The Ripper's Love

Healing

You climbed out of the back of Hannibal's car, relishing fresh, clean clothes against your chilled skin.

Hannibal kneeled in-front of the other car's back door, hands carefully tending to Will's head injury.

Will hissed in pain, and you saw Hannibal softly put his hand on Will's knee, whispering words you couldn't hear.

You sat in the car, fighting the exhaustion that had set in as soon as you had parked. The weight of what you had just done plus the worry of Will's injury had hit you like a train, and you struggled to keep your eyes open. You focused in on Hannibal and Will's conversation in a vain attempt to stay awake.

"Just be careful with it. Don't do anything that could cause it to bleed again. I can't do much without cutting off some of these beautiful curls." Hannibal ran his hand through Will's hair for effect, and you giggled as Will flinched back and smacked the doctors hand away.

You saw Hannibal's shoulders shake, and it made your heart swell.

"Rude, William. And you know what we do to the rude," Hannibal said, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

You climbed out of the car, fighting exhaustion all the way.

"How's he doing doc?" Will looks over, a twinkle in his eye.

"Fine. Small concussion and a minor head injury, but nothing too serious. But what you did, was truly amazing."

You frowned. "I did what I had to."

Hannibal smirked at you, and you felt the common urge to wipe that look off his face by kissing or slapping him.

"Will saw how you acted. That wasn't just what you had to do. That was more. That was the urge that we all share coming out to play."

You shrugged, not wanting to believe it.

Hannibal stood, and kissed you lightly on the forehead. "I know it's hard to accept," he whispered, his breath fanning across your frozen face.

He turned, helping Will out of the vehicle.

"You cleaned your blood from the crime scene?"

You nodded. Will didn't say anything, just walked around the car and opened the passenger door.

"Good. This will look like a murder plot by someone, most likely family, seeking justice."

You nodded again, and slid into the back seat, laying down in spite of Hannibal's protests.

You slept peacefully, the lilt of classical music from the radio leading you into pleasant dreams of happy times.

(Time skip brought to you by now writing in the car with my Christian parents)

You woke with a start, rolling over in a bed.

You sat up abruptly, relaxing slightly when you saw that it was your room.

You threw your covers off, sighing as you saw the time. You picked up your phone, the numbers 2:49 glaring up at you.

You shuffled out the door, walking to the bathroom to wash the blood out of your hair.

You stop when you see the flash of something in the living room. You turn, you're intrigue overcoming your first thoughts.

You softly walk towards the soft changing colors emanating from the crack in the door.

You open it slowly, peaking inside.

Will sat on the couch, wrapped in at least two blankets, seemingly curled up in a ball. Hannibal had his arms wrapped around him, his head leaning on the back of the couch. You heard a soft snore come from him, and you realized he was asleep.

Will's eyes were scanning the TV, his eyes lidded and glazed. You stepped inside, his head snapping towards the sound the door made as it opened wider. You winked at him as you walked over.

You saw Supernatural on the TV, and sat down quietly, taking care to not wake up the sleeping Hannibal. Will watches you, head tilted.

You motion for him to come over, and he slowly moves out of Hannibal's arms, scooting over to you. You open your arms, and wrap them around his curled up self.

"Want to tell me about what's going on, and why you are up so late?"

Will sighs, eye's still on the TV. "After night's like these, sleep is hard to come by for me. I'm tired, but my body won't let me. Maybe it's a form of punishment for what I've done."

You roll your eyes, and run a hand through his hair.

"If you're being punished, does that mean I will be too?"

That question seems to stop Will in his thoughts, and he shakes his head. "No, it's different. You were just helping me."

You press your lips to the top of his head. "No. I decided to come, and what I did went further than in defense of you. If you're being punished, then I soon will be too."

Will tried to get you to sleep, but you wouldn't budge.

He finally gave up, slumping back into you, his eyes going back to watch the show. You rest your chin on his curls and watch with him, arms wrapped around him.

You decide that washing hair can come later, as Will seemed in dire need of comfort and support.

As you see the sun peak through the curtains, you notice Will's chest rising and falling slowly. You find yourself finally nodding off too.

You dream of old memories and new ones.

***