Alice’s Writing Blog

Every muscle ached painfully, practically begging for some sort of relief. Pleading for him to surrender to the exhaustion that wrecked through him. It took everything in Lecter to keep himself stood straight, a quiet but sharp inhale escaping him. For him that relaxation would certainly never come. He ignored his pains, eyes glancing to meet Will’s. Will looked almost as pitiful if not more so, his hand raised as he watched the blood ooze off him. It looked black in the moonlight, just as Hannibal had told him forever ago. It seemed almost silly to think of such a thing now. They stood disheveled, soaked in crimson but not regret. For the Red Dragon was slain. This was the end. Their end. The final chapter.

Each breath like a burning iron pressed to young lungs, sharp inhales and gasps were shared between them. It was intimate. Will crowded Hannibal’s space as he was pulled close, hovering over his shoulder for some semblance of comfort. Their hands lingered, threaded together before letting go. Only temporarily. The arms of the Cannibal fully embraced Will as they conversed. Tucked against his middle to keep him steady. Not daring yet to bring him much closer. They were dancing on the edge of life and death, angry waves crashing just below. It was the end for them, and they knew it.

“See? This is all I ever wanted for you, Will.” There was a long pause, his usually thick and beautiful accent muddied by the blood pouring from his wounds. It stained his lips and chin, not in a dignified manner. Though it hardly mattered. Will thought he looked beautiful even now. Disheveled. Vulnerable. Raw. This was Hannibal Lecter at his lowest and truest. It was its own masterpiece.

“For both of us.” He finished, taking a deep breath to force the words out. Every word spoken took a great deal of effort, but it would be worth it.

Will forced himself to stand a little straighter, labored breaths coming out in short pants. He was lightheaded and truthfully incredibly nauseous, but a breathless laugh escaped him. Funny how this is where they ended up.

‘It’s beautiful.’ He meant it sincerely. It was beautiful in its own way.

Their gazes lingered before Will closed the gap between them, his free hand grasping Hannibal’s shoulder before sliding upward. Though messy, they kissed with as much fever and passion as any other. Their love true and unconditional.

Hannibal noticed the subtle shift in Will’s weight as they kissed, the way he suddenly leaned forward with the remaining energy he had. Will’s arm was braced over Hannibal’s shoulder, palm splayed open against his back. They were going down together. He did not resist, leaning backward to shoulder as much of the impact as he could. His arm raised to hug around the man’s back, they would remain close. For even in their final moments, Hannibal Lecter would not let Will Graham experience more pain than what was necessary. It was burden he would rather carry. No other words needed to be spoken, no other action necessary than this. Everything had been spoken true in that kiss. All final thoughts. Their last goodbyes. All lingering ‘I Love You’s. Everything made clear as they plunged into the icy depths below. The waves lapping at their bodies greedily as they hit the surface of the water so suddenly. They would die together like a Greek Tragedy, for they were like Achilles and Patroclus.

[CALLER ID: FISK (PARTNER IN CRIME)]

For a moment the phone continued to ring, momentarily ignored by the Detective who was buried in casework. Piles of paperwork were stacked all around him, miles high and unsorted. The looming threat of deadlines never being met always hung overhead, but that was simply another day’s problem. He had too much on his plate at the moment. A eerie silence washed over him when the ring of the phone had finally ceased. Allowing his focus to return to the random thoughts that crossed his mind as he filed the paperwork. Pen scratching away absentmindedly as his focus was lost on his list of things he had to do.

What to make for dinner that evening.

When he’d go to visit Angelina next.

When he needed to do his laundry.

Some things more tedious than others, but visiting Angelina was much higher on his list of properties. It felt like ages since they last met up, though their daily text exchanges hadn’t slowed or stopped. It hardly mattered that she had moved out and was now dating someone. It remained his duty as her older brother to still check in and send reminders.

If he was being at all honest though? Mark hated Seth Baxter. He was exactly the kind of man that he didn’t want Angelina to be involved with. Trouble. Bad news. That man always made his hackles raise, near ready to snap his head from his neck at the first signs of trouble. She always insisted he was a good man, patting at her older brother’s shoulders and brushing off all his concerns.

He had his reasons though, Seth Baxter ran with a particular crowd. A crowd that Mark had spent all his life running from. All of their shared life moving away from. Though they didn’t quite share the same set of parents, different fathers but same mother, the ones that Angelina and Mark ended up with were still their own brand of awful. The two were alcoholic abusive drug addicts, and it took nearly no convincing to have them moved out and on their own. He worked day and night to provide for his sister, even if it aged him by a couple of years. She was his baby sister, and big brothers always took care of their baby sisters. Police Academy so easily came and went, and Angelina was there for every single accomplishment and milestone. The only face in the crowd he cared for, she was all he had. Same as he was all she had. He always had a sinking feeling about Seth, Baxter but he never knew just how right he’d end up being.

[CALLER ID: FISK (PARTNER IN CRIME)]

Startled out of his own daydreaming, his hand swiped a few times across the desk. Attempting to find his phone in the mounds of disorganized clutter that surrounded him. He flipped the screen open quickly, pressing the phone right against his ear.

“Hoffman.”

‘I’ll explain when you get here, but you need to come to Angelina’s.’

The other line went dead before much of anything else could be said or explained. Jacket quickly tossed over broad shoulders, keys clutched tightly in a white knuckled fist. Some sort of horrible and sinking feeling sat in the Detective’s gut, he hoped that he was wrong. He hoped that all this was a mistake.

The drive was quiet, far too quiet, but both hands grasped the edges of the wheel with a tight grip. He had no will to move either to turn the radio on. Mark wasn’t religious but for the first time ever, he silently prayed.

The scene that greeted him was unnerving, and only heightened his unease. Police Cars had swarmed the once peaceful House, an Ambulance parked beside them. Their lights were blinding, but he pushed forward with a quick stride. He practically bullied his way inside, bulky frame leaving little room for an argument, his hand tearing the caution tape down as he stormed past the Officers who surrounded the area. This couldn’t be real. This had to be some fever dream.

Where was Angelina.

Where was she.

Where’s my baby sister.

Before he could think to continue bulldozing his way through, a heavy hand smacked his shoulder. It stopped him dead in his tracks, almost like someone had slammed on their breaks. A reality check. It was Fisk.

‘Mark. I need you to look at me.’

He couldn’t. He can’t. If he did? He knew what was to come next. The painful string of words he didn’t want to hear. He didn’t want this to be real. He didn’t want any of this. This couldn’t be the end. Not her. Not this way. His eyes avoided his partner’s gaze, only continuing his march forward. There stood a crowd around the doorway to her bedroom.

Pushing himself between them his eyes fell upon the body they were gawking at. Laid with her arms spread like an angel’s wings was Angelina Acomb. Her once perfect and unblemished neck now sliced open. Blood drying against her paled skin. Her head was hung off the edge of the mattress, mouth in a tight uncomfortable line. Unhappy. These emotions seeped across all her soft features even in death. Discomfort. Fear. In a single moment, his thoughts ran a million miles a minute.

Could I have stopped this?

Could I have saved her?

What was I thinking letting her go?

Where is that sick fucking bastard?

Why wasn’t I there to help her?

Why wasn’t I here sooner?

Mark doesn’t remember when he started to scream. When the tears started to roll down his cheeks. When his shouts of disbelief had nearly deafened the Officers around him. When his cries of Angelina’s name pained those overlooking the crime scene. Several pairs of hands pulled him back, their touch suffocating. He felt like he was being held underwater, an invisible force pulling him into the dark abyss below. The sun would no longer shine down upon him. He had lost his angel.

“LET ME GO! SHE NEEDS ME. ANGELINA!

LET ME SEE HER! MY SISTER NEEDS ME!”

Silent laughter was exchanged between the two of them, metal flask passed discreetly with careful hands. Their hands pressed together tightly to conceal the metal and its contents. The fun would be ruined if they were caught. Lorelai took a quick sip of whatever Luke had poured in there, her face scrunching up at the burn. Whatever it was it was strong, but very much needed to dull the oncoming headache these meetings caused. In the back they were safe from most of the town’s gazes and glances, their relationship old news to Stars Hollow at this point. This was their newest tradition, playing silent drinking games when Town Meetings turned all topsy turvy. As of this moment they were paying witness to Kirk and Taylor brawl things out in quite the verbal altercation. No profanity yet, but Lorelai was willing to bet money it would happen sooner rather than later. It was always a treat to watch Taylor turn red in the face. Last week they had to listen to a musical rendition by Kirk, that was a doozy.

Lorelai’s voice came as a hushed whisper against the shell Luke’s ear, warm breath sending a shiver down his spine. “If they keep this up we’ll see steam come out of Taylor’s ears and a train whistle out of his mouth.” Luke gently swatted her away from him, face flushed red from her all too close contact. She looked mildly offended, mouth agape with a very exaggerated silent gasp. They were both a little more than tipsy, becoming touchy and distracted from the actual meeting itself. Especially Lorelai. Luke was far too awkward for public displays of affection, especially the risqué kind. They never knew how to behave. Luke was really trying to be on his best behavior, but that Little Missus of his was a terrible influence.

At this rate they themselves might end up caught and dragged into it, or they would be stuck here listening to the endless bickering. Either way, Luke was keen on ditching this scene like a couple of teenagers trying to skip class. His hand grabbed her own, their fingers threading together tightly. Quickly he swooped her up, pressing her against his side as he slipped them out of the side door. Lorelai erupted into laughter as they ran, her feet fumbling as she tried to catch up. His eyes rolled back affectionately, she was ridiculous. It wasn’t even her idea to run off, not totally, but he was blaming her anyways. Here they were, scampering away to safety and skipping their town obligations. They surely would hear about it next week from Taylor, but that seemed like a future Luke Danes and Lorelai Gilmore problem.

Briefly they parted ways, their hands free from the grasp they had been intertwined in. Luke haphazardly fumbled with his keys for a few all too long moments to open the Diner’s doors, strings of curses coming from mumbled huffs as he did. His hand held the door open once it was unlocked, gesturing her inside first like a true gentleman would. Lorelai slipped through the door and spun around, waiting for Luke to follow suit and relock the entrance behind them.

“I uh- wanted out of there. Can’t stand to listen to Kirk and Taylor argue, I lose a few braincells every time I do. It’s like watching two alley cats fight over the last can of tuna.” Came his fumbled excuses, which weren’t exactly untrue but they weren’t all that was on his mind. He stood there a bit stiffly, hands attempting to find something to do so he looked less awkward. Lorelai could read the room, far better than he ever could. She knew deep down what this was about, the running away and rush of it all, her mind had crossed that bridge a few sips ago. Carefully she stepped backwards, her back hitting the edge of the Diner’s counter. She gestured for him to come closer, to fill the empty space in-front of her with only his presence.

“Oh yeah, it was definitely the arguing and not you picturing me sprawled out beneath you. Or me whispering in your ear, or you picturing all those pretty sounds you like hearing. Definitely just the arguing.” She teased, glancing up at him with a sly smile. Luke looked like he was about to burst a blood vessel just thinking about it. Since when was Lorelai this filthy minded? Trick question, she always had been. She just wanted to save it for the right moment.

He caved. Their lips crashed together, rough and a little sloppy. Soft moans muffled between each kiss. Luke was too impatient to keep waiting, too turned on to play a game of cat and mouse. He just wanted her, every part and inch of her that she’d allow. Lucky for him, she’d let him have it all. She reached up to slip off his backwards baseball cap, and instead placed it on her own head. He only fell deeper in love with her everyday. Every quirk, every weird habit, all of her. He loved all of her, unconditionally.

His hands hoisted her up by the backs of her thighs as they kissed, settling her up on the counter. Calloused hand pushing her thighs apart, watching as she spread easily for him. Quickly he pulled off her tights, not being too careful with the thin fabric or where it ended up. Somewhere someone would inevitably find it later and he’d have to come up with some awful explanation for how it got there. Her heels were discarded in a similar fashion, only thing left in his way was a thin piece of lace. Taunting him. She was evil.

“You wore that on purpose.” Luke accused breathlessly, eyes glancing up from where he was crouched between her legs. He was breathing heavily, nostrils flaring just a bit.

“Me? I would never do such a thing on purpose. I just wanted to feel pretty.” Lorelai batted her eyelashes down at him, her smile all too telling of her true mischief. This had been planned and thought out carefully by her.

“You’re already pretty, the most beautiful woman to waltz into my life. You were just hoping that this would happen.”

“I plead the fifth.”

Two could play that game. Luke grasped the lace fabric, tearing it off rather effortlessly. He tossed the ruined garment somewhere with her other clothing, they would definitely have to come up with an explanation for that one.

“Luke!” She shrieked, trying to snap her legs shut quickly in response. He kept his hands firm on her thighs, head dipping between them. The warm feel of his tongue startled her, causing a full body flinch, legs quivering at the strange sensation. Luke’s hands moved forward, thumbs hooking to spread her lips apart for ease of access. He traced along her folds, lapping almost doggishly at her. She was sweet against his tongue, and far wetter than he had expected. Her breath came out quickly, her moaning breaking the silence of the empty Diner. Luke’s groans were muffled against her core, tonguing at her clit with such practiced ease. He had minimal experience but acted like a trained expert. In truth he just knew Lorelai that well.

Her hand carded through his hair, tugging at it encouragingly. If it weren’t for the shortness of the counter she would have laid back, allowing him more room to work. However they’d simply make do with what they had. Her other hand held his hat that was still on her head, keeping it from falling as she leaned backwards. Lorelai whined when his teeth grazed her clit, “Luke I-”Was all she really managed to blurt out between moans, her brain was practically fried.

She wasn’t the only one with tricks up her sleeve, Luke was full of surprises. His thumb shifted to rub circles against her puffy clit, stroking that sweet bundle of nerves as his tongue worked its worth. For a man who hated talking too much, he was good with his mouth. Lorelai was practically quivering, teetering on the edge of blissful release but trying to make the most of the moment. Who knows when they’d do something so scandalous again. He only nodded encouragingly, humming against her core as his pace increased. The vibrations were driving her up a wall, and her makeup was running through all the sweat and tears. His jaw would be a little sore in the morning, but she was well worth it.

The only warning Luke received was a very loud shout of his name followed by the most creative string of profanities that only someone like Lorelai could manage. Her thighs squeezed together, suffocating him against her core as she rode through her orgasm. Her hips grinding against his face to chase the friction, as she went limp. Slumping forward a little, she looked down at her boyfriend who was panting. Having to free himself from suffocation. Not that it would have been the worst way to go out.

“You’re loud.” Luke huffed out, teasing her for the noise despite knowing that nobody was within earshot.

“Wow…” was all he received in response, and that grin on his face only grew wider.