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orange is for what I mainly write for !

hello! i'm lucas / colby . if you're interested in skz x reader (typically gn reader) then you can find my works on @hwangxmoons and my main @lunar-lix . i'm multifandom and willing to write or try to write for a lot of things. mainly write fluff or angst.

some fandoms i will write for are : 911 , law and order svu , criminal minds , hannibal , cod , karate kid , lab rats , descendants , jujutsu kaisen ( yuji , megumi , gojo ) , scooby doo , tmnt , stray kids , stranger things , marvel ,

ships i may write for : lawrusso ( #1 ) , buddie ( buck x eddie ) , moreid ( morgan x reid ) , hannigram ( hannibal will ) , gazprice , chaz ( chase x kaz ) , harry x carlos , jay x carlos , steddie , sambucky , stonathan , johnny x dutch ,

Tags :

#luc.writes - my works

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JOHNNY WAS halfway through his third beer when the dizzy feeling settled in. He stumbled his way through the kitchen and out to the backyard. He hung his legs off the porch, inhaling the fresh air. It was too hot and way too crowded inside. He lay his cheek against his knee, eyes closing.

"Not the best place to sleep, Johnny." Dutch dropped down beside him, knocking against him. He smelled like vodka and oranges.

Johnny tilted his head just enough to look at him. "Not sleeping jus' restin' my eyes," He mumbled.

Dutch wrapped his arm around Johnny's shoulders and tugged him closer. His lips curled into the familiar smirk Johnny was used to seeing. "No I think you're tired. Getting too old to handle a party, hm?"

He rolled his eyes at Dutch's teasing, choosing to smack the boy's arm. "We're the same age asshole."

Dutch laughed, rubbing at his arm. "Well, drinking doesn't hinder your strength." He bumped their shoulders together. "Come on, we can go to my place. It will be quieter and have a better drink menu." Johnny truly wanted to be somewhere quieter, so he found himself agreeing.

Together the two left, a slight stumble in their steps as they walked. A breeze picked up, nipping at their exposed skin. Johnny could feel the blush settling on his face, cheeks bright pink.

Dutch shifted closer to him, his hand bumping against Johnny's. "S'cold.." He mumbled. Neither boy said anything as their fingers entwined. Dutch began to ramble about some comic he started. Though Johnny had a hard time focusing on his words. All he could focus on was Dutch's hand in his. It felt right. Their hands fit together so well. It was different compared to Allie's. Her hand was smaller and softer. Her nails were always perfectly done, coated in a pretty pink. Dutch's hand was bigger, rougher due to karate and all the fights he had been in. He could feel the raised skin from scars along the back of his hand. Yet he liked it. He liked holding Dutch's hand. Was he weird because of that? Dutch was one of his closest friends. He couldn't possibly like him.

"Johnny? Hello, earth to Johnny!" A smack to his shoulder had him returning to focus. He blinked at Dutch, glaring slightly. The other shrugged, smiling innocently. "What? You weren't answering. But we're here man."

Johnny looked up to the large house before them. The lights were on at the door but no car was seen. "My gran is on a trip. Just us here," Dutch explained. Johnny couldn't decide if that was a good or bad thing yet.

He followed Dutch up the steps and inside. They kicked their shoes off at the door, Johnny left his neatly while Dutch left them sprawled out. Dutch led the way down the hall to the kitchen. He pulled a bottle from a cabinet shelf then turned to Johnny with that signature grin of his. One that usually meant trouble. "C'mon, I got something else too."

Johnny found himself in Dutch's bedroom sprawled on the floor as a movie played in the background. A blunt was passed back and forth between them. Johnny didn't smoke often, usually, he only did it with Dutch or Tommy. He had always preferred drinking. So his tolerance was low. The bottle of alcohol was eventually abandoned as the fuzzy feeling took over. He slumped back against the floor, tucking his arm under his head.

Dutch took the blunt to finish it off. His back was pressed against the bed, eyes looking down at Johnny. "Lightweight," he teased.

Johnny rolled his eyes, puffing out a breath. "Shut up," he mumbled. He shifted onto his side to look up at Dutch. "I don't understand how you can do that so much."

Dutch took a long drag, leaning down to blow the smoke into Johnny's face. His lashes fluttered, nose crinkling up. Dutch watched him. He had been doing that a lot lately. Johnny, no matter what, was constantly gaining his attention. "You're pretty." It was out before he could even think to stop himself. Johnny's eyes were back on him, wide with shock. Dutch took a moment before realizing what he did. Words stumbled incoherently from his lips trying to save himself. Johnny's laughter had him going quiet.

Johnny was smiling at him. His eyes were glazed but knowing. "You think I'm pretty Dutchy?" He fluttered his lashes intentionally.

The other boy groaned quick to look away. "You suck Johnny."

"And you think I'm pretty. Am I handsome too?"

He was teasing. Dutch knew he was yet he still found himself answering truthfully. He nodded. "Yeah, extremely so."

Johnny paused, eyes looking searchingly at Dutch. He knew Dutch was being honest but what did this mean? Where could it lead? "You mean it Dutch?"

He nodded, "I do."

Silence fell over them. Dutch looked away, twisting the bud between his fingers. He was scared. It was rare to see on Dutch. Johnny didn't like it. He shuffled to sit up, copying Dutch to lean back against the bed. He pressed their shoulders together. "I think you're handsome too," he confessed.

Dutch looked at him. "Yeah?"

CHASE WASN'T scared of dogs. Seriously he wasn't. They were just too big and weird-looking. He'd never seen one up close before, especially one this big. He pulled his legs closer to himself where he sat perched on the kitchen counter. "Kaz why is that in here!?" He totally didn't flinch when the dog looked his way.

Kaz laughed, hand petting behind the dog's ear. "Rufus is a good boy Chase. I'm just petting sitting for the weekend while my brother is out of town. He won't bite. Well, maybe a friendly nibble." Chase's fearful expression had him chuckling again. "I'm joking. Seriously man he won't do anything. The only danger he possesses is a wagging tail."

He stepped closer to Chase, holding out a hand. "Trust me, I won't let anything happen to you."

Chase stared at the offered hand then at the dog. Hesitantly he reached out to take Kaz's hand. He shuffled off the counter following Kaz. He stayed behind him as Kaz directed Rufus to sit. The dog obediently listened and sat. His tongue hung out as he panted.

Kaz pulled him closer directing Chase's hand to Rufus's head. "Just relax, he won't hurt you. He's just a big baby really." Chase wasn't sure who Kaz's words were directed at.

Slowly he unfurled his fingers, hesitantly stroking along Rufus's head. The dark fur was soft below his fingertips. A soft thumping reached his ears. He looked behind Rufus to see his tail thumping against the floor. He began to relax, scratching behind Rufus's ears. The dog barked lowly. "He's happy," Kaz explained, smiling. "He likes you!"

Chase looked from Rufus to Kaz. His own lips tipping into a smile. "I guess he isn't so bad. Still don't like dogs but he's okay."

Rufus tipped his head up, pressing his wet snout into Chase's hand. He thought it was kinda gross but somewhat cute. Rufus wasn't too bad after all.

-

Later that evening, Chase found himself walking beside Kaz. His hands were stuffed in his pockets while Kaz held Rufus's leash. The chilly October air nipped at his exposed skin, yet for once he didn't seem to mind. He found himself enjoying his time as they walked through the park. Rufus was eagerly stopping every moment to sniff at anything that caught his attention, which included trying to chase after squirrels. Chase thought it was funny watching Kaz have to run after him.

Eventually, they returned home, noses and cheeks pink yet both still smiling. Kaz sat up a corner for Rufus and fed him while Chase cooked for them. They got comfortable on the couch, eating as a movie played. Rufus eventually joined them. He flopped across the couch, his head resting on Chase's lap with his snout pressing against his belly. Chase idly scratched and petted him. Maybe dogs weren't too bad after all.

-

The weekend passed faster than Chase liked. It was now Sunday afternoon and Kaz's brother would be coming to take Rufus back. Chase didn't think he'd be upset about it. He should've been glad he wouldn't have dog hair all over the place anymore, yet he wasn't. He looked down at Rufus, who was lying on his lap again. It had become his favorite place to lie it seemed. He frowned down at Rufus. "Gonna miss you, boy." He whispered, scratching behind his ear. Rufus whined lowly. Chase chose to believe that was his way of saying he'd miss him too.

He watched as Rufus left alongside Kaz's brother. Kaz was quick to notice his dejected look. He always noticed everything when it came to Chase. "Y'know Chase dogs are considered great for morale. Being heroes can be pretty stressful. I think a furry friend would be great for the team. Think of it as a good mental help."

Chase rolled his eyes, already knowing what Kaz was trying to do. "I doubt Mr. Davenport would allow a dog in his building."

Kaz shrugged, lips curled into a smirk. "Well he isn't always here, plus it's the least he could do for us. Y'know after everything we do."

Chase shook his head, but it was clear he was thinking about it. "We'll see."

WATER RUSHED over their bare feet mixing with the warm sand. Johnny hummed quietly next to Dutch. It was a familiar rock song but Dutch couldn't recall the name.

"Dutch?" Johnny called, breaking the silence.

The blonde turned to him, a questioning look appearing. The smile on Johnny's lips was soft, yet his eyes held a faraway look to them.

"Yeah, Johnny?" His eyes remained on Johnny, yet Johnny's eyes stayed staring off at the ocean.

"Remember a couple of years ago when we snuck some of Tommy's brother's weed?" Dutch nodded, confused about why Johnny was bringing that up. "We came out here and smoked just the two of us. I think we were sitting right here."

That quirked-up smile was still on his lips. "We got pretty messed up that night. Ended up sleeping out here." He laughed. "Do you remember what happened Dutch?"

Dutch thought back on that night. He remembered sitting in the sand, and at some point, he had lost his shoes. Johnny and he were there for a long time, just passing the blunt back and forth. They eventually ended up sparring together which led to them tackling each other in the water. He remembered tripping and Johnny landing on top of him. It was like time had frozen. Dutch couldn't look away from Johnny and it looked to be the same for Johnny. Dutch couldn't remember who leaned in first but he remembered how soft Johnny's lips were. How he was warm against him despite them both being soaked in salt water. Johnny had tasted like weed and strawberries. He wondered if he still did.

"I remember." He whispered.

Johnny finally turned to look at him. There was a certain look on his face but Dutch couldn't name it. "Do you regret it?"

Warmth spreaded through Dutch and over his cheeks. He shook his head, "No." He confessed.

His posture relaxed. "Neither do I." He looked down at Dutch's lips then back to his eyes. "I know we're sober right now but can we?"

Dutch grinned, "Wouldn't say no to that ever Johnny." He shifted closer to him, lifting a hand to cup Johnny's cheek. His skin was warm beneath his hand. Their lips met. It was slow and hesitant at first. It took a moment for confidence to grow. Their lips met firmer, and Johnny tugged him closer by his shirt. By the time they broke apart, they were both panting. They had matching grins. "You still taste like strawberries," Dutch muttered.

IT WAS ironic really. Here Johnny sat on his bathroom floor, a trash can full of different pink and yellow flowers with specks of blood. He had lost Allie, lost the all valley to a fresh loser, and lost his dojo. He had nothing left. Yet the world still kept torturing him. But maybe he deserved it. He had spent the last near decade being a bully. He had targeted anyone whom he thought was below him, making their lives a living hell. He was a bully, a complete asshole. Maybe this was his karma. Because that's all it could be. There was no way he could have actually liked Daniel. Daniel was a boy. A small childish loser who just happened to have a decent ( decent ) kick.

Johnny wasn't a fag. He was a straight man. He was a man no matter what Sid or Sensei Kreese said or did. No Johnny didn't like men and he certainly didn't like Daniel LaRusso. He didn't care what these petals implied. They were just wrong.

-

It was Monday, the second week after the All Valley tournament, and the first day he'd return to school since it happened. Johnny was nervous but he wouldn't show it. He was Johnny Lawrence, a Cobra. Cobras showed no fear. But was he really a Cobra still? Johnny refused to think about it but the question was there anyway.

He tugged tighter on his bag straps as he entered the school. He felt eyes watching him. He could feel their piercing gazes eyeing the bruise wrapping around his neck. Kreese hadn't gone easy on him, but he never did before either. He kept his head held high, acting as if nothing was wrong. He stopped at his locker to switch his books, soon to be surrounded by his friends.

"Johnny? You okay man?" Bobby asked. He knew Bobby would be the first to speak up. He had always been the morning caring one of the group. He was probably the only one who somewhat had his shit together out of them.

Johnny turned to face his friends, nodding. "Yeah, man. It's just a bruise. Not that big of a deal."

The four boys shared a look. It was a big deal in reality. Kreese was their Sensei. The man who taught them all they knew. It was his job to teach them and help them grow. Yet all he did was turn five boys into asshole bullies with trauma. They had trusted Kreese with their lives and he betrayed them all. He had beaten them before and now nearly killed Johnny. The dark bruise stuck out noticeably on Johnny's neck. A stark reminder of how the man he trusted more than anything nearly took his life. It was a memory none of them would forget. No matter how much they tried, they'd always remember.

Dutch broke the silence throwing his arm around Johnny's soldier. Leave it to Dutch to always lighten the mood. "Well, Johnny boy does that mean you'll join us at the beach tonight for a little relaxation?" He pretended to smoke then blow it out.

Johnny found himself rolling his eyes yet a small grin appeared. "Sure man. Sounds like a great idea."

-

The day had passed smoothly which Johnny was thankful for. He could handle the stares but he was glad he didn't see LaRusso. He wasn't sure he could handle that yet.

"Johnny come on man!" Jimmy shouted.

Johnny rolled his eyes but quickened his pace. Sand kicked up around him, slipping into his sandals. He dropped down beside Bobby and quickened them off. He dug his feet into the sand as the blunt was passed around the group. Johnny took a long inhale once it reached him then slowly let it out. After a few more hits he began feeling a little fuzzy. It was what he needed.

-

They had piled into Bobby's car after a couple of hours had passed. The group wasn't ready to split just yet. Bobby had driven them to his place. They tried to keep as quiet as possible as they stumbled into his room. Jimmy and Tommy stifled their laughter as best as they could when Dutch nearly tripped going up the stairs. Bobby was quick to shush them. "You're gonna wake everyone up shush!"

Johnny was the first to drop down onto the bed, sprawled comfortably out. It was nice to feel like a regular kid for once but he knew it wouldn't last long. It never did.

They took turns changing in Bobby's bathroom, stealing his clothes to wear for the night. Tommy and Jimmy piled onto the blow-up mattress, Dutch crashed on the floor like he usually did, curled around one of Bobby's pillows. Johnny took the bed, squishing in beside Bobby. His warmth spread to Johnny, warming his chilled body. It made Johnny feel sleepy with the weed already in his system. He soon drifted off like everyone else.

-

It was the early hours of the morning, barely half past three when Johnny suddenly woke up. A scratchy feeling was crawling up his throat. He felt like he was choking. It was if he was being strangled from the inside. He stumbled out of bed in a panic, nearly tripping over Dutch as he hurried to the bathroom. He dropped hard onto his knees in front of the toilet. He barely got the seat up before brightly colored petals burst from his lips like a waterfall. He coughed and gagged. His stomach clenched and his throat spasmed. Tears clouded his vision but he could see the specs of red as full flowers fell from his lips. Was it getting worse? It hurt more than before.

He slumped against the toilet, blood dripping from his lips. He felt exhausted now.

"Johnny?"

His eyes shot up to see a panicked Dutch. His eyes were fearful as he looked at Johnny.

"Shit Dutch-" he tried to stand but he was too weak. "I-It's not what it looks like man-"

Dutch scoffed, eyes slightly narrowed. "It's exactly what it looks like Johnny! Why didn't you tell us?" His anger came and left quickly. His shoulders slumped.

Guilt pooled into Johnny's gut, feeling heavy like stones. "I wasn't gonna tell anyone.." he confessed. He looked away unable to meet Dutch's eyes.

The blonde sighed. Johnny could hear him step closer before sitting beside him. He didn't resist as Dutch pulled him against him. His arms wrapped tightly around Johnny. It felt weird at first. Johnny wasn't sure if they ever hugged before but it felt nice. He hugged him back just as tight. The two stayed clinging together. They don't know how long they stayed there but eventually they pulled apart. Dutch was quiet as he helped clean Johnny up each movement of his gentle and sweet. It was out of character for Dutch but Johnny didn't voice it or tease him. He just let Dutch do what he needed.

The two returned to the bedroom this time Dutch joining them in the bed. Bobby didn't say anything just made more room for them. They pressed together, Dutch holding Johnny a little tighter. "You gotta tell them, Johnny." He whispered.

He nodded. "I'll try.."

-

It was quieter than usual the following morning, especially for Dutch. The other boys eyed them curiously as they sat down for breakfast. Eventually, Tommy was the first to voice it. "Alright, what the fuck happened? Why are you both so quiet?"

Dutch looked to Johnny. "You gotta tell them, Johnny. This is serious."

They weren't used to seeing Dutch being serious. They were all immediately on edge. "What's wrong Johnny?" Bobby asked, his voice betraying his nervousness.

That was all it took for Johnny to spill. He told them everything. From the time it started till last night. By the end he was breathing heavily, the familiar itchy feeling returning to his throat. The boys weren't much better. All wet eyes with varying upset expressions.

"Johnny, are you gonna die?" Jimmy asked. Dutch punched his arm roughly.

Johnny though just shrugged. "There's no cure."

Heartbroken looks showed on all of them. Johnny had been one of their friends since childhood. They couldn't imagine losing anyone from their group. Tears fell from multiple eyes followed by sniffles.

"We'll stick together till the end Johnny. We Cobras always stay together. We'll make sure no matter what that if these are your last days we'll make them good!" Dutch declared.

Johnny rubbed at his eyes, a smile quirking up despite the sad moment. "Becoming a sap Dutchy." He teased.

The other boy rolled his eyes as the others snickered. "Shut it Johnny or I'll speed it up for ya." Johnny laughed.

DEATH FOLLOWED Bucky everywhere he went. It started when he was eighteen and was drafted into the army. Before that the only death he knew was of his grandma. She had passed from old age. It had broken him. She was the closest person he was to besides Steve. Though it all changed the day he got his draft letter.

Bucky was nineteen when he first saw war take a life. He was trapped beside a fellow soldier, Avery, as gunfire rained down on them. He clutched at his gun, fear coursing through him. Avery squeezed his hand. "Don't let fear take you, kid. You gotta be brave, alright? I'll cover you."

And he did. He saved Bucky's life. Bucky couldn't save his. He'd never forget the feeling of warm blood soaking his fingers as he tried to stop the blood from pouring out of Avery's stomach. Tears filled his eyes till he could barely see, yet Avery squeezed his hand again. "You're a good kid, Barnes. Don't let war take you." He slipped a photograph into Bucky's pocket. It was a smiling Avery standing next to a woman with two little kids in front of them. Bucky cried harder after finding it. He cried again at Avery's funeral. Two little kids with teary eyes were clutching at a woman's dress. Bucky hated war. He kept the photo.

Bucky saw several more men die as the days, months, and years went by. He lost fellow soldiers, friends, men he considered family. He hated war.

Then Steve managed to join. Bucky didn't understand why he wanted to. Bucky hated it. He hated being a soldier. Hated witnessing war and seeing people die. He'd never understand why Steve wanted to be in this. Though it became more manageable. He had his brother beside him. The one person he could confide in.

Bucky was barely in his late twenties when it happened. They were on a train. He was fighting alongside Steve and then it happened. He was hanging off the train, high up above the snowy ground. He looked at Steve. There was fear in his eyes. He reached for him, tried to save him. He didn't. Bucky fell.

Years would pass. All Bucky would know was pain. His years of the past were forgotten. Forced to no longer matter or exist. He was no longer Bucky. He was the Winter Soldier. A pawn of brutal strength and bloodied hands. He was no longer a soldier watching his friends die. He was now the killer shedding blood wherever his feet touched ground.

Years passed. It was the same routine of pain and kill. It was all the soldier knew. All he was allowed. Because he wasn't human. He was just a thing used to accomplish means.

Then things changed again. He wasn't just the Winter Soldier. He was Bucky too. He was Bucky Barnes and Steve, his best friend, his brother, was with him again. He studied, he leaned, he began to remember.

He was Bucky, but he'd always be the Winter Soldier too. He may have been able to forget his past as Bucky when he was the Soldier, but he couldn't forget the Soldier when being Bucky again. The Winter Soldier would always be a part of him. Bucky hated war, he hated the Soldier, and he hated himself.

Sam Wilson. Bucky didn't like him at first. He thought he had been replaced. But he understood. Sam was a soldier too. He was better than Bucky. Bucky was a killer. Death followed him wherever he went. Sam was better than him. He understood why Steve liked him.

Steve was gone. Sam was there. Bucky was lost. He had gotten his brother back then lost him again. He was an enemy, a traitor to everyone. Sam was still there though. They fought and argued constantly, yet Sam still stayed. Bucky was starting to like him. Maybe Sam wasn't too bad.

Sam wasn't bad at all. He was by Bucky's side. He defended him. He protected him. Bucky trusted Sam. He cared for him more than anything. Bucky didn't have much anymore, but he'd give it all to keep Sam safe. No matter what it was, he'd give it.

-

It was Friday night, half past twelve when Bucky woke up. He fumbled, waking in a panic. He rolled right out of bed, tangled in his blanket. His hair stuck to his forehead, soaked in sweat. Each breath was ragged, stinging in his chest. He clawed at his skin leaving angry red scratches. He wanted out. He needed out!

"Bucky? Buck!"

Sam's panicked call of his name had him snapping to attention. His chest jerked with each gasping breath. His eyes were wild like as he stared at Sam. He looked like a panicked animal ready to dash away.

Sam held his hands out in front of him as he sat down on the floor. He kept space between them so Bucky didn't feel caged. He kept his hands up so Bucky could see them. "Buck? You with me man?"

It took a moment but he nodded. His eyes never left Sam's. He was on edge.

Sam didn't move closer or leave. He stayed. He'd stay as long as it took. He filled the silent room with random chatter. He knew Bucky didn't need silence right now. He always seemed to know what Bucky needed. Bucky was grateful for him. He always would be.

Time passed, and Bucky began to relax. He wasn't as stiff, his shoulders slumping down. He crumpled back against the bed, slumping into himself.

"Can I come closer, Buck?" Sam eventually asked. Bucky hesitantly nodded.

Sam stayed in Bucky's line of sight as he moved closer. He sat beside him, pressing his back against the bed. Their shoulders touched, but Bucky welcomed it. Sam felt warm. Bucky liked the warmth.

THE SKY was a dark purple, swallowing up everything in sight. The waves crashed violently into the rocks, breaking pieces with each hit. Anything that fell was washed away becoming forgotten. Bobbing below the waves was a man. Will's arms flung around in desperate movements fighting to stay up. With each gasping breath water filled his parted lips.

He looked up to the sky. It was dark with a few stars beginning to shine. It was beautiful. If he wasn't so caught up with trying to keep his head above the water he would've laughed. To die below a full moon and a sky full of dazzling stars. Was this his becoming? If he let himself sink below the darkness would he burst through anew?

- - -

His legs kicked beneath him though he was growing tired. He tried to look around for Hannibal. He even called out for him. Yet his words were drowned out, no response to be heard. Maybe Hannibal was gone. Maybe he managed to escape. Will didn't know. Though he wasn't worried anymore. This was his demise. He no longer had to fear what he would become if he just seized to be anything. He could be washed away, his sins taken away with him. All he had to do was let go.

His legs slowly stilled. His arms went limp, floating beside him. He tilted his head back, eyes to the sky. He looked upon the bright stars as he dipped lower and lower. Maybe he would join those bright stars, shining alongside them. The waves wrapped around him like a blanket as he slipped away in their embrace.

- - -

The smell of burning wood tickled his nose. He scrunched his nose, clenching and unclenching his fingers. Soft silk sheets pressed against his bare skin. He cracked an eye open, blinking slowly as his eyes adjusted. He pushed himself up eyes searching around. He was alive was the first thing he noticed. He wanted to ask how but knew he already knew the answer. Only one person could have made sure he survived that. He didn't want to think of why.

He twisted around, dropping his legs off the side of the bed. The springs of the bed whined below him with each movement. He tried to stand but his vision swam and his stomach churned. He found himself on his knees, his stomach emptying into the trash can conveniently beside the bed. The taste of salt water burned his throat. He gagged and heaved till nothing was left.

He slumped back against the bed, legs sprawled in front of him. The metal edge of the bed pushed into his back. Will found himself pushing back into it, embracing the sting that followed.

"Ah you're awake."

Will wished it was another hallucination but knew it wasn't. He looked up to see Hannibal. The older man was already looking back eyeing him over. There was a gash on his cheek stitched together and a few noticeable bruises. Hannibal more closer with a slight barely noticeable limp. Will watched him curiously.

"Where are we Dr. Lecter?"

Hannibal's lips quirked into a small smile. He settled into a nearby chair that Will hadn't noticed before. "Somewhere safe."

"Safe from who?"

Hannibal didn't respond. He glanced to the trash can beside Will then back to Will. He was pale, curls soaked with sweat. His glasses still laid on the bed side table. He tilted his head. "How are you feeling Will?"

He tipped his head back against the bed, eyes blinking up at the ceiling. The roof was made of wood logs. They were in a cabin, but where? How long was he out?

"Like I nearly died but didn't. Why didn't you leave me?"

Silence settled briefly. Will began to wonder if Hannibal would ever answer. Then he did.

"You cannot wash away who you are Will. You must embrace it. Let it consume you. Allow it to be awakened fully."

Will didn't respond. His eyes stayed on the ceiling, wishing it was still the stars he was watching. Hannibal wasn't wrong, which Will hated. Everything was a wreck. Will was a wreck. His childhood dream was to be something, to help others. He wasn't that boy anymore. He had strayed off the lightened path, instead taking a dark road where light was unseen. He could argue, tell Hannibal he was wrong. That he wasn't like him. That he was good, but would it even matter? He had already chosen his path. He chose his side the moment he slayed the dragon. He was awakened by the blood of a dragon and a single embrace. It was set in stone when they tipped over and came out from the water anew together.

He looked away from the bare ceiling to look at Hannibal. He was already looking at him. Though had he ever not? Will wasn't sure. He didn't speak but he was asking, What now? What would they do now?

Hannibal relaxed back into his chair, hands folded on his lap. There was that familiar twinkle in his eyes. "We do whatever we want. We heal, we move, we settle. Whatever you desire, my dear Will."