Chapter Text
The early morning finds Will and Hannibal huddled close in the back of a newspaper delivery van, set for Henderson, only a short trip away. Will feels dreamlike, the night a tumble of impressions, Hannibals heart beating steadily under his head, the mark on his wrist an inferno of pain, grounding him.
Hannibal rouses him with a kiss to his hair when they cross some tracks and they hurriedly jump out and make their way carefully towards the chemical plant, train wagons with chemicals lining up for departure. They hastily check the labels, climbing on top of one just rolling out, headed for Barstow, California.
Will drops to his back on top of the train, the slight rail hiding him from sight, watching the black of the night fade slowly to the orange glow of what promises to become a very hot day. His wrist throbs and he grins, looking over at Hannibal who watches him intently, lying on his stomach on the other side, reaching out to clasp his right hand. Hannibal adjusts his grip until he can take Wills pulse, Will silently arching his brow.
„The branding will likely result in a fever. We have to take care not to let it get infected. I would suggest taking some antibiotics as soon as we are able. However, since there is nothing we can do about it now, I would suggest we sleep. We have to stay low on this roof, at least for another two hours, the train will likely pass through Las Vegas again, so this is probably the most sensible course of action.“
Will smiles tenderly, sees the echo on Hannibals lips, a weird counterpart to the fierceness he can see in his eyes. He breathes out deliberately, trying to relax on the rattling train, harsh and cold under his back, the wind ruffling his curls. He shakes his head minutely, vaguely amused at himself.
„So, what’s the status of our finances?“
„Zero. As you are well aware, we traded your last dollars for some water and sandwiches at that gas station.“
Hannibal holds the little bag up to demonstrate. Will huffs a laugh.
„… and -your- wallet?“
„Most of our cash has been traded for our identification. And I am loathe to admit, but I may have forgotten to take my wallet with me when we left the car.“
Will gapes at him and then laughs, mirth shaking his body, the words gasped through it.
„Oh, god help me, we -are- fucked. Wanted fugitives, no cash and Hannibal Lecter forgets something.“
Hannibal levels him with a sour look, but his lips twitch. His voice is soft, tenderly correcting, tongue wrapping delicately around the unfamiliar combination.
„Hannibal Graham-Lecter.“
Will is instantly sober again, swallowing tightly, his lashes suspiciously wet, whispering with a note of wonder.
„… and William Graham-Lecter…“
He swallows again, some of the mirth returning.
„Jack will be so utterly pissed…“
Hannibal smiles sharply at that, teeth flashing in the rising morning light. He puts his head on his arm, looking at Will contentedly, though his words are grave.
„You are aware, beloved, that the first time we will be able to use our new names will be if or when they arrest us?“
Will sighs, but smiles wryly.
„I am aware… but at least we’d be entitled to conjugal visits now…“
Hannibal raises his eyebrow, grinning slyly.
„Oh yes, we -could- try to induce a heart attack for Frederic, who would be no doubt eavesdropping on our sexual endeavors during our allowed time.“
Will grins at that, but it fades quickly, replaced by grim curiosity, searching Hannibals eyes.
„Do you think they’d adhere to the law in that? Or would they try to keep us separate?“
Hannibal blinks slowly, his fingers softly stroking Wills.
„They would very soon learn what it means to keep us separate, love. I was an almost model patient during my last stay due to incentive, but, suffice it to say, they should try to keep us… happy if we ever find ourselves under their care.“
Will grins tightly, the train switching tracks jostling him and he grimaces.
„Well, if we pass undetected on this I might need a massage… my back already complains.“
Hannibal squeezes his fingers, entwining them properly, voice deceptively soft.
„If we pass undetected you will get more than a massage, beloved.“
Will swallows at the heat in Hannibals eyes, letting his own longing show.
„Ah yes, Mr. Graham-Lecter, I believe you promised me quite an experience… I have to say, my expectations have been raised spectacularly high these last few weeks…“
He grins, pulling his lower lip between his teeth, chewing softly on it, seeing Hannibals eyes darken more. Hannibal voice is husky when he closes his eyes and settles.
„Soon, my love.“
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The next two hours are nerve-wracking, Will trying to sleep but the jostling and the situation keeping him awake. The train is very slow through Las Vegas, the intermittent stops gnawing on Wills nerves. It’s still early but every time Will hears a siren there’s a jolt of adrenaline. He puts his left wrist over the documents in his inner pockets, all thats left and all thats needed now, holding down against it, probably crinkling the documents and not caring at all. His right is linked with Hannibal, the position slightly uncomfortable but simply imperative.
He finally falls asleep, exhausted, when the suburbs fall back behind them, and the desert rushes by, the train picking up speed, the rising morning sun already warm.
He comes to via a light slap to his cheek and tries to open his eyes, mind bleary, foggy, realizing he is shaking and jerks awake, his head splitting with pain.
Hannibal pulls his hand from his right and puts his left under his head, tipping a water bottle against his mouth, and Will drinks greedily, moaning lightly. A shadow crosses his vision and a hot hand checks his forehead, Will trapping at Hannibal to keep him there greedily, the wind hot and not particularly cooling.
„Will, try to sit up. We overheated. The temperature rose faster than I anticipated. We need to cool off a bit.“
Will tries to make his tongue work, the words thick in his mouth.
„They’ll see….“
„There is no-one here to see. Besides, I would rather kill any witnesses than let harm come to you now. Sit up.“
Will chuckles and groans, and forces his aching joints into submission. He pants into the hot desert wind, chafing with the speed of the train. His suit is soaked, clinging to his skin. Hannibal settles in front of him, looking also quite wrecked, mimicking his posture, their legs interlinked and offers him the water bottle again. Will drains it in one long swallow. He looks at Hannibal, his hair wild around his head, a silver halo against the desert.
„How much longer do you think we’ll have to stay on here?“
Hannibal tilts his head, looking out at the scenery for a moment.
„This train should reach its destination in approximately 2 hours, I believe. We need to get off before it reaches the station.“
Will hums, throat dry.
„We should try to get our strength back up… pass me the sandwiches?“
Hannibal sighs.
„I think we should skip the tuna sandwiches, though the cheese sandwiches should still be fine… I did put them in an extra foil bag.“
Will takes one without comment, the stag head on his wrist deep red and weeping.