Misha William Lecter Graham.
It really was a rather brilliant name, for a rather brilliant boy. He'd been born barely three months after Hannibal and Will's wedding, the surrogate mother a slightly distant relative of Will's. He'd started talking at barely a year, even if only to be able to point to things and name them. However at two years old he could form coherent sentences, read childrens books. He really was smart- though part of that might have been Hannibal's coaching- Hannibal read to him from complicated psychology and history books. He taught him English for a month before he started speaking to him in other languages, insisting to Will it would make him better equipped to learn other languages.
He was quite right. By the time Misha was five and ready to start kindergarden, he knew the alphabet and his numbers in seven languages, and was more or less able to form sentences in all of them. Hannibal was rather pleased with himself.
Will, however, was fairly worried. He knew Misha hadn't gotten his empathy, but whether he had gotten his sociopathic tendencies was yet undecided. He seemed all too similar to Hannibal for that, but Misha hadn't been around other children much for his first five years of his life- he spent all his time in the care of people like Hannibal and Will, Alana Bloom, Team Sassy Science, Bedelia and Jack, which made him brilliant, but not exactly normal.
So this story truly starts when Misha is around five, and ready to start kindergarten.
~
"Misha!" Hannibal called, his voice ringing throughout the house. The young boy raced downstairs, eager to begin school.
"Yes father?" Misha replied, skidding to a stop in front of Hannibal and Will. He looked absolutely adorable- and vaguely like a mini Hannibal. His golden hair was neatly cropped, just barely brushing his pale forehead. His bright hazel eyes scanned his parents- twinkling with a light that would seem almost cunning, were he not five years old. His crisp, collared white shirt was was a stark in appearance to the gray, blue, and black tie he was wearing, encased in a black vest.
"Ready for school?" Will asked as Hannibal picked up Misha to set him on a stool to serve him breakfast. Misha nodded before taking a massive gulp of orange juice. Will grinned and sat down next to his son. "Good. I'll pick you up after- you don't mind coming to work with me, right?"
Misha shook his head. After swallowing a bite of omelette, he replied, "of course not Dad. I love going to to work with you." He had a slight lilt to his voice, a slight, English accent that gave away one of his parents was indeed not from the states.
After finishing his breakfast and packing his backpack, Misha was driven to the elementary school by Hannibal. It was a mere ten minute drive, and soon enough, Hannibal was wishing his son a good first day. "Tell me all about it when I see you tonight," Hannibal said, arching an eyebrow.
Misha nodded enthusastically. "Of course I will father," he promised, leaning over to give Hannibal a hug. "Goodbye father!" he exclaimed before getting out of the car, waving once last time before he turned around and raced into the school.
It wasn't a huge elementary school at all- housed grades 1-4 and kindergartners. Most kids were being brought in by their parents, so Misha simply found his way by following the rest of the herd. By the time he had gotten into the classroom, met the teacher (a Mrs. Patricia Samuels), and signed himself in, Misha found himself having to choose a table. He looked around, glancing at all the children before choosing a seat in the front- no one was yet at this table, and even as the classroom seemed to fill in more, only one boy sat down at the four person table. He didn't seem of any interest to Misha- he didn't seem all too smart or anything of the sort, he just seemed shy. Misha didn't have any time to follow up on that thought since Mrs. Samuels bounded to the front of the room.
