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Chiyoh found him howling himself hoarse, his quivering palms still pressed firmly to the still chest that lay beneath. No one really knows how long Will had been trying to resuscitate the other man. It could've been hours.
He didn't notice Chiyoh's presence for quite some time. Long enough for Chiyoh to allow herself a few moments to grief, realizing that the man who was her captor, her protector, her charge, her... everything, really, is dead. She closed her eyes and said goodbye to Hannibal Lecter.
When she opened them again, red-rimmed and glistening blue eyes stared at her. She saw the recognition, but she could tell that he was too upset and sick to decipher his feelings about her presence. She blinked slowly at him, it was the best she could do to show her support, as she felt that words had been ripped out of her by the devastating grief.
She took a step forward and Will's knuckles turned white where his hands were clenched on Hannibal's shirt, not willing to let go. She took a couple of reluctant steps closer, and a closer glimpse showed how cloudy Hannibal's eyes had turned. He'd been dead for hours now.
Growls snatched Chiyoh's attention away from the dead body, and she saw the canine ear lying flat on top of Will's curly hair, his body seized as he tried to protect the dead body, yet the still dripping blood from his cheek and chest, along with the breathlessness give away to how weak he really was. She carefully places the gun she had been holding on the sand, eyes never leaving Will's. Partially to comfort the man and partially to ensure that he won't jump her. It took some time, and she was not sure whether their previous acquaintanceship helped or worsened the situation, but she let out a breath when she finally managed to touch Hannibal's body.
She was finally close enough to be able to study Will's features, and she noticed how pale he was, and how dirty and irritated the skin around the wound on his cheek was, "Will," She gasped out, as she felt a spark of concern grows within her. She never cared for this man, but she could only guess that it was Hannibal's devotion that was bleeding into her, "Will, we have to take care of your wounds."
Another growl, more forceful this time, and it took enough energy to make Will sway in his stance, "I'm-" Will gasped, his voice barely audible, gone by overuse, "I'm not leaving him."
"You won't have to, we'll take him with us," Chiyoh assured him.
It took some more coaxing, but soon, Will was curled up around Hannibal's corpse at the back of Chiyoh's car as they made their way to one of the Lecter's properties, up in the Canadian woods. Chiyoh started to worry when they reached the sixth-hour mark of their drive, and Will still refused to eat or drink. He only allowed Chiyoh to patch his wounds enough to stop the bleeding, but nothing more. He was dehydrated, she worried that he might even develop an infection.
Moreover, Chiyoh couldn't stop thinking about how to bury Hannibal's body. She couldn't bear the thought of having him rot right in front of her eyes. Yet, she couldn't think of any other way of getting Will away from the body other than to wait for the hybrid to die eventually. She felt Hannibal's disappointment at her thought loom over her, and she wasn't sure whether she wanted to cry or laugh at how pathetic it was that her life was still dictated by the very much so dead, heartless beast.
It was the twelfth hour of the drive when she finally made a decision. She spied over to the car, where she could see the silhouette of Will sniffling around Hannibal, trying to get one of the stiff arms to wrap around him. It was pathetic and it hurts to see, which finalized her decision to make the call. He said to never contact him unless she was truly on a dead end, and she believes that she is in one.
It took too long for the call to be picked up, but she couldn't resist a smile when it finally did and a series of filthy words filled her ear, "It's fucking three in the motherfucking morning, this better be fucking important or your family is fucking dead, you fucking cunt."
"Hello, Nigel," She greeted, and it pleased her that she could feel the tension over the line when he realized who was calling.
Nigel was quiet for some time, before he asked, "What happened?"
"Hannibal is dead."
Another moment of silence, and she could hear shuffling from the other side of the line. Then, "The motherfucker is finally dead, fucking good on us. I don't see why you needed to call," He said with false bravado. Chiyoh could easily hear that the news broke him, even if just slightly.
"I need your help to bury him," Chiyoh murmured, feeling ashamed for needing help for such a simple task.
"What do you fucking mean?" Nigel grumbled.
Chiyoh stayed quiet for a while, calculating her words, before finally saying, "His hybrid won't let me touch him."
"Hybrid?"
"Yes. His companion," She explained, still unsure how to describe the relationship between Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter.
Nigel managed a thick, teary laugh, "Can't believe that vile cunt manage to have a fucking 'companion' or whatever the fuck, and a fucking hybrid at that," He paused before he sighed, "Just fucking shoot the fucking hybrid then."
"He won't let me.”
Nigel groaned, "No fucking shit he won't let you. You don't seem to have any fucking problem shooting me before-"
"Nigel, he won't let me," Chiyoh said, knowing that Nigel would understand.
It took some time for Nigel to react, and when he did, his breathing was heavy, "Fucking hell, Chiyoh, the motherfucker is dead-"
"He's rotting, Nigel," Chiyoh cut him off, knowing he would share the same fear of allowing one Hannibal Lecter to die and rot without honoring him.
Nigel sighed, "Which house?"
Chiyoh finally released the breath she didn't realize she was holding and proceeded to dictate the details of the property they were headed to. Nigel promised to arrive in two days, and Chiyoh was slightly thankful that it was snowing where they were headed.
Will was even weaker when Chiyoh climbed back into the car. He lay his head on the crook Hannibal's neck, eyes dull yet his glare was still sharp, and his tail thumped angrily onto the car's floor.
"You're dying, Will," She told him firmly before nudging the bottled water closer to him.
Will sniffed, "Good," He whispered.
Chiyoh continued to stare at him, and made sure that her voice was stable when she said, "You have to let me bury him."
Will tried growling, but it came out weak and closer to a whine, "Bury him when I die."
"Will-"
"Bury him with me."
Chiyoh sighed and continued to drive.
They arrived after another five-hour drive, and it was easier to coax Will to allow her to move Hannibal’s body onto the shed. However, convincing Will to leave the body was more difficult. She ended up bringing a thick set of blankets for Will, to ensure that he doesn’t freeze to death.
Then, she waits for Nigel to arrive.
When Nigel finally arrived, Chiyoh told him where to find his brother. He didn’t even bother to ask her to come with him, he figured that she had done enough. So, Nigel made his way towards the shed alone.
"Well, look at you, gorgeous," Nigel said once he had gotten a good look at the hybrid that was half asleep, curled up against his brother's side.
The familiar voice alerted Will, his eyes snapping open, but he scowled when he realized the accent was all wrong. He turned his gaze toward the source of the voice but seemed dumbfounded at what he found. It was devastating to see him so hopeful, then quickly realize that the man he had hoped for was still dead. And said man's doppelgänger was standing right in front of him. The low growl that the pup lets out makes Nigel smile.
"Feisty little thing, aren't you? And a fucking beauty, too. No wonder the fucking asshole had willingly attached himself to you," Nigel said coyly as he walked closer. He then kneels right next to Hannibal's body, cringing at the stench. Yet, he still reached out a hand to run along his brother's hairline. Will growled but stayed put, curious enough to let this play out. Nigel sighed, "Fucking beat me to the motherfucking finish line, didn't you? Why must you win every goddamn time, brother."
"Hannibal doesn't have a brother," Will whispered, which made Nigel laugh.
"Ouch," Nigel said humorlessly before turning his attention to Will, "Yet here I am."
Will sniffed, his eyes shifting from Nigel to Hannibal and back to Nigel. Will shook his head, the motion causing his curls to fall over his eyes further, "I'm dying, and you're a hallucination."
Nigel scoffed, "Maybe I am, and your hallucination is telling you that we're going to bury my dead brother's body."
Will barked and jumped over Hannibal's body, his face inches away from Nigel's, "Not before I die."
"Well, usually, I wouldn't hesitate to grant your fucking wishes, sweetheart, but-" Nigel managed to say as he reached for his brother's body, but then Will was charging at him.
Will was weak, but it was enough of a surprise for Nigel that he managed to get knocked down to the floor, "Motherfucker!" Nigel yelped when Will managed to bite down on his shoulder. With a kick, Will was thrown off his body and landed with a whine into a heap on the floor. Nigel groaned as he touched his shoulder and his hand came away bloody. He glanced at the hybrid, who was still snarling and glaring at him, but was failing to get back up again. Seeing red, Nigel stood up and stomped his way toward the bundle of a seemingly feral hybrid and lifted him by his torn and stained white shirt. Nigel slammed Will against the wall, which earned him another pathetic-sounding whine, but Will was still snarling, trying to bite Nigel again.
Nigel then grabbed Will's jaw and held it shut, his one large hand almost covering the whole bottom half of Will's face. He saw terror in Will's eyes, but Nigel's anger was still burning, "That's enough of that, darling, or I will put a motherfucking muzzle on you, do you understand?" The change was immediate, as Will's body went limp at the mention of a muzzle and his eyes shone with genuine fear, "Now, here's what we're going to do. We're going to bury my brother's body, and you're going to be with him throughout the process or I'm going to knock you the fuck out, and there will be no traces of him left once you're awake."
Will whined and cried under Nigel's hand, and he seemed so different from the snarling hybrid he was mere seconds ago. There were tears in his eyes, overflowing, then eventually staining his cheeks and Nigel's hand. It broke Nigel's heart.
Slowly, Nigel removed his palm from Will's face, watching for any sign of further aggression. When there was none, he finally loosened his grip enough to allow Will to speak.
"I want to be with him, please," Will begged, his voice hitched with tears, "Please, promise me you would let me be with him.”
Nigel nodded, surprising himself by trusting the poor pup. He knew manipulation, and the utter despair he saw in Will’s eyes was not one. He let go of his grip and ran the hand through Will’s hair instead, “Alright, I promise, Will,” He found himself saying, and when Will proceeded to let out a sob, he gathered the hybrid in his arms, tucking Will’s face onto his shoulder, “I’m sorry, Will. It’s alright.”
Nigel was a vicious man. He never knew life without violence, yet he found himself wanting nothing more than to soothe and care for the quivering man in his arms. He wanted to laugh as it seemed that a piece of his cruelty dissolved along with the death of Hannibal Lecter.
Will dozed off in his arms. When Chiyoh walked into the shed then proceeded to inform Nigel that it was the first time Will had slept since she found them on the shore, he didn't let go of the hybrid until he was sure Will would stay asleep. At least for a while. He did promise that Will would be with Hannibal when he was buried.
Afterward, Nigel and Chiyoh planned the burial. Deciding that burning and then burying the ashes would be best, to lessen the evidence. It was what his brother deserved, to have his body not found and remain a mystery for the rest of time. They dug the hole and retrieved the gasoline. It was nighttime when they finished with the preparation, and Chiyoh had sent him to retrieve Will.
Will was still asleep in one of the guest bedrooms, where Nigel had left him. Curled up on one side of the bed, sweating profusely, and face screwed into a distressed frown. Nigel didn’t have the heart to wake him up just yet, so he peeked at the bandages on his cheek and chest and decided to clean the wounds. It was strange, this newfound need to care for the other man, but he embraced it. It was nice after the similar need had been ripped out of him so abruptly and violently by his darling Gabi. He shook his head and tried to focus on the task at hand. This is nothing like Gabi. Will is nothing like Gabi.
Nigel was done with the wound on Will’s cheek and was finishing up on the wound on his chest when Will started to curl tighter on himself. His hands and feet were twitching, and Nigel realized that the hybrid was having a nightmare. Nigel quickly put the new dressing on the wound before he started shushing the other man, fingers running soothingly through Will’s mostly matted hair. Then, Will began to howl. It started with something soft and broken before it turned loud and desperate.
Nigel instinctively pulled the hybrid close to his chest, “Will, wake up, you’re alright,” He said, firm yet soft. He shook Will’s shoulder until his eyes snapped open, his blue eyes were brighter now, more lucid and alive.
“Hannibal,” Will whispered, his hands gripping tight onto the lapels of Nigel’s jacket, the ends of his mouth began to turn into a smile. When Nigel simply sighed and gave him a sad smile, Will’s smile disappeared.
They stayed silent for a while, and Nigel took the opportunity to study Will’s face properly. Will looked a little better now, the sleep was good for him. His eyes seemed more human than they were before, and he was much more aware, less delirious.
“Is it time?” Will finally asked, breaking the silence, and Nigel simply nodded.
They rose from the bed and made their way towards the backyard, where Hannibal’s grave lay open.
Will had to look away when Chiyoh and Nigel dragged Hannibal’s body from the shed towards the hole in the backyard. It was too much to watch.
Will wasn’t aware of what was happening until he felt the heat. It almost knocked him off his feet, the surprise of it. One moment it was freezing cold as he stood in the snow, and then it was overbearingly hot. He couldn’t, wouldn’t, wrap his head around the loss of Hannibal Lecter just yet, but he couldn’t stop himself from feeling the pain. It crept from deep inside his chest where the pain was so great that he was finding it hard to breathe, and into his skin, where it prickled as if there were thousands of insects biting him. He wrapped his arms around himself, trying to contain himself so he wouldn’t spill all over the snow.
Will didn’t realize he was crying until he tasted the salty tears on his lips. Turns out he was sobbing, and once he realized, he was heaving. It was so typical that Hannibal was the one who was dead, but he was the one who was suffering. He wanted to yell and scream, call Hannibal all types of names, for leaving him when he finally, finally allowed himself to become what Hannibal had imagined. What he truly was. For leaving him alone to deal with what he had become. For betraying him. For leaving so soon, just after Will finally got him back. But he couldn’t. So he stayed quiet and unseeing.
The fire burned for a long time, and Will finally collapsed onto the snow once the fire started to subdue. That was when he finally took a look at the burning hole. It was beautiful. In the dark of the night, the fire coming from within the ground seemed like a trapdoor that opened to hell. Which was just perfectly suitable, as they were burning the devil himself.
It took a moment for him to realize that Chiyoh and Nigel had taken a seat by his sides. And it took even longer for him to realize that Nigel was absentmindedly stroking his head, just between his ears. Will thought that he would be angry about the touch, but he found that he wasn't. He was just grateful for the comfort.
Once the fire had finally, finally died, he heard Chiyoh sigh.
“I shall leave now,” Chiyoh said, voice thick with sadness and Will realized that she hadn’t gotten the chance to grieve. She was probably too busy dealing with a delirious and agitated hybrid.
“I apologize for how I was before,” Will started, and continued when Chiyoh glanced at him, “I was more dog than I was human.”
Chiyoh smiled and said, “Take care of yourself, Will Graham,” before she stood up and made her way into the house.
Nigel scoffed and grumbled, “Didn’t even have the fucking decency to say goodbye to me, that fucking brat. Didn’t even fucking ask me to close the grave, she just assumed that I’ll fucking do it.”
Will couldn’t help himself but smile, “I’ll help.”
Nigel glanced at him, eyes softening, “You don’t have to, Pup, just get some more rest, and I’ll clean up out here.”
Will should be angry at the nickname, it was demeaning and infantilizing at the same time. But he was too exhausted to say anything about it now, so he let it slide. For tonight.
They argue halfheartedly, and Will manages to convince Nigel that he is well enough to help. And so, they start to close the grave. There was nothing but ashes within, but it still felt like closure to Will. If only a little. They heard Chiyoh’s car driving away when they were halfway through closing the grave, and Will had to endure listening to Nigel complain about how Chiyoh had always favored Hannibal and never cared enough about him. It was endearing, and it filled the silence. It was better than listening to his own thoughts.
When they finally finished, Will felt heavy all over again.
“So, I’m assuming you’re going to leave too now?” Will asked Nigel, his eyes still glued to the large miscolored patch on the yard.
Will could feel Nigel’s eyes on him, studying, trying to understand. It was so similar to how he felt when Hannibal watched him. The difference was that he didn’t fear what Nigel was thinking about. He doesn’t feel like Nigel was plotting to mold his mind into something entirely new, and it felt nice. Suddenly, it was difficult to think about Nigel leaving him.
Nigel sighed, “Nah, somebody ought to take care of you, Pup. You’re still dying, you know.”
Will rolled his eyes and brushed him off. Trying to hide the fact that he was glad Nigel was staying.