Chapter Text
Will lays in his hospital bed, his body burning. His nerves shocked and weary as they are numbed by countless pain medications. He stares at the ceiling, his body bound to the bed, not by cuffs but by his own inability to walk. He shakily swallows, his throat dry and his mouth like sandpaper. He wished to be home, with his dogs, his wife, his house… everything. But no, everything fell apart as soon as he came into contact with Hannibal Lector… shocking.
His wife divorced him, following the events of the cliff dive and everything with the Red Dragon. He understood and mutually respected her wishes, wishing her well. All of his items are back in that horrible house in Wolf Trap, Virginia. His dogs and all items were lazily packed up in that house, courtesy of Jack Crawford. He shakily breathes in and out, listening to the beeping of the machine.
A knock sounds within the room and the figure steps in. Before him is Margot Verger. He quirks an eyebrow as the clicks of her heels surround the room. She stops at the end of his bed holding a bouquet of flowers, a “GET WELL!” note stuck between them.
“Margot” he roughly coughs out.
“Will Graham” she formally greets.
“What… what do you want…” he asks harshly.
She raises her eyebrows as she warily steps to his bedside table. She gently sets the flowers down and looks at Will in his sad, solemn eyes.
“How… how are you doing Will?” she asks in a monotone tone.
“What do you think?” he practically snarls.
She steps away from him without a word. Returning back to her place at the end of his bed.
“It was just a question Will, no need to be rude” she says.
“No need for you to be here, but yet… here you are” he says in a sassy tone.
She sighs and grabs the end of his bed with one hand.
“Will…” she says.
“What?” he interrupts.
She sighs in an annoyed tone and sets a serious tone immediately after.
“Will, listen to me please.”
“Why?”
“Because my dead brother should be wearing your face right now but it is because of Alana and I that you aren’t dead and faceless.”
“I thought that was because of Dr. Lector” he spits refusing to be silenced.
“We set him free” she snaps back.
He quiets for a moment and sighs deeply.
“What… what do you want Margot?” he asks in a tired tone.
She swallows and leans back up in a proper stance.
“Leave.”
“I’m sorry?” he asks, confusion settling in.
“You should leave… leave this city… this state… this job” she replies, her usual proper aura slightly leaving her tone.
Will remains silent, not knowing what to say. Shock enters his system when he watches the Margot verger grab the end of his bed with both hands, leaning forward.
“Grab your shit and leave forever, get the fuck out of here.”
He stares at her like she grew another head. Did Margot verger just… cuss? Use foul language?
“Wha-what? Where do I go? What do I do-“
She rudely interrupts Will as she stands up again. She regains her formal aura once more. She sighs and looks directly into his eyes.
“There is a long abandoned Verger estate, a ranch, in the state of Montana. The house and everything on the land was built by my grandfather. All of it is in pristine condition, no environmental nor man made damages to anything on the property” she pauses and continues, “it is yours to own”.
Will continues to stare at her like another head has grown on her shoulder. He doesn’t say a word for a solid minute. She patiently waits to hear what he has to say.
“I-… I can’t-”
“Too bad” she interrupts again before she can say another word he interrupts her.
“No, I’m not taking it-“
“Good think I’m not asking… I’m telling you, it’s yours Will Graham” she says, a confident tone in her voice. The way she spoke told Will that there was no changing her mind. One thing he could admire about Margot Verger, once she decided on something that’s that. There was no changing her mind or altering her answer to the topic.
She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a keychain. Upon this keychain was a series of keys with different labels on them. She lightly tosses them onto his bed, just at the end of his feet. An area he won’t be able to reach without help.
She takes calculated steps towards the door of the room. She twists the knob and slightly opens the door. She pauses and looks back at Will.
“The ranch resides in Silveroak, Montana. There is an old, dirt road that winds up through the trees and over a moat. Once you’re on the property you’ll see the main house atop a hill. Can’t miss the entrance or the town” she describes.
With that she leaves without another word.
Will lays on his bed in shock, he glances down at the keys and back up at the door. A knock sounds in the room and his nurse enters. He returns to his grumpy attitude as he lays back on the bed.
“Oh! Did that nice lady leave her keys behind?” she asks grabbing them from the bed.
“No… they’re mine” he grumbles.
“Ah, ok then, I’ll set them here for you Mr. Will” she says placing them beside his flowers Margot left for him.
“Thank you” he says as she tends to his needs.
***
“Alright Mr. Will Graham here is all of your items back and a cab is outside waiting for you!” the nurse cheerfully says.
Will looks at her with a blank and dead stare. He glances at his items on the counter. He reaches and grabs them, sliding them across the counter in a heavy manner. He shoves them into his coat’s pocket in a disgruntled way. He sighs through his nose and mumbles out a thank you.
He scribbles out his signature onto the release papers in front of him. He grips his cane painfully tight and limps his way to the elevator. As he stands in the elevator he looks at his reflection in the shiny metal. He currently wore a pair of jeans, a bland long-sleeve shirt and jacket with his black coat over the outfit. Along with a pair of black boots. With a ding he exits the elevator and eventually exits the hospital. He sees the cab waiting for him out front.
He sighs as steps into the cab, placing the cane beside him. He leans back into the uncomfortable seats as he prepares himself for the hour long drive to his farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. He refuses to converse with the driver, which the man seemed just fine with that.
As he sat in the cab he looks out his window in a solemn manner. He internally sighs as he grows resentment towards his so called “friends”. More like acquaintances at this point. They couldn’t even find the decency to pick him up and drive him home.
He allows his mind to wander as the city slowly starts to shift to straggling neighborhoods and homes to lonesome trees and farmland.
***
Will paid the man for the trouble of driving him home and looks at his dark house as the man drove away. The snowflakes feel from the sky in a graceful manner on this dark and haunting house. The lights were off and appeared ghostly from the lack of life within the house.
He stood there for a few more seconds staring until the biting wind nipped his skin painfully. He shakily steps towards his house, his cane sinking into the fresh snow. He fumbles with his keys as he opens the door, creaking as it opens.
For what feels like the first time in months a smile spreads across his solemn features.
“My boys and girl!” he exclaims.
The dogs bark happily as they rush him. He falls to the ground roughly, his cane clattering onto the wood porch. He doesn’t grow hatred at his dogs excitement, he instead laughs and giggles as their wet noses tickle his skin.
“Guys… guys!” he exclaims as they dive under his arms and cuddle up to the man, their tags wagging in the air. Buster clammers onto his lap and curls up, making himself at home in his lap as Winston lays his head on Will’s shoulder.
Will grows silent for a minute as he pets them with a soft smile on his face. He frowns slightly as he runs his bare hand across their soft fur. He leans down and hugs the closest dog to him. He feels something swelling within his chest, something he once knew in his past but he can’t quite place the emotion now. He shakes that feeling away as he buries it and smothers his face into the dog’s fur.
He lifts his head slightly and breathes in the fresh and cool air. A dog runs up and bumps his head against Will’s. Will smiles and mumbles out, “I missed you guys too”, his voice weary after everything he has experienced.
After a few more moments of sitting on the porch the chilly weather started getting to him. He stands and ushers the dogs inside. The door slams shut behind him as he fully looks around the house he once called home.
There was no furniture in sight, not even a chair, or even the dogs’ beds. He glances around and notices a tower of cardboard boxes. He walks to them and notice several things. One being a note with a pair of keys set atop it. He grabs the note and before reading it sees that the boxes are nicely packaged… strange, the people that gathered his items surely didn’t package them this nicely.
He trails his eyes to the note and tries to focus his eyes on the note but the words blurred under his gaze. He reaches into his pocket and grabs his glasses. He places them on his nose and pushes them up, the words cleared instantly and they read…
Dear Will
I apologize for not picking you up from the hospital and bringing you back to Wolftrap myself. I figured it was best for you to take a cab and not have contact with me, for now. I returned the dogs here as soon as I found out you were to be released from the hospital (Don’t worry, I fed them with the homemade food you give them, I memorized the recipe from you when you were in y’know… that place). Just so you know I will come visit in a few days, to check up on you… Anyway, those keys atop this note are for the van in your barn. Inside that van is a new phone with a brand new phone number under the name William Whitlock. Accompanying that is a wallet with a fresh fake ID with that name, the address being the ranch in Silveroak, Montana. There is a credit card, debit card, and a large amount of cash in there as well all under your new name. There is an address for the ranch that can be inputted into the GPS on your new phone. There should be enough space for all your belongings and the dogs. We repacked most of your items and really compacted them to create more space in the van. I wish you the best of luck Will, be careful and goodluck.
Alana Bloom
Will folds the note up and pockets it in his coat. He looks at his dogs, then the boxes, then the keys atop the boxes. He snatches the keys and heads to the front door. The dogs try to follow but he whistles at them.
“Stay guys, I’ll be right back I promise” he says exiting the house.
He relies heavily on his cane as he limps his way to his barn. He shakily slides the door open. He heavily breathes as he looks around the dark barn. He takes small steps into the darkness, looking for the van. He eventually finds it by placing his hand on the car. He trails his way to the driver side and unlocks the door, all in the darkness. Once the door opens his pupils contract at the bright light. He looks away and holds his hand up to shield his eyes from the warm light.
As his eyes focus he notices the phone, wallet, and instructions on the driver seat. He grabs the phone and it automatically turns on. There was a full battery along with a few apps on the homescreen. He closes the phone and places it in his back pocket. He places the items on the passenger seat where a charger for the phone lays.
He hobbles back to the barn door where he, with great struggle, fully opens the doors to pull the van out. As he limps back to the driver side of the car where he seats himself and start the van. The engine roars to life as the gas meter dial tilts to the full symbol. He looks behind him as he shifts the gears and reverses out of the barn.
He drives the van towards the front porch of his house. He leaves it on to heat up the back of the car considering it was ice cold. He grabs his cane from the passenger seat and hobbles his way to the back. He now can see the van more clearly.
It was a sleek black sprinter van, the paint not peeling and looking fresh. He limps his way to the back where he swings open the doors to reveal all the backseats were taken out. There was blankets and his dog beds laying on the floor of the van. He notices a steel gate a ¼ of the way in that reaches to the ceiling. He realizes that’s for his boxes so they don’t fly everywhere. He leaves the doors open in the back as he also notices a sliding door on the driver’s side of the van.
After examining everything for a moment and nodding his head to seemingly no one he started the excruciating job of moving the boxes to the van.
As he grips his cane, his knuckles are turning white from the amount of walking he is doing. As he reopens the door to his house he feels a sharp pain in his hip. He cries out and almost falls if it weren’t for Winston bolting forward and stopping his rough fall. Winston helps him down easily as he lays against the wall and heavily breathes.
The nurses did say the rest for a at least a week once arriving at home. Considering he shattered his femur and cracked his hip bone from the cliff dive. It was miraculous they were able to repair his femur. He also suffered from a severe pulled muscle in his lower back region. The entire bottom half of his body was on fire as he groans in pain. The nurses didn’t even give him medication for his recovering wounds.
Winston nervously wags his tail as he sniffs Will. Will glances up at his dog and forces a smile on his face as he pats his head.
“It’s ok buddy, I’m ok-“ he sharply breathes in from a sudden stab of pain, he slowly exhales and chuckles, “See? I’m fineeeee” he lies as he tries to stand once more.
Winston holds him down and refuses to allow him up again.
Will sighs and pats his back, “ok Winston… I’ll stay here”.
After a few minutes Winston finally allows Will to stand on his own. Will grabs his cane and starts this horrible job.
The dogs play outside with one another in the snow as their dad packed up the van. He balanced the cane in between the creases of his elbows. Held upon his forearms was a large, heavy box. He took small, very shaky yet calculated steps. Sweat pools on his forehead as beads slowly drip down to his cheeks. The pain in his legs was horrid, it feels as if knives were sinking into his sides and legs. He heavily breathes as he slams the box into the backside of the van.
“This is going to be a bitch” he mutters.
After a few excruciating and painfully horrid three hours, he finally had the van packed up. He currently laid in the snow, trying to soothe his aching bones and muscles. His dogs surrounded him as they checked on him.
“I’m… fine… guys…” he says through labored breaths.
He closes his eyes, deeply breathing in the sharp air around him. As he laid in the snow something strange happened, something that hasn’t happened since the Red Dragon. A golden dial swung before his vision. He freezes as it swings back the other direction. Suddenly around him the scene changes, the van and his dogs disappear. He leans up onto his elbows as he looks around. The scene continues to change and warp in front of him.
Before him memories flash, except what is unique about these memories they are going backwards in time. Starting at Hannibal’s arrest all the way to the first time Hannibal visited him at his household. He fully sits up and doesn’t move. He sits in the snow watching the scenes and memories unfold, in his perspective. The lines blur as he watches Hannibal perform horrible acts upon him when he slept, along with other things as well. He sharply inhales as he watches the scenes unfold. He scoffs and looks away, when he looks back a stag stood before him. He watches as this creature takes cautious steps towards him. He watches as the beautiful animal examines him, circling him. The sweet beast sniffs his coat from behind before plunging its great antlers into his stomach, lifting him into the air.
He gasps in pain, let out a loud and pained whimper. He is suspended in the air as he is fully impaled by the sharp antlers, sinking down slowly. He lets out gurgled noises of pain as blood gushes from his wounds and down onto the head of the stag. It stares at him unblinking, turning and walking into his house. He tries to fight against, feeling completely helpless being suspended in the biting air. The stag walks into the main room of the house. It stands there, looking up at him as he bleeds profusely.
As Will frantically looks around he sees in the distance, walking out from the forest was that disgusting creature. The being that haunted his every waking moment. The hunt that pursued between the two of them. This pitch black, monster – humanoid figure with its talon claws extending where its fingers should be. A blank white stare in it’s eyes. Large, black stag horns extending from either side of it’s humanoid head. They dripped red with blood, staining the white snow. It’s anorexic body was covered by a suit. It wore a white, long-sleeve, collared button-up with a dark tan, V-neck sweater. Over these two shirts was a wheat color coat that seemed to be nicely tailored. It wore light grey dress pants and black dress shoes. Will’s eyes widen as the figure steps closer recognizing the outfit. That’s what Hannibal wore when they first met, all those years ago in Jack Crawford’s office. If only he could’ve prevented that. Stopped everything or… maybe fixed what happened.
The monster… the nightmare stag, steps into the room. It continues its pace as it stops before the animal stag looking down at the beautiful creature with it’s humanoid features. It places it’s claws around the beast’s neck and rips its head clean off, with Will still on its head.
He screams out in pain as his back hits the forehead of the dead animal. The creature held the animal’s head in it’s hands. He turned and walked towards the fireplace, every step he took the fur and meat from the animal slipped off its skull. Making the room a crime scene with the blood pooling at it’s feet as the dead stag’s body was limp on the floor.
Will tried grabbing at the creature that held him, with raspy breathing he struggles to survive. He grips the humanoid stag’s antlers trying to push himself off the animal stag’s skull.
“Pl-please” he begs tears prickling his eyes from the pain. Blood pooled in the back of his throat and dripped out of his mouth in a continuous motion. Staining his white teeth, a deep shade of red. The smell of metal and copper filled his senses making him sick to the stomach, the very stomach with several bones puncturing it.
The creature lifts Will above his head and slams the skull into the wall. Will cries out as the stag skull sticks to the brick wall above the fireplace. The branches of the main antlers pierced his chest, making his heart beat fiercely at the loss of blood. He pukes up some blood that spills down his front side and onto the floor. The creature quickly forces Will’s hands to rest atop the top part of the antlers. The creature steps back to admire his work, making Will sick.
Will hung on the stag antlers like Marissa Schurr all those years ago in the Hobbs cabin. He shakily looks at the creature as his eyes start to blur. His glasses slip of his face and clatter into the blood pooling beneath him. He breathes through rasps, not being able to move. As he blinks the creature before him warped, his body will staying the shape and color except it’s face warping into Hannibal’s features.
It steps closer as it cups his cheek, “there… now I’ll always know where you are… Will Graham” Hannibal Lector’s voice rings around him as his last breath exits his lungs.
Will gasps in a hoarse way. He is laying down in the snow, his dogs surrounding him. He shoots up and upwards to a standing position, kicking snow as he does. His head grows dizzy from his sudden movements. He takes a few steps before losing his balance and crashing into the van, leaning against it for support. His eyes were glassy as his surroundings blurred around him. His breathing fast and unsteady, creating irregular patterns in his heartbeat.
His grasp slips from the van as he slams his hands into the cold snow. He grips the snow for his life in his fists. He grabs these fistfuls of snow and rubs the cold ice onto his face. The sting of the coldness and the distant barks and distant feeling of fur slowly brought him back from his panicked state. He gulps roughly, noticing there was no copper taste nor scent taking over his senses. As he kneeled on his knees and hands he shakily reaches to his stomach and chest, feeling no antlers there.
He deeply breathes in and out before deeply sighing. He pushes his hands off the ground and sits in the snow on his butt. His back laid against the van as he held his chin up and kept his hands over his head. He opens his lungs as he gasps for air. His dogs sit and stand around him waiting for him to regain his sense, staring in fear and worry. He hisses in pain as he places his fingers over his closed eyes and violently rub them. He pinches his nose and let his hand fall heavily onto his lap. He stares at the ground for a moment before shakily looking back up at the house. He deeply breathes in and then out. He roughly swallows the lump in his throat as he looks out at the woods.
“Winston, can you fetch my cane” he wearily asks.
Winston instantly runs off and grabs his cane. He prances back over with a wagging tail, gently laying the cane before him.
His dark, hickory wood cane lays before him, glinting in the moonlight. It’s flat, curved handle was attached by a gold band to the rest of the cane, giving it a sense of dignity.
“Thank you buddy you’re such a good boy Winston” Will coos gruffly, patting his back.
Will looks back at the house and then the van behind him. He balls his hands into fists on his lap, his body slightly shaking.
“Lets get the fuck out of here guys…” he spits, grabbing the cane and with much difficulty standing up.
He hisses in pain as he slides the side door open. The car was nice and toasty inside from running for a while, so the dogs happily jump into the warm vehicle with no trouble. As they all settle in he does a headcount and nods his head. He grabs the keys from the ignition and then shuts their side door. He locks the door and heads towards the back doors. He rummages through his gun cases before pulling out his Beretta 92FS Inox and reloading it. He slams the back doors and locks those as well. He returns to the drivers side of his van and restarts the engine.
He deeply breathes in and then out, limping his way to the house to check he has everything. He regretfully enters the room and looks around. He lifts his pistol upward as he leads with the gun as he examines the room. He makes it a point to avoid the fireplace, as he makes sure everything is packed up. After confirming he was good to leave he spares a glance at the fireplace. His heart stops and his eyes widen beneath his glasses as he sees his body hanging limply from a stag skull. He sharply inhales as he swings outside and slams the door shut. He locks the door and leaves the keys in the knob as he practically runs to the van. He hops in and throws his cane to the passenger side. He slams his door shut and locks it, he buckles his seatbelt as he looks up at the dark house.
He pauses a moment as he stares at the building, sadness filling up in his soul. A place he once considered home, a safe haven from the world. It stood before him so cold and unwelcoming, almost and honestly driving him away. His heart pangs with grief as he stares for a moment, feeling a mix of emotions as he dwells in the past.
The amount of chaos and death and darkness that have taken place in this house, it’s too much to bear. It’s no longer the home he once knew, he is no longer the person he once knew. Will Graham doesn’t have the same ring to it like it used to… not before Hannibal.
He shakily grabs the gearshift and switches to drive. As he pulls away from his old life he looks into his rearview mirror to take once last glance at his old life. His old self, his once safe home. His eyes widen as the creature that haunted his dreams stands in the driveway wearing the outfit Hannibal wore the night they dove to their “deaths” on that cliff.
He sucks a breath between his teeth before focusing on the road, refusing to glance back at that haunted and evil place.
He pulls out onto the main road as the snow slows, almost stopping. The wheels glide across the streets in the darkness as the clouds disperse in the sky to reveal gorgeous stars above.
As Will drove in silence he felt a feeling bubble within him. Something he hasn’t felt nor understood in years…
Hope
He felt hope… hope for his dogs, himself, and his livelihood.
…
It’ll be ok… eventually.
Will was liking that thought.