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The room around Will was shockingly bright, and a faint beeping in his left ear reminded him of Abigail's room. He slowly opened his eyes, adjusting to the light, and his gaze was immediately drawn to the tubes in his arms. He was in a thin hospital gown that he didn't remember changing into.
Will blinked, and when he remembered what had brought him here he felt his blood turn to ice inside his veins. He was sure his heart had stopped. He felt nothing but fear.
He'd broken his silence. He'd broken the deal.
He flinched at the sound of the door opening, but it was only Jack. He raised his brows.
"Well, look who's up." Jack came to sit in a chair by the bed. "What happened back there?"
"Jack, I have no idea," Will blurted, speaking as fast as he could. "I got so lost, and I wasn't myself anymore. I didn't know who I was until later. I was the in the killer's mind—"
     "Will, I've never seen you behave like that before. In all the times I've seen you work, you've never gotten lost. You were malnourished and dehydrated." Jack pointed to the IV in Will's arm. "I send you to a therapist and you get even worse?"
     "I swear, I didn't mean to. It was terrifying. You kept saying my name, but I didn't know who Will was at all." Will sighed. "Everyone was stressing me out."
     "I'm aware that one of the officers on scene slapped you. He's been reprimanded— he shouldn't have aggravated you. But that still doesn't mean that you have the right to act like that."
     "But—"
     "You could have stayed quiet. Waited to come to your senses. You've done this plenty of times before, Will. And now you've made some really horrid accusations towards Doctor Lecter." Will hated the condescending look on Jack's face. He had no idea of the truth.
     "Hannibal was in the room with me. I don't think that helped. Normally I'm alone."
     "Hannibal is very upset. You need to talk to him."
     Will felt a pit in his stomach. "He's angry?"
     "No, actually. He's worried about you. Hasn't left the whole time you've been here."
     Waiting for me to get up so he can kill me, Will thought. He couldn't put it off for long; Hannibal would know he was awake eventually. "I..I'll talk to him," he agreed, bowing his head. Jack left him to his worries.
     Despite the terror overtaking him, he felt a instinctual rush of comfort at the sight of Hannibal in the doorway. Relief flashed across Hannibal's face.
     "Will. I'm glad to see you're awake."
     Will's words caught in his throat. He coughed, too afraid to speak.
"Before you say anything," Hannibal sat down, "just know you're not too far from home. Mrs. Katz left a few minutes ago to go feed your dogs."
Will couldn't help but smile. "Did she really?"
"She wouldn't stop bragging that she was the first person you recognized. She said she wanted to help." He smirked. "I like her."
"She's great. Always been good to me."
There was an uncomfortable silence, which wasn't what either of them were used to. Normally they would talk and talk. Will took a deep breath.
"Hannibal—"
"I'm not angry with you, Will. I'll start with that."
The words surprised him. "You're..but I broke the deal. I broke my silence, didn't I?"
"I asked you to keep quiet about my actions, not about my identity. You told everyone I was the Devil, sure, but you never told the truth about my hobbies."
     "So it's not broken?"
"No. Besides, this may sound harsh, but.." he smirked. "No one believes you."
     Will stared at him blankly, then let out a large sigh of relief. He bent over, resting his elbows on his knees. Hannibal chuckled.
     "Were you that worried?"
     "Yes. Jesus Christ." Will covered his face. "Hannibal, I thought you were going to hurt me."
     "Of course not." Hannibal's tone hardened. "I wouldn't. Even if you had said something incriminating, it wouldn't have been intentional." He felt a hand on his shoulder. "You were somewhere else entirely. It was horrifying."
     "I was completely lost. I didn't know my name."
     "Talk to me."
     "I'm scared," Will replied, so softly that he wondered if Hannibal even heard. Judging by the way Hannibal squeezed his shoulder, he did. "That's never happened to me before."
     Hannibal moved closer, the two of them joining heads like they were sharing a vital secret. "What did you see, Will?"
     "It was normal at first. I was the killer, and I saw how sinful my victims were. I made them angels so I could save them from their sin, and in return they would pray for me." Will shook his head, noticing how he was using the first person. "He's sick. Something's wrong with him, and he's hoping the angels will pray for him. Make him better."
     "So you were made aware of their sins?"
     "Mhm."
     "And when you looked at me, ruler of the literal Land of Sin.."
     "I couldn't comprehend it, Hannibal." Will's eyes were wide, haunted. He continued to speak in a whisper. "I saw everything. I heard the screaming. Billions of years of sin, all in one moment. I saw you.."
     "You saw me killing humans."
     "You're eating them." It wasn't a question.
     "Yes."
     Will flinched, taking in a sharp breath. "Oh, God."
     "Will." Hannibal took his hand. "They're already dead. Does it really matter in the end?"
     "Why? What's the point?"
     "Food on earth doesn't satiate me." He said this as if it was completely normal. Will was deeply unsettled, the feeling spreading through him. "In Hell, I feast on souls. Here, I must feast on bodies."
     "Jack's been to dinner at your house. Doctor Bloom has—"
     "You think I'd waste valuable meat on some humans? Absolutely not. Especially humans who wouldn't appreciate it." The disdain in his voice was startling; he was normally so calm. He'd never spoken with such disgust. "It's all for me."
     "It's the only thing that works?"
     "Yes. Otherwise I cannot muster the energy to continue."
     Will remained silent for a long time, contemplating. All he heard was the sound of their breathing, synchronized and intense. He tried so hard to find the revulsion in him, to reach his empathetic mind and find hatred towards Hannibal's evil actions. The empathy part came easily; however, all he felt was compassion for Hannibal, not his victims. In the motel room, when he had visions of Hannibal's crimes, there had been a split second of euphoria and adrenaline. He'd been in Hannibal's position, not the victims'.
     Even his reaction to the cannibalism was more severe than what he'd actually felt. The reality of it faded with every passing second. He knew how he should feel, but really, he just couldn't bring himself to care. He was too focused on what he wanted: catching the Shrike. If anyone knew that, they'd shun him— just like anyone would shun Hannibal if they knew the truth. They were both hiding.
     "We both have deep-rooted secrets," Will finally said. "I'll keep yours."
     "And I'll keep yours."
     The two shared a nod. There was no need for apologies— the unspoken truce connected them like a chain. They were too close to break apart now, not over something so small. They knew they were okay.
     "Now," Hannibal said, "you had some very interesting insights during your vision." He finally leaned back, breaking the imaginary bond between the two. "Let's talk about this angel maker."

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