Chapter Text
Hannibal followed Will home that Very Bad Day. He maintained his usual spot beside the young boy but unlike their normal routine where they laughed and Will would tug at the sleeve of his suit, there was only silence for company. It felt like a thick glass wall was separating them and no matter how hard Hannibal knocked or how loud he talked, he could not break through the barrier. Suddenly, Will stiffened and the ghost felt hope soar deep within his chest.
“Will?” Hannibal spoke excitedly as he was unable to conceal his emotions for once. The ghost reached forward expectantly, his hand reaching for the boy’s shoulder. The limb had become oddly transparent and passed through Will’s thick green jacket. Hannibal stared at his gloved fingers now completely engulfed inside the material with only his wrist visible. He found himself quite shocked. He had always been able to touch Will. Always. It was only now that the luxury was gone that he realized how precious it was to him. His heart filled with dread as he slowly withdrew his fingers.
Will was bent over a small, mud covered puppy now, coaxing the animal towards himself. His reaction had not been to Hannibal at all but to the small quivering mess before his feet. Hannibal felt his eyes narrow minutely at the creature, feeling quite embarrassed to be jealous at the pets it was receiving. How Will could feel its licks against his hand and respond to the barks with gentle words of his own. The little dog started shivering in fear, eyes wide and scared, before bolting off as it sensed the supernatural presence behind the rather nice male. A bright animal with superb survival instincts.
Will jumped to his feet and raced after the pathetic creature.
“Will, slow down at once!” Hannibal admonished with disapproval. “You are quite clumsy on your feet and will gravely injure yourself!”
Will never heard the warning. Of course he didn’t. He tripped over a pile of sticks carelessly piled on one resident’s lawn. Will went flying and landed hard on his knees on the paved path beside the debris. The young boy instantly burst into tears, as nine year olds often do, and hugged his knees to his chest. Hannibal knelt beside him, feeling useless and despising the feeling.
“Shh.” Hannibal’s voice was soothing and soft like warm honey. “Will, it is okay. I am right here. I will fix it.”
But those words were empty promises now. Hannibal couldn’t fix it, not anymore. He couldn’t wipe away those tears with his fingers and gather the shaking boy into his arms to rub his back. No longer could he whisper Lithuanian lullabies into his ear until he was giggling and smiling once more.
Will wailed loudly, loud enough for the owners of the house to hear. They peered out of their windows before lowering their shutters. Hannibal made a mental note of the house number for later when he would pay them a visit. Eventually a nearby neighbor, a lovely elderly woman named Susan, hobbled out of her small house. She surveyed the boy’s bloody and torn knee with soft eyes.
“Oh Will.” She told him gently as she helped him stand up. “You really must be more careful.”
Will was still hiccuping on his tears, hastily wiping his face with the sleeve of his jacket. It was all in vain, however, as more came and trickled down his cheeks. Susan urged Will to walk slowly and follow her. Every step made the boy flinch.
“Carry him. He cannot walk when he is in this kind of state.” Hannibal instructed with frustration at not being heard and having to watch Susan inappropriately deal with a wounded child. No, not just any wounded child. His Will. As soon as the words left Hannibal's mouth Will collapsed back onto the ground, his knees stinging.
“Dearie, I’m going to need you to come inside so I can use my First Aid Kit.” Susan spoke, grey hair flying around her face. Will shook his head petulantly at Susan like the stubborn little boy he was. Hannibal had raised him better than that. The ghost tutted his disappointment.
“Please Will.” Susan begged him with exasperation. “I’ll give you anything you want once I put some band-aids on your knees. A lolly pop? Some freshly baked cookies? A toy?”
Will’s tears only worsened at her words.
“Utter nonsense.” Hannibal waved off with a disdainful sniff. “What Will desires is not delicious foods or materialistic items.”
“I want,” Will hiccuped violently, looking up at Susan with big, red pleading eyes, “I want Hannibal.”
The ghost paused, his heart clenching painfully in his chest at the unexpected answer.
“I want you too, Will.” Hannibal’s smile was sad and wistful as he crouched beside his unseeing boy. “Oh, how I miss you dearly.”
***
Only later that night when Will was tucked safely back into bed, a fresh band-aid on each knee, was Hannibal finally able to breathe again. He perched beside Will in his usual position at the foot of his bed, just watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest.
“Good night, my little mongoose.” Hannibal spoke fondly and reached forward to press a kiss to the boy’s forehead as he did every night. He was not at all surprised when he failed to feel the familiar warm skin and that Will himself did not stir in his sleep for he could not feel the touch.
A swell of emotion suddenly arose within Hannibal and consumed him. This would not be the end. He would not let it.
“I swear an oath beneath the stars tonight Will Graham, that one day your eyes will fall on me once more, for I refuse to abandon you as you have abandoned me.” Hannibal’s maroon eyes glowed in the dark as he made his promise.
***
Later that week, Susan awoke to the lovely surprise of a new pair of fuzzy pink slippers on her front door step. Her own had grown tattered long ago and she could not afford such niceties on the pension she was on. She had lost her sense of smell many years ago and could not identify the scent of smoke that carried on the wind while she stood outside and thanked God for her gift. For a house was on fire in her small quaint street and closed shutters hid the burning flames from view.