The Fall
The hard wind coming up from the side of the cliff, where they stood, whipped against Hannibal's shirt as he felt the weight of Will pulling him over the edge. He was quickly overwhelmed by the sheer speed at which they were falling and the objects around them becoming a blur of motion as they plummet toward the roaring waves. Their hearts beat faster and faster as adrenaline coursed through their veins. Will's arms wrap tightly around Hannibal, holding him as if he was trying to protect him from the impact.
As they continued to fall, their bodies began to pick up speed, and the wind grew louder and more intense. They felt almost weightless, as if they were floating, holding each other as the reality of their situation sunk in. The water below grew closer and more detailed and the shapes of rocks and white cap waves became clearer and more defined. Time seems to slow down as they hurtle towards the ground, and every second felt like an eternity.
“I’m sorry…,” Hannibal whispered to Will, tears streaming down his face.
“It’s not your fault.” Will smiled back at him, giving a small kiss as their bodies slammed into the waves.
_______________
Hannibal slowly opened his eyes, his head was pounding something awful and his body ached all over. He could feel the cold water lapping over his lower body, gently rocking him as he lay on the edge of the cliff’s bank. He could hear the sound of crashing waves against the side of rocks and the salty breeze stung his nose.
With a long groan, Hannibal pushed himself into a sitting position, his eyes were blurry and his thoughts were scattered. He looked around trying to make sense of what had happened and where he was. Suddenly, the image of Will’s face looking lovingly at him and then ripped from his grasp flashed across his mind. Panic washed over him as he looked frantically around for Will, but he was nowhere in sight.
Feeling horribly dizzy and disoriented, Hannibal tried to stand up, but his legs wobbled under him and he fell into the shallow water. Blinding pain shot up from his leg and he nearly passed out.
“What the hell?” He grumbled angrily as he crawled slowly out of the water and tried to make sense of what he was seeing. A piece of bone stuck out of the side of his leg and he was unable to put any pressure on it without stabbing pain.
Swearing horribly, Hannibal ripped off his tattered shirt and made a makeshift tourniquet. He looked distastefully at possibly the worst tourniquet he had ever seen in his life, but quickly refocused on finding Will. Still feeling unstable, he carefully got himself off the ground enough to where he could crawl without using his leg. Even just barely moving around was enough to wish for the sweet release of death, but he slowed his breathing and tried to focus his mind on Will.
He felt utterly and completely alone as he called out for Will, his voice echoing with no response and moved at a pathetically slow pace, but there was nothing he could do.
“Will!” Hannibal cried as he made out a small figure floating near a pile of debris. Hannibal half ran half limped toward the figure, no longer caring about the horrible pain in his leg.
As he got closer, Hannibal’s face fell. He recognized the shirt Will had been wearing and he froze, unwilling to accept what he was seeing. After a moment, he forced himself to continue as a sickening feeling rose in his stomach. His heart threatened to rip out of his chest as he flipped over the body, praying desperately that it was not Will.
His eyes widened in horror as he stared at what used to be the beautiful face of his Will. Hannibal took a few steps back, burying his face in his hands.
“No… no, no not my Will.” Hannibal sobbed, “please, not my Will!”
Hannibal’s stomach turned on him as he looked at the bloated, and discolored skin that seemed to have taken on a sickly pallor and recked up everything he had eaten in the past week and continued to dry heave until he felt like he might have barfed up his stomach itself. He had never once felt sick at the sight of a dead body, but everything felt different, like it was his first time seeing a dead body now that it was his Will who lay before him.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…” Hannibal whimpered as he pulled Will’s body toward the shore, still holding onto the slightest bit of hope that he could still be alive. It took every bit of Hannibal’s strength to get Will out of water, and he was still only halfway out of the waves.
Hannibal collapsed next to Will’s lifeless body, he shook horribly as sobs choked out of his throat and reality began to sink in; Will was dead, and there was nothing he could do to change that.
The lapping water against Will’s legs made an eerie, mournful sound as a sense of deep, endless sadness washed over him that he knew would never escape. He laid there for a long time, overcome with guilt and hate for himself. For Will, for leaving him alone. For The Dragon. For everyone.
A long painfilled groan escaped Hannibal’s mouth as he lifted himself up into a sitting position and looked at the destroyed remains of his most beloved treasure. Will’s eyes were closed, and his face bore a peaceful expression as if he were in a deep sleep, but Hannibal knew that this was no peaceful slumber.
The adrenaline that had been coursing through his veins was long gone and he quickly became aware of the horrible state his own body was in. It had been dark when they had fallen off the cliff, but now the sun was already rising and Hannibal realized he had been thrashed around in the waves and tossed onto the shore bank for a few hours and his body felt every second of it.
He knew he had to get moving or he could lose his leg, which seemed worse than dying, but it felt impossible to leave Will no matter what state he was in. Tears streamed down Hannibal’s face as he tried desperately to stand, gasping for breath between his sobs.
“...Dammit… get up,” Hannibal winced, trying to catch his breath and steady himself. “Okay… okay…”
He started to push himself up, crying out as his muscles protested against his weight. He had almost gotten himself up, when his legs gave out and he fell to the ground.
“Shit…” Hannibal muttered angrily. He took a deep breath and tried again, slowly pulling himself up. This time, he managed to stay upright, though he was weary and swaying unsteadily.
“Come on, Hannibal… get it together…” Gritting his teeth, he took a few steps forward, using a nearby tree for support. Every step felt like hell, but he continued clinging desperately to life, back up the cliff in hopes he could save himself.
______________
It felt like an eternity by the time Hannibal fell through the front door of his cabin and crawled across the floor into one of the bathrooms where he kept some medical supplies.
He had previously stocked his cupboards when he had made plans to hopefully live there with Will and Abigail.
A wave of guilt and loneliness hit him like a truck, the only two people he had wanted to spend his life with were dead, and it was all his fault. His precious, sweet Will was dead.
His vision was blurry and he couldn’t think clearly, he had never lost this much blood before and in all of the chaos he had completely forgotten about the gunshot wound in his lower abdomen from when he had been attacked by The Dragon.
Not wanting to waste anymore time as the corner of his eyes darkened, he grabbed a medical staple and began to close his stomach wound. It was bleeding far worse than his leg.
“Fuck…” Hannibal groaned as his eyes darkened and the world went black.