A bastards design

Trauma

Hannibal drove Will to the house, it looked quiet. He turned to talk to Will when he suddenly got out the car with his gun in hand, and started to approach the house.

A woman suddenly stumbled out, blood pouring from her slit throat right into Wills arms.
He panicked and lowered her to the floor, trying to put pressure on her wound as he began to shake uncontrollably, the ooze of warm blood soaking his hands.
His mind was a mess of thoughts, neurons firing and ricocheting off his skull a million miles per minute, his brain screaming at him.

“I’ve got this Will, go find Abigail.”
“B-But I... she-”
“I said go”

He was dragged to his feet and gently pushed inside, snapping his head back into his train of thought, opening the kitchen door his hand snapped to lock onto Garrett.

“Let her go.”

There was a sudden jerk of Garrett’s hand as he slashed Abigails throat, Will acted almost on instinct. He fired multiple shots in quick succession into Garrett’s chest, blood spurting out like a pierced water balloon.
Will dropped his gun in horror and quickly fell to his knees to try and hold onto Abigail.

Hannibal burst into the room and moved Wills hands, applying pressure onto the girls neck, he looked up at Will, who was trembling and rocking back and forth.
Blood splattered his face like constellations in the night sky, illuminating his face in the same way the sun illuminates a stained glass window in a church.



Will hadn’t spoken to anyone for almost a month after the incident, except for a few sparse words to Hannibal. He had become a complete nervous wreck, haunted with the memories of blood pouring into his palms, staining them red like water over a stone.

He had jolted awake from the night terrors again, nearly head butting Hannibal at full force as he cradled his trembling body at night. It had become a regular occurrence, and not even Hannibal’s medicine recommendations were aiding his sleep.

“I think you should go visit her,” Hannibal said, wrapping his arms around Wills stomach from behind as Will applied his scar patches, he gave him a gentle kiss to his jaw, “might help with the nightmares.”

“Who? Abigail?”
“Mhm, you feel guilty for shooting her father, why not assume a fatherly role?”
“I’m not sure she’d appreciate the guy who killed her dad to try and assume the position”
“You saved her life”
“I ruined her life, she’s an orphan now thanks to me”
“You relate to her, why not visit?”
“If we visit, can we do something nice for lunch?”
“A picnic?”
“That sounds nice...”
“Alright, a picnic for lunch it is. Now go put a shirt on, it’s warm out and I don’t want you having heatstroke from all those layers.”
“I know b- I mean... Hannibal”

Hannibal cocked his eyebrow, “were you about to call me babe?” He asked, chewing at Wills jaw. He felt Wills breathing hitch and smirked.

“M-Maybe”



Hannibal had dropped Will off at the hospital so he could go in and visit Abigail, he would’ve loved to have gone in, but he was busy preparing their picnic date together, so Will shuffled inside by himself for now.

He parked outside Duncan’s new place and head up to the front door, simplistic enough, nothing he wouldn’t have expected from one of Scotland Yards boys, though the brass lion head door knocker was a tad on the obvious side.

The door clicked open and Duncan looked up at Hannibal, feeling the colour drain from his face.

“Hello Duncan, may I come inside?”

Before he even had time to react, a scalpel was plunged deep into his stomach, a white hot burning feeling tearing through flesh and muscle, making warm blood flow out onto the hardwood floor. Hannibal took that as his invitation to go inside, shutting and locking the door behind him, the picnic was going to be wonderful.

No one could hear the ear splitting shrieks that poisoned the air around him, it was soon sweetened again with gurgling and choking as fluid filled his punctured lungs.



Hannibal looked into the hospital room to find Will asleep on the couch, using his jacket as a pillow.
He sat down next to Will and pulled a spare blanket over him, he gently moved him so that his head was now resting on his lap so he could run his hand through his hair like a lapdog.

“Who are you?”

Hannibal looked up at Abigail, “I’m Doctor Hannibal Lecter, you must be Abigail”
“Who’s the man in your lap...?”
“He’s my partner”
“Boyfriend?”
“Something of the sort, his name is Will Graham, he’s the one that saved you from your father”
“I remember him... he shot my dad”
“Do you understand why he did that though?”

Abigail paused and nodded, “he was going to kill me if he didn’t shoot him”
“That’s right, Will felt responsible for you, so he decided to come and make sure you were recovering”
“Responsible?”
“We both do, and we’d both like to look after you as you regain your strength, try and help you get back on your feet.”
“I think I’d like that”
“Excellent”



Hannibal cast the blanket onto the grass, allowing Will to sit down as he pulled out their lunch from his basket and opened a parasol to keep them cool from the summer sun.
Sandwiches, biscuits, cakes, and other treats were placed neatly around them, and Hannibal took out a bottle of wine.

“Hows this for a picnic?”
“It’s... it’s really magical”

Hannibal smiled and passed over a plate, “grilled chicken with some veggies”
“Thank you”
“Would you mind calling me that petname again?”
“What, babe?”
“Yes, that one thank you”
“Why?”
“I like the way it sounds when you say it, I think I should come up with one for you too”
“You really don’t have to-”
“Darling?”

Will went bright red and bit down on his sandwich, watching Hannibal’s face became a sly grin.

“I think I like this petname business”

Continue Reading Next Chapter

About Us

Inkitt is the world’s first reader-powered publisher, providing a platform to discover hidden talents and turn them into globally successful authors. Write captivating stories, read enchanting novels, and we’ll publish the books our readers love most on our sister app, GALATEA and other formats.