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.

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[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. ]