week one - train to the afterlife (u wish hannibal)

[sating]

[ The last thing Hannibal remembers is falling.

There's a bit more than that, naturally, but that's the overwhelming part of it. There's blood in taste, smell, and sight, and perhaps that should be more prominent, but it's not. Instead, it's the warmth of an embrace in the cold wind coming from the ocean. A moment before they had fallen, he had felt Will's weight shift, and Hannibal certainly could have stopped it. But in truth, he hadn't wanted to.

He'd always been enchanted with how he might meet his end in the way that he was enchanted by particularly good music or art. It sparked his imagination, because there were many ends he could picture, but none were certain. He didn't desire death, of course, since living was far more fun, but he'd always hoped that when he did die, it would be in some elegant, grandiose way. Being dragged off a cliff into the blood black sea below was perfect for that idea he had in his head.

What came after was something he had never concerned himself nearly as much with, though. It was perfectly obvious to him, because no matter the story or theology, his own fate in that respect was fairly certain if there was anything at all. He wakes before Will and peers around curiously, but his lips only pull up into a faint smile. A train is a bit quaint and unexpected in terms of an afterlife, all that said. Because what else could it be? He would accept that just as easily as a vision that comes from the final firings of his neurons. Both may as well be true.

When Will stirs, Hannibal's attention is pulled away from the setting and to the man sitting across from him instead. Hannibal crosses one leg over the other, and they sit in a mirror of a scene that feels almost old by now. With the same cool clarity as always, Hannibal speaks when he knows Will will be awake enough to hear him. ]

Hello, Will.

Comments

[sweats]

[ There is a feeling that comes when you make an important decision. The post-choice relief that no matter if your choice was good or bad, it's made and there is nothing you can do about it. When Will pulled them both off the edge of the cliff, he was filled with that relief as his arms clutched tightly to Hannibal and his eyes closed against the wind. They would either live or they would die but regardless, they would be together. Whatever happened prior to this moment was irrelevant. Three people would die on that cliff and it would be up to fate if two of those people were reborn in the aftermath.

Of course, Will wasn't expecting this.

When he wakes, it's not with the same ease Hannibal woke up with. His heart is still pounding at the adrenaline and he jerks upright, eyes blinking open and staring wide eyed at Hannibal. He tries to think -- did he miss something? Why doesn't he remember anything? What did Hannibal do? But then his breathing calms and he scrubs his hands over his face, looking at the dirt they speed by outside. It makes him feel a little queasy, honestly. ]

Am I dead?

[ A singular question because with the sudden twist of reality, there is no way that the Hannibal in front of him can be real at all. He assumes, with an added layer of heartache, that the Hannibal in front of him must be a hallucination. ]

[sating]

[ Hannibal watches without so much as a falter in his smile. His eyes flicker to Will's face first, but then to every other place he had watched Francis land a blow. It's curious, because though he hadn't checked yet, he can feel a dull pain in his own stomach, but no worse than if he had been punched. Did the afterlife heal wounds? Or perhaps take the edge off, so to speak. It's a bit ironic, considering where he personally thinks this train is heading, if anywhere at all, but he is a fan of dramatic irony. ]

Perhaps so. But if you're dead, then I am as well.

[ It's the Hannibal equivalent of a kanyeshrug, considering how unbothered he sounds by the idea. He pauses like he's waiting for Will to add something else, but ends up looking to the train's interior. ]

Regardless, a ghost train is not what I would have expected. It seems... [ He pauses, as if choosing his word carefully, but he looks back to will. ] Peaceful.

[sweats]

[ There's a lot to process here. He's sure that this is a hallucination -- it would make most sense to him above anything else. Will's reality has never been a stable thing so if Hannibal and him died when they hit the Atlantic, this sort of situation isn't ... strange. But it still feels off to Will.

Of course, Hannibal is implying it's an afterlife instead and Will isn't sure how to feel about that. He gives Hannibal a long look, trying to decide if he wants to agree with it or not. Are they dead? Is this a "ghost train"? Why is it so --

Will looks around then, to the faces in the other seats and his expression pulls tight before he settles back into his seat, arms over his chest and eyes fixed on Hannibal's knee.

Peaceful is a hell of a word, he thinks. ]

Yet, I don't feel at peace. [ . . . ] Do you remember dying?

[sating]

[ If only it were so sweet and easy :) ]

[ By comparison, Hannibal hasn't paid the rest of the car any mind yet. He will, in time. But for now, his focus is singular. Once they both come to some kind of conclusion about what this is, he could consider the others. Or maybe he never will. It's difficult to say just how long this trip may take.

He considers the question and closes his eyes briefly as he recalls more of the fall. It doesn't take long, and for most, that pause could go without notice, but the fact that Hannibal pauses at all is almost answer enough. His eyes open again, and his head shifts to the side lightly. It's as much of a shake of the head as Hannibal tends to give. ]

No. I remember falling. The sensation of seconds being drawn out into minutes as you await the inevitable. But I do not remember when it comes. Only a continuation of the fall until I land comfortably, here.

[sweats]

[ fuck off!!! ]

[ Will wonders then if he should feel guilt. It's him who sent them over the edge, it's him who has killed them if they both are in fact, dead. It was even him who brought the Dragon to Hannibal. He doesn't feel guilt though, sees their tip over the edge as an inevitable event so at Hannibal's answer, he only gives a nod.

He wishes then, that he remembered dying. He feels cheated in not having it, as if the memory was something he was owed. ]

With me. This means we're still together if this is an afterlife. Conjoined even in death.

[ Still, he continues to think and his statement isn't done yet so he adds on after -- ]

Unless you're just a really cruel hallucination of mine.

[sating]

It seems appropriate.

[ That part of Hannibal's response is immediate, but the rest comes with a slight pause as he looks to the window instead. It's not very long, only as much time as it takes for Hannibal to divert his attention, but when he speaks again, it's with a softer smile. ]

Our paths—our fates—they have gotten so thoroughly tangled that I cannot imagine them being pulled apart. Each time we meet, a thread of the knot is tugged tighter. Even if we were to try and pry it apart, we could not, despite having laid every twist ourselves. A Gordian knot. So we will only part when it is cut in half.

[ He has to wax poetic here a little bit, but at least Will is used to this. He looks back to Will to address the rest, though there's wryness in his smile instead. ]

Have I been in your hallucinations before?

[ Because he's an ass, he doesn't even confirm or deny whether he is one or not. ]

[sweats]

[ That brings a smile to Will's face because he can't help but think of his boats, his fishing. He thinks of the many different types of knots he's intimately familiar with, how to tie and untie them all. He thinks of those times where he's grown stuck, having rushed the job too quickly that he's had to cut his lines apart if only to save the reel. ]

And death isn't cutting it in half? Most people would think so.

[ He wants to say more, to give back to Hannibal in return, to really give himself to this conversation -- but instead of the ease Hannibal feels at being on this train, Will can't help but sit and expect the worse. He imagines something must happen soon, something is going to push this all into making a bit more sense. He looks out the window then, squinting and feeling surprise hit him as he spots a town in the distance.

He wonders if he should mention it to Hannibal but instead looks to him at the question, eyes meeting for a moment. ]

You have. Well-characterized enough for me to question the reality of it enough times. I wouldn't be surprised if this was the case again.

[sating]

And yet, neither of us fits into the box of "most people." Perhaps when the train stops, our knot will be severed. Or the threads may be pulled even tighter.

[ Hannibal doesn't seem to mind either outcome from his tone. Both suit him well enough, because either way, it still means the two of them together. It's all Hannibal would hope for at this point, though it's all he's been hoping for in the past few years. Everything else in between is little more than set decoration to that.

He watches Will idly, but he doesn't glance to the window to see what's caught his attention. Hannibal instead just smiles, and with Will's response, the corners of his eyes pull up a little into more of a smile. ]

Then I'm quite flattered. But would it particularly matter if that was the case? For all intents and purposes, I am here now.

[sweats]

[ He'd rather not be severed, is the idle thought that pops into Will's head in response to that. After all this work he's put into keeping Hannibal and him together -- he would prefer to be wrapped tighter. He's also not quite sure how to vocalize that (or if he wants to) so instead his mouth pulls into a wry grin and he gives a huff of amusement.

When Hannibal gives him that assessment though, that it doesn't mean anything if he's real or not -- the point stands that he's there, Will has to agree. It's true, he's glad to have Hannibal any way he could get him especially after their current years of separation but... But isn't that just another way of Will being alone again? He'd really, really like not to be alone again.

So, in the end he decides to do this -- he gets up. The train still rattles along and everyone else seems wrapped up in their own confusion, so he gets up and crosses the small space between them so he can sit next to Hannibal. He acknowledges this as being a break in pattern of a move, that the way they were sat was something so intimately familiar for them both. But it's also not what he wants for this, if they are bound so tightly now. He doesn't do more than sit next to him, hands loose in his lap and shoulders pressed together.

If this is a train to Hell or Heaven (though he deeply doubts that), then he will sit with Hannibal as they ride. Even if the man is a projection from his own mind, he will still put the knot tighter regardless. He can see the town growing closer in this distance so he knows this will not last long but at least, it's a showing of where he is with this. ]

It doesn't matter if you're not, but selfishly I'd prefer if you were real. Wherever this train is headed, if I end up there alone -- wouldn't that just make all of this void?

[sating]

[ Hannibal watches as Will stands, and though his expression is light, there's more emotion in his eyes as Will comes to sit next to him. It's the same sort that's appeared a few times since they've met and it's always reserved for their reunions, it seems. From when they'd met face to face once again in Italy and then with a pane of glass between them, it's always the same. Hannibal is happy for Will to be here with him. He looks down to his hands, and his small smile grows a bit more, but it's still calm and peaceful. ]

Then your selfishness was rewarded.

[ It's as much of a confirmation that he is indeed real as Hannibal will give, half because he's an asshole, but also half because the vagueness there is largely to not speak to what it's a reward for. He could be conceding in a small way because Will has come to sit on his side, or it could be a larger reward for something Hannibal and Will hadn't quite had as much time to speak about and enjoy as he would have liked.

Regardless of what this is, they're both free now. ]

I'd thought before, once the matter of the Red Dragon was settled, we would have to go somewhere. Unfortunately, we're both compiling quite a list of places we're not welcome.

[ He glances to his side with a more wry smile ]

I was thinking somewhere warmer. And somewhere where bounty hunting was trickier than it was in Italy.

[sweats]

[ There's a sensation of warmth that runs through him as Hannibal confirms, in the best way Hannibal can, what Will was worrying over. His eyes close for a moment and he lets out a relieved breath before smiling, small and content. Hannibal is real. Whatever's happening is happening but Hannibal is here with him. It's only recently that he realized how off he felt when not sharing the same space as Hannibal. He doesn't want to give that up so quick.

And then Hannibal talks of what he wanted after the Dragon and Will can't help but watch him as he speaks, expression slightly surprised. ]

Someplace warm.

[ It's repeated back, rather dumbly and after a moment Will gets his bearings back. ]

-- Would be nice. Someplace warm. By the sea, maybe. I'm pretty tired of snow, admittedly.

[ And just saying that out loud, with Hannibal, is such a severe break in pattern that it's taking a while for Will to wrap his head around t. At most, he's replying out of instinct, thoughts already come to a complete halt at the change. He's not quite sure how to process it just yet. Unfortunately too, it looks like he won't have much time to really think about it because the train is starting to pull into the station and Will can't help but frown slightly. He'd rather continue talking to Hannibal, understanding what's happening with them. ]

[sating]

As am I. I've lived in cold places for most of my life, but... Now seems as good a time for change as any.

[ The train is slowing to a stop, but they may as well be in their own world. Hannibal doesn't seem to be paying it any mind at all, and his attention is focused on Will instead. Since he's looked at him, Hannibal meets Will's eyes in full for the first time in this conversation. The eye contact gets his smile to warm. ]

Cuba, then. It fits our criteria well enough. And easy enough to get on a boat to travel further south if we decide that it doesn't suit us. Though I've heard that going to Cuba is like traveling back in time. Havana seems especially beautiful.

[sweats]

[ Will can't bring himself to break the eye contact either, so for now Hannibal gets unfiltered eyes gazing right back at him. Will smiles enough after for teeth to show, a slight reddening of his ears as the moment continues. ]

I don't speak any Spanish, but I'm sure I can get by. With you.

[ Which is direct enough to fluster himself a little and he sighs softly, eyes looking away for a moment to where Hannibal's hands sit in his lap. A moment later, Will reaches forward to lace his fingers with one and gives a soft squeeze. ]

I suppose we should --

[ Then the train stops, the whistle blares and the Sheriff calls from outside. Will's focus is taken away and he pulls his hand back, looking out towards the window. There's a small frown on his face as he looks there and then back to Hannibal, finishing his sentence despite being thrown off so sharply. ]

We should see where we are, first.

[sating]

[ The comment about Spanish keeps Hannibal's smile warm and pleased. There wasn't doubt anymore. His suggestion to go to Cuba was made with the full expectation that Will would accept the idea as a whole. He understood the gesture as soon as Will's weight had shifted. Taking them off the cliff was hardly Will's now old desire for revenge. They were escaping. Death was an escape just as much as Cuba.

But he's disarmed by the contact. His mouth falls open slightly as he takes in a quiet breath that's too soft to be a gasp. He's so happy in that moment, because even more than the words, that touch, the intimate intertwining of their fingers like a knot, that makes it real. Whether this was the afterlife or something stranger, it hardly matters.

Yet it doesn't last. It takes Hannibal a moment to recollect himself, though only just a moment. By the time Will turns back to him, the glassy look in his eyes is fading quickly. For the first time, he gives more attention to where they are than who is here with hin. He looks to the window to see the town, then to the people around them that become more than faces in a featureless crowd. ]

I suppose we should.

[ Like others, he stands, and he immediately rebuttons his suit jacket, though he does briefly glance down towards his stomach and then to Will's head. His smile quirks differently, less warm and more playful. ]

How's your head, Will?

[sweats]

[ Hannibal's leaving the train with the rest of them and Will sighs before following him upright. He's still wearing his clothes from the cliff and they're not in the best order so he just frowns and looks at Hannibal with a bemused expression at the question.

He'll follow him off the train, sticking close by to murmur his response in the meantime. ]

Off-center. Like I got water in my nose.

[ Which really is just ironic, he thinks, considering where they were supposed to end up. He wonders if he really did get water in his nose, it would be fitting. Could also just be another hallucination. ]

[sating]

It is a distinct possibility. Or at least, that would make more sense than our train.

[ Hannibal continues to lead the way, at least in a manner of speaking. He follows the crowd more than he leads it, mingling in with everyone else. He's taking stock of the people he sees, and in more ways than one. It's a natural consequence of his diet. He looks at people and often thinks of what part of them may be best on a plate. Though in equal measure, he notices the variety of age, of nationality, everything normal that a good psychiatrist would. Some killers have a problem with this, but for Hannibal, these two halves are never in conflict with each other.

He looks to Will and smiles in a way that reaches to his eyes, but is also very slightly smug and teasing all at once. Because he is an asshole. ]

Should I be asking you to draw a clock for me?

[sweats]

[ Will thinks he should probably be feeling outraged about that but he's settled into this odd sort of peacefulness with Hannibal that instead has him rolling his eyes and very subtly pressing his knuckles into Hannibal's back. He doesn't know what brings him to do the gesture but it felt like the best way to show just how through he was with the comment, but in a friendly manner. ]

The next time you ask me to draw a clock for you, I hope you're prepared to eat it. I think it's fair to say I'll be getting second opinions from now on.

[sating]

[ He breathes out a small, short laugh at Will's response. My, how things have changed, and he's very glad for it. There was a time where Will wanted to kill him for this very question, and now it's distilled to this. He finds both prospects just as pleasing, but of course this is the one he prefers. There's a thrill in tension, but sometimes he too prefers peace. ]

It is. Our relationship is more complicated than simply the doctor and patient by now, so I would encourage it. Letting biases bleed into work is unprofessional.

[ He absolutely didn't miss the fact that his is still first though :) ]

[sweats]

[ Now that they're out in the open, Will is starting to feel a little clammier than he'd like. He doesn't like crowds, for good reason, and this is very much a crowd. It only gets worse as the Sheriff tells them... well, nothing, and Will finds himself wincing a little. ]

Because you've never let that happen before, sure. Jesus, Hannibal.

[ And he wants to stay, he thinks, and continue whatever this is but he's really not liking the pressure in his head and the way the town is staring to swim in front of him a little. So, this is what he does --

He takes Hannibal's hand again, just a loose grasp around his wrist to tug him close so Will can lean in and murmur. ]

Not feeling so hot. Find out what you can, alright? I need to get some air.

[ He lets go after, slipping through the crowd then to find his bearings somewhere quiet -- and empty -- again. This, of course, means going behind the Saloon to puke but, you know. ]