You do not understand. Perhaps that is to be expected. The shackles were to your benefit, ensuring I behaved as you wished me to. Letting you believe you had somehow changed me. As I believed I had changed you. Perhaps we were both wrong.
[ Words like these, like the ones Hannibal had spoken before he'd gone into the morgue, were like drops of lemon juice into open wounds. They stung and made Will squirm with a confusing moras of emotion.
He struggled to keep his mind walking in a straight line, rather than straying from the path. ]
No. You had developed and custom fit your person suit years before you met me. It has served you for years before me, and it served you even after me.
In fact, it doesn't benefit me, Hannibal. If anything your well developed person suit aided in my transformation; from my destruction to my rebirth.
Do not fool yourself into think you're setting it aside of your own design, Hannibal. Look in a mirror, you are Norfinbury's design.
[Wherever Hannibal has settled in the hospital for the moment, John finds him. He comes bearing gifts! It's... not a lot, but it's a bit of dinner for the man. He's been trying to give the other man some space after what's happened... but he's also not particularly keen on leaving him completely alone. The memories of Luna and Quark, of Ecks' terrified face as she murdered John to prevent him murdering her, as well, have been playing on repeat in the doctor's mind since they'd encountered Hannibal last night. There's no way to make this right, but maybe he can help make it bearable? It's a distraction from the fact that Mary's not coming back and probably never will be.]
Hey, I made a bit of food, if you're hungry. Sorry it's not much. Tess showed me how to make chicken salad with the supplies from the school...
[There's a roll with poor man's chicken salad on a tin foil plate along with a fruit cup and cup of vanilla ice cream. John does, at least, know how to cook homely meals, so it won't taste awful, it's just not up to snuff for most refined palates. He offers a sympathetic smile as he moves closer and his tone is gentle.
The kid gloves are going to be on dealing with Hannibal for a while, at least until the man tells him to lay off. The distress of the situation makes John feel even worse about trying to test the psychiatrist with a semi-session a few weeks ago. Hannibal has enough on his plate, as it were, he doesn't need John's problems, as well.]
[ An apology right off the bat? That's a little surprising. But it does mean this'll probably go well. ]
You came across one of the few who wouldn't take it personally, at least. It was part of your death loss, wasn't it, that made you act that way?
[ He knows exactly what happened, but he also knows that losing his own self-control is one of his largest fears. Hannibal has to at least be annoyed by going through the same thing, so maybe they should talk around it for the moment. ]
[His self control, his ability to raise death and destruction to the level of art, is what separates Hannibal from the common, animalistic murderer. He finds what happened, what he did, extremely distasteful, and is sincerely ashamed.]
Yes. For the two days after I was resurrected, I...lost my self-control. I would not have done what I did otherwise.
[The first thing Hannibal did when he got into one of the single rooms was go into the bathroom, shed his bloodied clothing, and scrub them with cold water and dish soap. It wouldn't get all the blood out, but it would help. Then he washed himself, sponging the blood from his face, his hair, his hands. The water in the sink swirled with red, and Hannibal closed his eyes for a moment, just breathing. He could never forget what happened, the ugliness seared into his perfect memory.
He hung up his clothes, then put on his spare shirt and his damp boxers, and sat on the bed. He took out his tablet, and messaged Will.
It did not go well.
When John comes in, Hannibal is staring at the snow covered window. He turns his head, and smiles politely at the man, the smile not reaching his tired eyes, unable to hide his sorrow. He took the plate.]
I... know it's not really my place, but if you need someone to talk to... [He bites his lip.]
I've been through this before. The town. You can't let it get to you, mate. What happened, what you did, it wasn't you. It doesn't really make it easier thinking of it like that. It never gets easier. [He winces.] But don't let anyone tell you this was your fault. Whoever you hurt, we'll handle it. I can talk to them for you, explain what happened. The death price.
We'll get you over to Mr. Graham and... it won't be okay, but it'll be what it is. I know he misses you. I spoke with him after you went into the morgue. He's probably gonna be hurt with what happened, but... if you can make him understand that it was for him... maybe...
[He trails off. Uncertain where he's trying to go with that. Hannibal and Will aren't himself and Sherlock. But John remembers the betrayal and hurt running deep after Sherlock returned from the dead.]
[John is very kind, and there is a part of Hannibal, the part that is cool and rational, that is considering how best to take advantage of that on a larger scale, in the long game. But more immediately Hannibal sincerely appreciates the other doctor's care and compassion. It will help him emerge from this in a number of ways. Reinforcing the idea that Hannibal was not actually a murderer, of course. And perhaps also in healing the rift with Will.
He touches the chicken salad sandwich, almost absently.]
He doesn't believe I went in the morgue in order to protect him.
[John sits down on the bed next to Hannibal. Near enough to be companionable, but keeping some relative distance to avoid crowding him.]
It can be hard. [He glances down at his hands, more willing to share in support of someone hurting than in the context of a therapist.] Back home, um... Sherlock, he had to... he pretended to kill himself. It was to protect me and some of our friends. He was being blackmailed with out lives. I didn't know that at the time, though. And... to make it look real he... We had a phone call before he jumped off the roof of a building while I was watching. That's the last memory I had when I first arrived here. The funeral, a little bit after it.
And then he was here. You know, I thought I was getting borrowed time. And then... some things happened and it came out that it was fake. And why it happened.
It hurt. It still hurts. Because even though I know he did it to save lives, my life. It's... that trust. And everything you think you know about someone, about the truth. It's like having the rug pulled out from under you, and there's not even a floor there, you just tumble.
He's killed himself here a few times for experiments. And it hurts every time.
Will... he loves you, right? I can honestly see why he'd have a hard time seeing it, mate. That it was to protect him. Even when he does see it, can think rationally about it, that's not gonna help much. There's still that hurt. That you'd do something like that to him. That you wouldn't... let him come with you. He'll be wondering when you'll do it again. What the truth is, if he can trust anything you say.
[John clears his throat and glances away.]
Probably the best thing you can do is give it a little time and... if there's another person he trusts who can talk him into giving you another chance. And don't... do that again, basically. Show him that the good things he believes about you are real.
[That calm, rational part of Hannibal's mind absorbs the man's story, remembering for the purposes of perhaps using it later to his own advantage. The rest of him, though, was still aching, and the doctor's words were having little effect. He sets aside the plate, and looks again at the snow- covered window. Dark and cold and confining.]
Our circumstances, Dr. Watson, are not equivalent. Will was entirely prepared to be the one to put on the suit. He felt righteous doing exactly what I did to him, to Dr. House. He would have killed himself for the sake of his friend, and left me in the process, even after I asked him not to.
[He swallows, feeling tears welling.]
I have no reason to believe he will not do something comparable in the future.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Re: cw: blasphemy
Date: 2018-03-30 04:54 am (UTC)From:[Come, Will. Come dance. You know it will be beautiful, right up to the moment you finally die.]
no subject
Date: 2018-03-30 05:01 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2018-03-30 05:06 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2018-03-30 05:10 am (UTC)From:Shame you missed it.
[ Will, don't tease the Ripper.
...
Can't help it. ]
no subject
Date: 2018-03-30 05:14 am (UTC)From:Considering the lengths you've gone to to protect the diagnostician, I'd say it was the vampire.
no subject
Date: 2018-03-30 05:19 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2018-03-30 05:30 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2018-03-30 05:47 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2018-03-30 03:16 pm (UTC)From:[He's free, Will. Why did he ever wear that suit? Why not take what he wants, when he wants it?
he's not himself will]no subject
Date: 2018-03-30 06:07 pm (UTC)From:I don't think you're going to want to be rid of it so quickly now.
[ Being free means being impulsive, which is never a good look on you Hannibal. ]
no subject
Date: 2018-03-30 07:34 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2018-03-30 09:05 pm (UTC)From:Listen to yourself Hannibal. You are speaking words that belong to the capricious nature of this town, not your own words.
[ Speaking. Typing. Same difference. ]
no subject
Date: 2018-03-30 09:22 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2018-03-30 09:29 pm (UTC)From:He struggled to keep his mind walking in a straight line, rather than straying from the path. ]
No. You had developed and custom fit your person suit years before you met me. It has served you for years before me, and it served you even after me.
In fact, it doesn't benefit me, Hannibal. If anything your well developed person suit aided in my transformation; from my destruction to my rebirth.
Do not fool yourself into think you're setting it aside of your own design, Hannibal. Look in a mirror, you are Norfinbury's design.
no subject
Date: 2018-03-30 09:34 pm (UTC)From:[Forgive him, Will, he's not himself.]
Night 346; action
Date: 2018-04-08 07:48 pm (UTC)From:[Wherever Hannibal has settled in the hospital for the moment, John finds him. He comes bearing gifts! It's... not a lot, but it's a bit of dinner for the man. He's been trying to give the other man some space after what's happened... but he's also not particularly keen on leaving him completely alone. The memories of Luna and Quark, of Ecks' terrified face as she murdered John to prevent him murdering her, as well, have been playing on repeat in the doctor's mind since they'd encountered Hannibal last night. There's no way to make this right, but maybe he can help make it bearable? It's a distraction from the fact that Mary's not coming back and probably never will be.]
Hey, I made a bit of food, if you're hungry. Sorry it's not much. Tess showed me how to make chicken salad with the supplies from the school...
[There's a roll with poor man's chicken salad on a tin foil plate along with a fruit cup and cup of vanilla ice cream. John does, at least, know how to cook homely meals, so it won't taste awful, it's just not up to snuff for most refined palates. He offers a sympathetic smile as he moves closer and his tone is gentle.
The kid gloves are going to be on dealing with Hannibal for a while, at least until the man tells him to lay off. The distress of the situation makes John feel even worse about trying to test the psychiatrist with a semi-session a few weeks ago. Hannibal has enough on his plate, as it were, he doesn't need John's problems, as well.]
@godsend, audio, Day 348
Date: 2018-04-08 10:13 pm (UTC)From:Well, hello there. Hope I was tasty, at least.
Re: @godsend, audio, Day 348
Date: 2018-04-08 11:19 pm (UTC)From:Hello, Gabriel.
I apologize for what happened. Please believe me, I was not myself.
[Its true, if not the way most would expect.]
no subject
Date: 2018-04-09 01:28 am (UTC)From:You came across one of the few who wouldn't take it personally, at least. It was part of your death loss, wasn't it, that made you act that way?
[ He knows exactly what happened, but he also knows that losing his own self-control is one of his largest fears. Hannibal has to at least be annoyed by going through the same thing, so maybe they should talk around it for the moment. ]
no subject
Date: 2018-04-09 01:45 am (UTC)From:Yes. For the two days after I was resurrected, I...lost my self-control. I would not have done what I did otherwise.
no subject
Date: 2018-04-09 02:20 am (UTC)From:He hung up his clothes, then put on his spare shirt and his damp boxers, and sat on the bed. He took out his tablet, and messaged Will.
It did not go well.
When John comes in, Hannibal is staring at the snow covered window. He turns his head, and smiles politely at the man, the smile not reaching his tired eyes, unable to hide his sorrow. He took the plate.]
Thank you.
no subject
Date: 2018-04-09 02:33 am (UTC)From:I... know it's not really my place, but if you need someone to talk to... [He bites his lip.]
I've been through this before. The town. You can't let it get to you, mate. What happened, what you did, it wasn't you. It doesn't really make it easier thinking of it like that. It never gets easier. [He winces.] But don't let anyone tell you this was your fault. Whoever you hurt, we'll handle it. I can talk to them for you, explain what happened. The death price.
We'll get you over to Mr. Graham and... it won't be okay, but it'll be what it is. I know he misses you. I spoke with him after you went into the morgue. He's probably gonna be hurt with what happened, but... if you can make him understand that it was for him... maybe...
[He trails off. Uncertain where he's trying to go with that. Hannibal and Will aren't himself and Sherlock. But John remembers the betrayal and hurt running deep after Sherlock returned from the dead.]
no subject
Date: 2018-04-09 03:05 am (UTC)From:He touches the chicken salad sandwich, almost absently.]
He doesn't believe I went in the morgue in order to protect him.
cw: suicide
Date: 2018-04-09 03:33 am (UTC)From:It can be hard. [He glances down at his hands, more willing to share in support of someone hurting than in the context of a therapist.] Back home, um... Sherlock, he had to... he pretended to kill himself. It was to protect me and some of our friends. He was being blackmailed with out lives. I didn't know that at the time, though. And... to make it look real he... We had a phone call before he jumped off the roof of a building while I was watching. That's the last memory I had when I first arrived here. The funeral, a little bit after it.
And then he was here. You know, I thought I was getting borrowed time. And then... some things happened and it came out that it was fake. And why it happened.
It hurt. It still hurts. Because even though I know he did it to save lives, my life. It's... that trust. And everything you think you know about someone, about the truth. It's like having the rug pulled out from under you, and there's not even a floor there, you just tumble.
He's killed himself here a few times for experiments. And it hurts every time.
Will... he loves you, right? I can honestly see why he'd have a hard time seeing it, mate. That it was to protect him. Even when he does see it, can think rationally about it, that's not gonna help much. There's still that hurt. That you'd do something like that to him. That you wouldn't... let him come with you. He'll be wondering when you'll do it again. What the truth is, if he can trust anything you say.
[John clears his throat and glances away.]
Probably the best thing you can do is give it a little time and... if there's another person he trusts who can talk him into giving you another chance. And don't... do that again, basically. Show him that the good things he believes about you are real.
Re: cw: suicide
Date: 2018-04-09 05:56 pm (UTC)From:Our circumstances, Dr. Watson, are not equivalent. Will was entirely prepared to be the one to put on the suit. He felt righteous doing exactly what I did to him, to Dr. House. He would have killed himself for the sake of his friend, and left me in the process, even after I asked him not to.
[He swallows, feeling tears welling.]
I have no reason to believe he will not do something comparable in the future.