Réciprocité || Will [imaginarykilling]
It had been no trouble, of course. When Will had asked him to feed his dogs while he was away to visit a crime scene for the FBI, Hannibal had all but jumped at the chance. He had had several things in mind when he agreed. Firstly, Will was his friend, or rather something akin to it, something that might turn into friendship later on, and doing him a favour would certainly work in Hannibalâs interest if that was something he should desire. Secondly, getting a chance to inspect Willâs living arrangements undisturbed and unhindered would most likely prove to be an interesting opportunity.
It had. He had felt no surprise at his findings in Willâs home, of course, but it had been an educational journey nevertheless. He had had his suspicions before, but now that he had seen the minimalist lifestyle with his own eyes, it was easier to grasp somehow who Will was behind his empathy. It was⊠fascinating, in a way.
He voiced his thoughts more subtly when he asked about Willâs upbringing. His home had been chaotic, almost. Cluttered. Simple. A bunch of dogs and books covering close to every surface. It had also been empty. Barren. No discernible personal belongings, no sentiment. Had Will even read the books? He would have liked to know. The house had left the impression of an intricate illusion. Homely at first glance, but once inspected closer, it was as if no one was living thereâ a shell. Ownerless belongings and neatly folded clothing hidden between half-emptied liquor bottles. The most honest thing about the house, he suspected.
Willâs answers to his prodding left him with a sense of satisfaction at having seen what Will wouldnât tell him. There was a definite lack of belonging, a thread that had run through his entire life. Solitude. Chosen or forced, Will was alone. He could sympathise with that.
âThere is still time left. Would you like to talk about something unrelated to the case? Or are Jack Crawford and the FBI calling?â
