d feel sudden pain or a burst of anguish, or joy, even when my environment doesn’t call for it. So, it makes sense that I have a twin.”

“You have that, too?” Adam sniffed. “Twin intuition? I feel that, too. There are times when I couldn’t explain what is happening and then I locate the delta Aquarius star- that’s the wishing star, and wish you’re okay.”

Will was still pissed, yes, and part of him is doing this so that they could wrap this up, and attend to Will’s physical needs, by order of hurling, water, taking a piss, getting the hell out of this ill-styled cabin but there was honesty in what he said. Those were the most words, full sentences he could string so far in his sorry state. It may be a myth but he truly could feel a blood-connection with Adam that a positive DNA test wouldn’t be a surprise. 

“Thank you, Adam.”

Nigel gave him a look of approval and began showering Adam with praise. Will wanted to tell him to fuck right off. The light of forgiveness won’t touch them for a million years, that text he sent, it derailed everything. “So let’s go, I’ll have to-“

The rush of the contents from his gut spilled out from his mouth and to the rug, and to his great pleasure, to Nigel’s feet. Then another bout of vomiting, mostly water now. Too bad Nigel already put his feet up the couch. 

Adam wrinkled his nose. “Gross, Will.” 

“Sorry. Could say the same to the two of you,” he said after he wiped his mouth with the end of his shirt. He headed to the bathroom, not bothering to look at them and said, “Put some clothes on. We leave in five minutes.”

They’re thankfully dressed once he returned to the living room. Not much of a difference, since he left. There is still one person on top of another. This time, it’s Nigel towering over Adam. 

Two minutes, he’ll give them that. He went to the kitchen to take two glasses of water. Plucked a finger from a hand of bananas placed on the counter, quickly finished it in a minute. Chewed on a couple of peanuts. The vomiting made him feel better, clearer and gave him no remorse of not cleaning up his sick on the rug and the shattered vase by the fireplace. And later, if Nigel accidentally gets pushed to a muddy ditch, that’s his problem. 

He walked to the couple playing tongue and limb twister and cleared his throat. With the water, his throat is feeling better for clearing and interrupting ongoing carnal activities. 

“Let’s go.”

“I hate that word,” Adam replied from under Nigel’s mouth. 

“In a fucking minute.” Nigel growled to Will, sounding the most angry that Will had ever heard him. He turned back to Adam, and Will resisted the urge to laugh. His face, so tender and slack, mouth pouty like he’s talking to a baby. In Hannibal’s face, it is astronomically comical. “We’ll do that, baby, so we can go back to you, right? I love you so much, angel,” Nigel said, and tears fall on Adam’s cheek. He brushed them away with his thumb.

“Thank you for still fucking me here,” Adam said, wrapping his arms around his neck and running his fingertips through his hair. Greasy. Hannibal would never allow that much oil on his own. Then, Will registered what Adam just said. He’d been in the bathroom to just do his business, wash his face with cold water, and rinse his mouth with Listerine, so when he kisses Hannibal, at least he won’t be stale. How the hell could they fuck that fast? 

“Our fastest fuck, yet.”

“Yes. The fastest you got hard, too. You’re amazing.”

“I am, don’t you forget it, baby. When I come back, we’ll try it again.”

“I love you.”

“I fucking love you, angel.”

“Please don’t die for me. I prefer you alive.”

“I won’t, gorgeous.”

They kiss and grope again, saying I love you like the words would run out. 

Will should keep his wit in check because he just stood there, like before when the two were naked and making love, standing like a voyeur. Or a creep. He’d just later tell himself that this is an occurrence that is experienced by a few people, of having a doppelganger of himself and his partner. It’s fascinating, to say the least. Like he is in a parallel universe and this is the mirror of a life if Hannibal chose to be: some European thug and Will would be, well, he isn't much different from Adam- bordering on the spectrum and sometimes clueless on how to be operate as a human. 

At last, Nigel removed himself and hoisted Adam up. 

Adam walked to Will and did a surprising thing: he wrapped his arms around him. An embrace.

“Thank you for not killing us, Will. I know you’re a Ripper, too and you did scare me awhile ago. I would never make the same face as yours, you’re terrifying. I don’t like to be terrifying. I hope your fiancée doesn’t kill you because of the misunderstanding. I’d like to meet him and it’s better if you’re alive so it won’t be awkward. I’m confident that if we were to compare, Nigel’s more handsome –“

“Honey,” Nigel said, gently, in a tone that Will thought he uses often when Adam goes into long tangents. 

“Oh, right.”

“I’d like him to meet you, too.” Will wrapped an arm around his back. “Mine is more handsome, but that’s because he’s mine.”

Adam nodded. “I see what you mean. Take care, Will.”

“See you, Adam.”

Adam released him and expectedly walked to Nigel to probably give his hundredth goodbye kiss. 

Will walked outside to leave them to it. “One minute,” he yelled. 

His Volvo is parked there, windshield with a large spiderweb that came with the bullet, among a copse of trees that are cleared only for the driveway. A black Hyundai is parked beside it. There isn’t a GPS in the Volvo, old thing that it is and he hadn’t bothered to install one. That’s one reason why he chose to use it to stow Adam away, so Hannibal wouldn’t track them. He’d thought he’d make Adam as a surprise to Hannibal. They’d both have a new brother.

it’s a surprise, alright. One of catastrophic proportions that could cause world wars. 

He tsked over the broken glass, knowing it obviously wouldn’t be fit to use. Hannibal had gifted him a Range Rover and he’d been using that ever since, and only had the Volvo for trips with the dogs. He could kick himself for the lack of foresight. If he used it, Hannibal would have tracked him here by now. 

Nigel walked to his car, motioned a ‘this way’ to Will. His gait is different from Hannibal, more sway in the hips, feet light, shoulders loose. A lighted cigarette between his lips, Will’s duffel bag on one hand. Will didn’t bother to ask about the guns, he knew Nigel would pack heat, considering what he’s going to do, to cool the hot water that he’s in. 

Nigel handed him the bag and was silent during the drive on the dirt path to the highway, one hand on the cigarette, blowing smoke to the open window, one on the steering wheel. 

Will isn’t up for chitchat as well, and he just memorized the outline of trees. They join the main road, and it’s familiar to Will. Good, they’re still in Virginia state. He estimated it’s hour away to Wolf Trap. 

He pulled his phone from his pocket. “I’m going to call him now.”

Nigel nodded, his countenance a full 180 from when he was with Adam. One he recognized in Hannibal on the day of the hunt or when they’re on a case. Steeled, determined, hyper-aware. 

“We’re going to a guy I know who sells them cheap, I need another car. You use this.”

Hannibal’s line rang and rang and when it came to the beep of the voice mail, hearing Hannibal’s voice on the recording, pleasantly telling him to leave a message after the tone, and he’s not proud of himself- the tears burst and he’s a crying mess. 

“Baby, it’s me. Listen, I didn’t send the text, it was my twin brother’s husband. Sounds crazy, I know, but baby I’ll tell you, I’ll tell you everything. I missed our wedding because I got tranqued – slept throughout our day, I’m so fucking sorry it happened, you must be so-“ BEEP.

“Fuck!” He slammed his fist against the console. Fast tears flowed and he wiped them with the back of his hand.

“I’m sorry,” Nigel said, which surprised him. A quick glance and he registered it as sincere.

Will dialed again, and yelled another ‘fuck!’ when he received a ‘the number you have dialed is unavailable at the moment.’

“What you just told him, it’s –“

“Crazy, you think I don’t fucking know that. Fuck!” Hannibal’s face comes to him and there is pain of the betrayal that he just wanted to kiss away, stow him away to a room, lock it, and if it takes days, weeks, or months, he won’t let them leave until there is not a trace of sadness left in Hannibal, all replaced with Will’s scorching, all-consuming love. He’s going to make up for it with his body, soul, brain, with every inch of his skin. Marry him in City Hall and show it on social media. Hannibal would then know he’s dead serious since he knew how much he hates posting pictures of themselves online. 

“I’m going to tell you something fucking batshit crazy,” Nigel said, pursing his lips to blow smoke. “What if I come with you, straighten things out with the Mister? Show him pictures of me and Adam on our wedding day.”

“He’d kill you on sight, he might think I ran off with you.”

“That is the batshit crazy part, brother.” Nigel lighted another cigarette, the first butt still on his mouth. “Adam said it, your man is terrifying. Cracked the neck of that tree guy like a goddamned twig. But if I’m there, he’d believe you. Might think we’re twins too. Adam said we both should take DNA tests, and it’d be funny if we’re brothers. He’s Lithuanian, right? I’m from Romania.”

Will considered it. If Hannibal doesn’t kill him first, then maybe he could get around to talk and explain, then hopefully, things would smooth out. That Hannibal would think the idea of his own twin would be fascinating and he would prefer Nigel alive than the alternative.

Where’s the star that Adam talked about, he could use a wish right about now.

“It’s possible. He’s terrifying, yes, but he’ll listen to me. We’d have to keep distance. Keep your gun, aim it at him if necessary. Until I get his ear. But we need to get that car first. Him seeing us in the same space isn’t good optics.”

“Aye, Captain,” Nigel said, making a lazy salute. “Least I could do. Hearing your pathetic message- “

“Hey, easy,” Will said, without heat. He released a deflated breath. “Yeah, fell apart there, alright.”

“Fucking tragedy.” Nigel flicked out his first cigarette, flashed him a small smile. “But I saw you like that and it’s a fucking flashback to me, a goddamned pathetic mess when Adam and I fight. I sent that message and thought maybe it could help you, maybe you were just trapped in a relationship with a fucking serial killer, Stockholm Syndrome all up in your shit or whatever the fuck. You could just leave it at that but you still go back to him, again, him, the goddamned scariest, piss your pants killer, the goddamned Chesapeake Ripper. When this blows over, tell him that even the biggest fucking thug, and I’m talking built like a truck kinda men, that whenever a new Ripper kill comes out, they don’t walk to an alley alone. Turned them to fucking pussies. Goddamned boogeyman, you two. Gotta thank you for that.”

Will couldn’t help but laugh. “Hannibal would find that amusing. That the Ripper’s got street cred. And he did take one down, some giant, he’s seven feet, I think.”

“I know that one. Decapitated, holding his own head like fucking Goliath?”

“That’s the one.”

“That guy beat up a lot of davids, too, I’ve heard of him. Real piece of work.”

“Glad to be of service.”

Nigel laughed through his smoke, flicked out his finished cigarette, and reached out to his door pocket to pull out an opened can of Red Bull. Gulped it in one go and cleared his throat, “Marrying Adam was the happiest, goddamned purest thing I’ve ever had. Sorry about the wedding.”

“Yeah.” Will ran a hand over his face. “Well, it’s done. I just have to get to him, clear things up. We can have another and you’re paying for it.”

Nigel laughed again. “If the deal goes well, brother, the wedding and honeymoon’s on me.”

He slowed to a stop, heading to a gas station, and parked. “Gotta gas up if we’re heading to Baltimore. Stack up on more mac and cheese for the Mister. Anything you want inside?” He pointed to the 7/11. 

“Could use some ramen, chicken if they have it.” Hannibal would frown upon him consuming such junk but after the night that he had, something warm and filling in his belly would be a comfort. 

“Put hot water on it?”

“If you don’t mind me eating in here.” The car looked brand new, there’s still hints of new car smell. 

“No problem.”

Will ought to call Hannibal again. If he doesn’t answer, he’ll leave a less pathetic message on the machine or text him he’ll be heading home. 

He dialed and it thankfully rings. There is also a trill of a phone outside. A seagull flew overhead. Nigel unbuckled his seatbelt. The hairs on the back of his neck tingled. A crowbar, black stark against the blue sky, hit the glass on Nigel’s side of the window. 

A hand gripped on the back of Nigel's head, held back and slammed forward to the steering wheel. 

“Hannibal!” Will shouted. “No.” 

Hannibal grasped Nigel’s head, turned it toward him. Nigel lets out a whimper. A flicker of confusion is on Hannibal face, he must have registered the uncanniness of resemblance. A second later, it was gone. Replaced by stone smooth blankness again. Another grasp, held back to the seat to gain more traction then slammed again, the force shaking the entirety of the car. 

Will grabbed Nigel’s shoulder, the man immediately unconscious, blood trickling down his cheek. This seemed to infuriate Hannibal even more. Understandably so. Like a wife/husband defending the lover when the husband found out. 

“No?” Hannibal said, face cold and it sent ice down Will’s spine, cold enough to stop his heart. He is operating in full Ripper mode, and it’s fucking terrifying, he sees it now. The main function in his brain is to kill, kill, kill. 

“This is my twin’s husband!”

Hannibal did not seem to hear him. He turned to allow his other hand to fit inside. Will knew this stance. He’s going for Nigel’s neck, to kill or paralyze. 

“Hannibal, listen to me,” Will said, holding down Nigel’s head, checking his pulse. Weak and thready. More or less alive. “Give me one minute, please, please, if you love me, please…”

That seemed to stop Hannibal, the machine in the Ripper calculating, considering. He opened his mouth but then there’s a hand over it, a man’s covering it with a white cloth. Another man held on to his arm and began dragging him to a black van.

“Husband’s in there.” Will heard someone say. 

“Grab him.”

Will pulled out the first weapon his hand came in contact on from the bag, it’s a revolver with a silencer. Good ol’ Nigel. Through the rear mirror, he spotted a man with a gun circling to his side of the car. He shoots, it hits his clavicle.

“The fuck.” 

“You said the husband’s some kind of pussy.”

“That’s what he fucking told us.”

Will crawled and crouched to the back seat, aimed upward to shoot the glass, aimed to hit the neck of the man hoisting Hannibal’s body inside the van. Bullet makes contact. 

“Fucker can shoot!”

“Grab Lenny and let’s go. Those fuckers got cameras.”

Will shoots the one attempting to grab ‘Lenny’ on the shoulder. Lenny is apparently the one Will shot first. 

The van’s door is closed shut. There’s enough ground for it to make a turn and it does, slamming the car once then he heard the unmistakeable swing of a vehicle’s door open on the opposite side. Will threw himself out from the car, to the front of the van to aim for the driver. He got the window to shatter, one leap and he could get him. Pulled the trigger, but the vehicle moved forward, and it only hit the driver’s arm. It sped out to the highway. 

Will ran to the Hyundai, transferred Nigel’s body to the backseat. Went back to the driver’s seat, fastened his seatbelt, and pushed the pedal- the black van still in his line of vision. 

Chapter Text

The van that held Hannibal inside continued its course on the freeway with Will trailing behind in hard pursuit. There were only a few vehicles along the road, mostly RVs and trucks and the van cut over the slow-moving vehicles, the urgency clear in its speed. Careless in its maneuvering that it once hit the back bumper of a trailer truck. After a few passes, it sped up to slot itself in front of a ten-wheeler, an obvious attempt to conceal itself and wait for an opportunity to lose Will’s tail further. Will himself hid behind a livestock truck with just a sliver of the van’s tail lights to keep track, knowing it wouldn’t be long for them to make their move.  

After a few miles, as predicted, the van quickly swerved to enter the next farm road and if Will weren’t in such an adrenaline-filled and apprehensive state, he would have pumped his fist up in the air. He knew where that road lead to – to old Ernest Johnson’s dairy farm. He allowed them to pass and did not follow further. Let them assume that Will or Nigel’s ‘pussy’ husband had lost them. 

Call it cosmic coincidence, luck, or the universe making up to him for the bad timing he had had over the last 24 hours – whatever, but of all these parts of the sticks, those fuckers who held his fiancé, a mass murderer, had to enter a road that Will been immersed in the past. He, Hannibal, and the rest of the team spent two weeks coming in and out of the land after three bodies were found in poses of crucifixion on the trees. Clues were left around the area on to where the next victims were posted. Hannibal had noted that the work was unoriginal and hollow of any significance but still, Will knew he had enjoyed the chase. They’ve caught the killer, campily named the Crucifixer, a week later. 

There was a path parallel to where the van took, just over a quarter of a mile away. He sped up to take it and he breathed in relief to see the van speeding through the lines of longleaf pines and yellow birches. They must know there was a way to go around the barns and take an exit that lead to another farm. Will has to intercept it before it reaches the clearing. One clue from the Crucifixer was on a road to cut through the one the vehicle is on. He could ram Nigel’s car to the bumper, and hope that there was enough ammunition to take down, give or take, five or six men. He’s only one against – since Nigel seemed to continue to be indisposed in spite Will’s fast driving and swerving. He hoped the concussion wouldn’t be too much of a damage to his brain. He wouldn’t want Adam to take care of a mentally incapacitated husband.

Hannibal had suppressed his white-hot rage until the very moment that he had seen Will with another man, and all that power was directed to Nigel, the unfortunate fuck. That was not what Will expected as a retaliation to Nigel for sending the text but, well, an eye is not always equal for an eye. It can be an eye for the frontal bone slammed into near shatter on a steering wheel. Delivered by the scorned fiancé. 

“Nigel,” he yells, looking at the man behind him. “Wake up, I need someone to cover me.” 

One hand on the wheel, mind half on the road, he reached out to give Nigel’s bloodied cheek a slap. A response of a hitched breath and wrinkling on his eyelids, but not much else. He’ll give Hannibal shit for it later but he must say he’s impressed on just how solid he knocked the Nigel out. ‘Brother’ looked like he had a thick skull, too. 

The memory of Hannibal in all his fiery anger brought out the familiar wave of arousal that comes whenever the scent of wrath and death wafts through. The Ripper in him, cold and closed, made Will want to breach it even more, claw his way to his walls until he is broken in and breathless. The thought of Hannibal pummeling the head of Will’s supposed lover to a pulp with such righteous intensity, it sent Will to a time when he remembered an unsuccessful roleplay of Will as a cheating husband. When Hannibal became enraged at the very idea of Will being touched by another that it unleashed his beast and it consumed him with such fury that Hannibal almost broke Will's wrist. After the intense, rough, possessive sex, they had to put a clause to their private vows that if any one of them is unfaithful, the lover will be tortured to death and then, they are not certain yet, but they know that the agony will be strong enough for the aggrieved party to commit a murder-suicide.

But then, the vows, private or public, haven’t been said yet. And to himself, Will vowed that he will tear every limb and blood vessel to every one of those thugs who had the audacity to take his man, the fucking love of his life, and treat him like a run-of-the-mill victim when they, the Chesapeake Ripper, are the ones who create them. 

The entry path to cut to the van’s way was nearing, and he swerved to the right to enter it, pushed the gas as the van sped its way forward. If Will kept his pace up, he would hit the back of the vehicle and cause it to spin off. 

He was still halfway through but it seemed like his plan came early. The van was veering to the edge of road, the tires giving a loud crunch against the dirt as it made a sharp turn to the right as an attempt to recover its place on the middle of the road. 
  
“Yes,” Will hissed, grinning to himself. The van was erratic as if the driver was trying to fight to maintain his course, and, as Will drove closer, he can hear sound of thumping and shouting within the confines of the van. 

That only meant one thing. Hannibal is awake. 

Will just stopped at the end of his path and simply watched the van teeter to the side and then come to a slow stop. Not a gun was fired, and Will expected as much. Hannibal would utilize not just his hands but his entire body, taking out two at the same time – one to snap the neck with his hands, and a foot to kick a head against the window. A headbutt, if needed. All he knew is that everyone in the entire vehicle is out save for his fiancé. 

Will did not know what he would do first. Kiss the man senseless or wrap his arms around him so tight, they will gasp for air or (since every person around them is either dead or out cold), drop to his knees and suck Hannibal’s cock. 

The van swayed side to side and he saw the driver’s head propped downward to the steering wheel. He saw a hand slam the already blood drenched head over and over and Will remembered the same action done upon Nigel. 

Fuck. 

The Ripper had never left. And once Hannibal sees Will’s supposedly traitorous mug, they will be done for. Adam would be left a widower and without family. The image of Nigel’s torture and Will’s death would be the only command running in its head. Chloroform has nothing on Hannibal, he was all too familiar with the chemical as it is still his go-to when he wants to knock out a victim. His consciousness may have been snuffed out for a few minutes but that would not keep him from recovering faster than the normal man. He may have been awake longer than any of those goons have thought and he was just feigning sleep and simply biding for the right time to strike.

The van remained closed, though it continued its violent swaying, and Will took it as good enough of a time to drive the car back as far as he can. He looked back at Nigel, still asleep, which was a relief since Will does not need his face to surface and further aggravate Hannibal’s beast. 

Hannibal’s rage is a black thing and soon he will step out of the light and hell of biblical proportions will surely be unleashed if Will doesn’t come up with the right words to pacify him. He can try, but he is no match for Hannibal’s physical strength, his mass broader and his blinding purpose to bring justice to his jilted, ‘betrayed’ self will only multiply his intensity to kill. 

Will pulled the ammo bag closer to him and rummaged through the contents. He took a Glock 19X, checked the bullets, and tucked it on the back band of his pants. He knew better than to point a gun at Hannibal but he will have to be prepared for any eventuality nevertheless. Especially since he’s dealing with the Ripper. 

After further checks, he wasn’t able to find what he needed: a tranquilizer gun. It wasn’t expected to be one of Nigel’s stash anyway but it would be the best, albeit a cowardly way, to deal with the situation. There’s no sense in talking to a jealous, thunder-striking god and so, he should just go through the same experience as Will and Nigel: knocked out cold and wake up with a hell of a headache. 

Overhead, the door of the van opened and out stepped Hannibal. 

He knew exactly where to look. Straight at Will. For a moment, there was a flicker of relief on his face but that was quickly swiped out by blankness. Even from far away, Will saw it. Hannibal’s snarl of quiet fury.

Will stepped out of the car and held out his hands to splay up in the air. 

“Hannibal,” he says, trying not to sound like he’s yelling or raising his voice. Beast or man, Will could weep simply having Hannibal at his sight. Whole, as whole as two personas can be in a man, and Will’s skin itched to connect, touch, and kiss. God, he missed him.

Hannibal walked forward; his steps heavy on the dirt track and entire bearing coiled tight and completely focused at Will’s face and he knew that Hannibal and the Ripper are tracking his expression for any falsehood.  This is the most precarious situation that he’s ever been with Hannibal. Any wrong lift of an eyebrow or a quirk of a mouth will send the man jumping, and then snapping his neck. Green is the worst color on him.

“I have a brother,” he started, walking slowly. “We’re twins. His name is Adam.” It’s best to repeat what he’d initially told Hannibal on the car while he was bashing Nigel’s head. 

Hannibal remained silent, face still enclosed in ice. Only his eyes moved, scanning and reading. Will hoped Hannibal won’t take the beads of perspiration on his forehead as a tell of lying. 

“That man is his husband.” 

Hannibal’s eyebrow raised just a slightest bit and Will took that as a sign that he’s truly listening. 

“He ran into some trouble. Adam has no family. Just like me. They tracked me down. Adam came to me at the house and asked that I – I mean, we, hide him until his husband deals with his problem.”

They’re just a few feet from each other and Will could scent the tension and trepidation, and then there is deep, throbbing pain of betrayal and the thought of being unloved and tears burst from his eyes at the rush of hurt that he felt by just the nearing of the space between them. 

“Hannibal. Baby. I missed you,” he couldn’t help but say. 

Hannibal just pressed his lips together. Blinked.

“While Adam and I were on our way, I got hit by a tranquilizer by the men chasing us,” Will continued. “Nigel got in time, took me, and they kept me in their hideaway cabin. Nigel sent that text while I was asleep.”  

Hannibal’s face fell at the last statement. 

'Hannibal. I’m sorry. I can’t do this. Please don’t look for me.'

That was what shattered Hannibal the most and Will could not delay it any longer, he ran to close the space between them, threw his arms around Hannibal’s brick-solid shoulders and pulled him tight. 

“I promise you, I can never say that. You are my life, Hannibal. I want nothing more than to marry you. Say our vows so I can finally, legally have you for life.“

He felt Hannibal breathe and soften against him while his chest is racking with his light sobbing.

Both of Hannibal’s hands ran through his shoulders. Will leaned back, grateful that Hannibal is moving and touching him again. Then, there’s a hard grip on his chest and he was pushed down to the ground. 

“Excuse me?” was all Will could exclaim. His lower back rang with pain upon impact. After what he thought was a pretty good speech and sobbing to boot, Hannibal would just throw him to the dirt?

Hannibal did not look down at him further but was gazing on the horizon behind Will. Hannibal’s nostrils flared and his hands made a twitch. Will looked back to see and let out a loud and sharp, “Fuck.”

Nigel was ambling out of the car like he was a foal trying to stand upright. Hannibal, moved forward, robotic in his stepping. All the tells of his intent to rip every flesh from Nigel’s body. 

“Nigel,” he yelled. “Run!”

Nigel did not seem to have heard him as he continued to grasp the car’s open door for support and even had the gall to wave at them with one free hand.

Hannibal did not look back at Will but he increased his pace and Will knew that was for Will’s ‘betrayal’, of him warning the fool to avoid impending death.

“He’s going to fucking kill you!” Will repeated, putting emphasis on the words that matter. “Fucking run!”

Nigel heard it this time and his face registered with a look of panic. 

Will knew he can’t put Hannibal in a chokehold. And trying to fight him off would be futile. So instead of running toward their direction, he ran to the van, where he hoped that the henchmen had a good number of tranquilizer guns in their stash. He’d give his searching at least 30 seconds and if unsuccessful, he’d just have to go for the chokehold. He winced at that thought. That endeavor is sure to break a bone or two.

He jumped inside and the men are all twisted and face-planted on the surface where Hannibal had last put contact with his hands. He pulled up a leg to have further access to the flooring, and so he saw it – a duffel bag that is bound to store some choicest weapons. He pulled it off from a man’s chest and bingo – a tranquilizer gun, just as previously prayed for.

Overhead, he could see Hannibal having Nigel held upright through Hannibal’s grip on his shirt collar. He ran as fast as his feet can fly. Nigel looked to be still trying to regain his bearings, and was mumbling incoherently, and Will could only make out ‘brother’, ‘sorry’, ‘don’t kill’ and ‘my Adam’.

“Hannibal,” Will said, all the while gasping for air from his bat-out-of-hell run. “Last warning. Please drop him.”

Hannibal did drop him. Then, he put both of his hands on Nigel’s throat. Nigel’s arms flail around, but it was a powerless motion, as he is still obviously affected with his concussion. 

Will took aim, pulled the trigger, and the dart hit Hannibal’s right buttock.

He stilled, turned to look back at Will. 

“I’m sorry. I love you but I did this so you can listen to me. You’ll meet Adam and –“

Hannibal swayed, gave him a glower of hurt, and then dropped his head to Nigel’s shoulders. The action pushed both of them to the ground, Hannibal’s dead weight caging over Nigel.

“Fu – fuck,” Nigel pushed and kicked himself away, and crawled a few feet further, as if Hannibal was still in danger of waking. 

Will ran to Hannibal’s stoned form and checked his pulse. It was steady, and so was his breathing. He kissed his cheek and murmured a round of apologies to his ear. Cradled his head to his chest and ran a hand over his hair. Hannibal looked like he hadn’t slept or eaten, and the lines on his mouth are more pronounced. He could use this time for rest. 

“How the fuck – could you - kiss that fucking machine,” Nigel blurted, voice hoarse, his breathing loud against the chirping of the birds on the woods. His mouth hurled out clear spit, lower lip quivering with distress. 

“I had this machine under control until you got your face out,” Will retorted, and he kissed Hannibal’s forehead just to piss him off. Nigel winced in a mix of disgust and terror. 

“Would’ve fucking got him if he didn’t fucking bash my head in before.” He looked at Hannibal again, and retreated backward, putting a hand on his reddened throat. “Fucking bogeyman almost crushed my goddamned windpipe.”

“You’re fine,” Will said, taking a scan on his face. He looked terrible, of course, his face like he’d been stung by a hive of bees, the area under his eyes are a terrible mesh of purple-blue, and an unsightly gash on his forehead was a prominent, grotesque thing. “I’m surprised you didn’t piss your pants.”

“Fuck you,” Nigel spat. Then, he got up, and stumbled to the copse of trees and Will still had enough decency not to laugh as he saw Nigel go to the nearest tree to relieve himself. 

“Hurry up. Help me get the boogeyman in the car.”

“I ain’t touching that fucking thing.”

“That thing has a name.”

“I’ve been a fucking terror back where I came from but I never fucking …” 

Will couldn’t hear any more of Nigel’s tirade as he saw a vehicle oncoming – a motorcycle carrying a black leather-clad man. Will laid Hannibal down gently, took out his gun, and stood up – the gun pointed straight at the approaching man.

The man took out his helmet and got down. Will has never seen his face before. Tall, dark-haired and when he saw Hannibal on the ground, he cursed in another language, mentioning Nigel’s name, a sign that Nigel is acquainted with the man. He looked back at Will.

“Hey Adam. The fuck happened to Nigel? He alive?” 

“You wouldn’t want to be involved here so just turn around and get the fuck out of our way,” Will said, aiming the gun higher.

“Easy, Adam.” The man has a similar accent to Nigel’s. “Put that down, you don’t know how to use that.”

“Darko!” Nigel ran and nearly stumbled to walk to stand next to Will. “You fucking piece of shit. Stay the fuck there so I can fucking kill you.”

Darko stepped back when he saw Nigel and then at Hannibal. “The fuck’s happening? You look fucking whacked.” He pointed a Hannibal. “You hired some body double?” Then, he peered closely at Will. “What’d you do to Adam? He looks dark or evil-looking or some shit.”

“He is fucking evil. It’s Adam’s fucking evil twin!”

“Fuck. There’s more of them?” Darko grimaced. “Evil fucking twin of yours, too?” He gestured at Hannibal.

“Brother-in-law.”

“So where’s Adam?”

“None of your fucking business.”

“What the fuck? So Adam’s evil twin fuckin’ chose someone who also looked like your ugly ass?” He bent lower to look closer at Hannibal. “Better skin. Shit. That’s what yours would look like if you fucking put moisturizer like I keep fucking telling you.”

“Nigel,” Will finally said. As much as these two were mildly entertaining, it was quite undignified to talk while Hannibal was lying unconscious on the dirt. “Settle your shit, whatever but help me get him inside while you do it.” The men paused to look at him, as if only realizing he was there. “Please,” he added.

“Fine,” Nigel relented and once Will got Hannibal in the armpits, Nigel took hold under Hannibal’s legs and they began walking to the backseat of the car. Darko walked behind them.

“He was the one who took out your idiots.” Nigel pointed his head to Hannibal’s body. 

“Not mine. Centaur wanted to take you for the prize. Tracked those idiots’ route so I can fucking rescue your ass.” 

“Got any rope?” Will asked Nigel.

“In the trunk.” Nigel went to the driver’s side to pop the hood. “Help yourself.”

Will walked to the trunk and on a plastic drawer were different kinds of rope. He took out manila rope since it was the one with the most reasonable length. If Hannibal would stir on the way to the cabin, he’d ask Nigel to tie him up quick so at least his neck is safe from strangling.

“Marcus said you ratted me out since it was either your ass or mine.”

“Marcus is fucking weasel who fucking lied. That’s just to test our alliance. I told them I’d find the money with you. And it didn’t disappear, alright? Centaur took it and wanted you get the heat so he can look good to the Mc – “ Darko looked shiftily at Will and leaned nearer to Nigel’s space.  “Not in front of evil Adam.”

Nigel nodded then turned to Will. “We’ll just discuss business, then we head to Adam, yeah?”

Will already has Hannibal, which was what all that mattered to him and there wasn’t any need for any rush, save for maybe getting everyone a proper, non-nauseating meal, and douse their heads into ice. Convincing Hannibal that it was all these fools’ fault is a problem for a later time. They can wait for a few minutes. 

“OK. But we have to do something with the van.”

Darko shrugged. “Yanik’s got it.” As if on cue, the van moved forward then used the road to set a leeway to go back to where it entered.

“It might have his DNA on it,” Will remarked. 

“I’ll handle it,” Nigel told him. It just came to him that Nigel didn’t tell Darko of their status as FBI Agents. Will reminded himself to tell him later that he appreciated his sense of tact. 

They walked just a few feet and discussed in hushed tones. Will took one last check on Hannibal. He continued to sleep like a baby, innocent as a lamb. That would most probably mean that the placidity that he displayed during sleep would be the complete opposite of his temperament once conscious. They will have their work cut out for them and if gun to the head to either Nigel or Adam is needed, he would do it until Hannibal believed every word.

He was sweeping out the shards of glass from the driver’s seat and saw them in a bear hug. Will was wiping blood from the wheel when shouting broke out from the two men. A punch from Nigel to Darko’s face and the other retaliated with a fist to his left shoulder, one which easily sent Nigel to the ground. 

“We didn’t just fly away from home, be real fucking brothers,” Darko said, rolling his shoulders. “Got through fucking hell and you forget everything once you saw Space baby boy with sparkling eyes, and forget the shit we had put up with just to get where we fucking are. You can’t fucking quit yet.”

“Don’t you fucking dare talk about my fucking husband that way. Adam adores you. His fucking future is what I think about. Those motherfuckers know who he is now and that’s gonna fucking keep me awake at night. He could be snatched any time. How the fuck are we gonna convince them that Centaur took the money?”

“That’s why we always gotta keep each other on the loop and figure shit out but we fucking can’t because you kept getting holed up in your apartment balls deep in dick! Adam is this, Adam says that.”

“Because he’s my husband, asshole. That’s a fucking round the clock job.”

“I don’t mind you having your dick tied up in a ribbon. Don’t fucking give a shit. I was all good with Adam until you took him to our fucking place."

“What? The Cajun Crab?"

“What the fuck else? You fucking swore you’d never go there without me.”

“So were you in there, seeing my ass if it were so fucking special to you?”

“I wasn’t, asshole. I know that place was sacred. Johnny saw you. Said Adam was frowning all the time, didn’t eat shit, and just watched your fucking pie hole stuffing a whole fucking lobster.”

“We were in the neighborhood because Adam was gonna pick up some old space planet book and I was fucking hungry, and it was there so I got fucking in.”

“You fucking live with him and he’s all that you fucking see. You could have just fucking texted me!”

Darko moved forward in a motion to throttle Nigel and Will, who has had enough of the childish bullshit, stepped in between them, both his hands pushing the men away from each other.

“Alright, enough,” Will said, and gave them another push back. “Set a date for your Cajun Crab day every month or twice a month, whatever, so we can move past this. I’ll take care of Adam.”

“Second week of the month. Saturday,” Darko immediately answered. 

“But that’s when Ah –“ Nigel stopped when he saw Will give him a stern look. “Fine.” He gave Darko a small smile. “Fucking thought of you while I was balls deep in lobster anyway. I love Adam but he doesn’t know how to appreciate good shit on earth.”

“That’s what pissed me off the most. But I love the little dude, you know that.”

Nigel smiled wider. “Yeah, brother. You know you’re his favorite uncle.”

Darko looked like he wanted to hit Nigel again so he patted their shoulders. “That’s great. Now, we have to go.”

“Adam’s got family then you ain’t introducing me proper and shit to him,” Darko mumbled, staring back at Will’s face again, like he most probably can’t get over the fact that Adam’s face could make different expressions and word choices that are spoken roughly and with command.

Nigel smacked his forehead, which was a wrong move for he grimaced hard at the contact. “Fuck. Yeah, well, it’s not sure yet because they didn’t DNA yet but yeah, this is Will. Will, Darko. He’s good, he’s my brother. Family to Adam and me.”

They both shook hands. 

“The other one’s his fiancé, should have gotten married yesterday but all hell broke loose, so.”

“You shoulda let him pay for the wedding.”

“Already told him that,” Will replied.

“Atta boy.”

“We’ll meet up tomorrow, yeah, man?” Nigel said, putting an arm around his shoulder. “Gotta talk and fix this shit. We good now right?”

“Yeah, we’re good.” Darko looked like it would take little for him not to just weep. Will never had a friend that he considered as his best friend so he understood the feeling of neglect once the friend has his priorities changed due to marriage.

“Once Hannibal recovers, that’s my fiancé’s name," Will told Darko, "we’ll all have lunch. He makes a mean seafood boil. It can beat Cajun Crab’s.”

Both men voiced their protests, saying that Hannibal can try, but he can never beat their precious fucking CC.

Will went ahead to the car while the pair said their final exchanges.

After, Nigel sat on the passenger seat, looked back at Hannibal’s sleeping form, and breathed a sigh of relief. 

"I didn't tell him you're FBI but Darko's good. We both took bullets for each other way back."

"Thanks. Appreciate it. You should make do with your promise for seafood. People like that in your life are hard to come by."

"I do fucking forget that there are other fucking people sometimes. Once Adam looks at me with those fucking eyes, I'm fucking gone, man. Consumes the shit out of me."

"I know what you mean." Will feels the same when he's with Hannibal. They both do. 

"Love is a battlefield all the fucking time."

“I’d like to help you out with your problem,” Will told him as he started the car and began driving. “Give me the names, the nature of business, and we can check in the Bureau.”

“Yeah?” Nigel cleared his throat.

“Yeah. We’re going to be all a big family soon. We look out for each other.”

“You don’t even know if Adam’s your real brother.”

“Consider it still your lucky day even if he weren’t.”

Nigel chuckled at that. “Fucking lucky day for fucking sure.”

Will may have lost his scheduled wedding but he still has his man. And he may have gained a brother. He still knew deep down, that he is. The fact that they both have the same mental complexities and that they have the same taste in men. And it all wouldn’t have happened if Nigel weren’t so desperate to stow Adam away because his business dealings went awry. 

All in all, it’s still considered good timing.

“When we’re there, help me tie him up and sort this out with Hannibal. It’s going to be hell when he wakes up.”

Nigel shifts in his seat and looked back at the driver’s seat, and Will let out a low chuckle at the display of fear written on a face that is more or less like Hannibal’s. 

“Shit. Mind if I smoke?” Nigel asked. “I’ll open the window.” 

“Sure.”

Nigel reached out a pack of cigarettes in his back pocket and lighted one. Opened the window to let the smoke out.

“Yeah, fuck. The bed’s bolted to the floor. Tie him up there. We’ll fucking role play if we have to.”

Will let out a short, sharp laugh. “He hates role play. That’s sure to break the bed.”

“Really?” Nigel shook his head. “You’re missing out, man.”

Will shrugged. “We make up for it in other ways.”

Nigel took a long drag and went silent, as if imagining the other blood-curdling, gory ways the ‘other way’ could mean. It was sort of endearing how he let out a shiver and then looked back at Hannibal again, as if he couldn’t imagine a machine, even someone who looked like him, being passionate. 

“You’ll like him once you get to know him. He has a dark sense of humor, too.”

“If he fucking speaks in Shakespeare and shit, he might as well be talking to a goddamned wall.”

“Dante’s more his style.”

“When I hear Dante, I just say Inferno and I only know that because I dated a chick who was into that shit.”

“We’ll find something in common. All of us will.”

Nigel flicked out his spent cigarette and lighted another. Glanced back at Will. “You know, Adam and I didn’t just fuck all night while you were out cold. He spent most of the time just looking at you and getting all jumping and excited because he finally had a brother and he said you were grumpy and shit but it didn’t fucking matter because you’re fucking there. He looked so fucking adorable. So, I’ll tell you what he likes and what he doesn’t, OK? You’ll see, he’s a fucking gem.”

Will glanced at Nigel, in a dreamy-like expression, combined with pride of the one he loves and will keep fighting for until the day he dies. Will recognized this type of love and he thought it was only him and Hannibal who had it.

A love that felt like dying, a devotion that is interlaced with pain, and an all-consuming hunger for the other's presence. Will had long come into terms that his life would only involve Hannibal and there is no room for anyone else. But here he was given an opportunity to express a different type of love.

To a brother. Well, brothers. He and Hannibal, and the Ripper, would have them, too. Another marriage bound by blood and circumstance. A creation of family. 

“I can see that he is. I’m looking forward to get to know him better.”