Chapter Text
It’s Will’s fourth morning of waking up in bed with someone, and he’s already feeling the emotional exhaustion kick in. He wonders if sleeping through this morning is acceptable. He wonders if it will pull him out of the loop, or if it just means he has an extra short go around this time.
Will had always found the movie Groundhog Day to be sort of funny. Watching a man get more and more confused and frustrated by getting stuck in a time loop had been humorous to him before. Now that it was seemingly his reality, he couldn’t find it in himself to laugh.
Will rolls over, finding himself face to face with yet another one of Hannibal’s doppelgangers, and sighs.
“I trust you slept well,” he says, brushing a lock of hair from Will’s forehead.
Will huffs. “Not really. Weird dreams,” he says. “Annoyingly persistent dreams.” He tries to ignore the warmth blossoming in his chest at the touch, or his desire to move closer.
“Would you care for a little morning distraction?” he asks softly.
Will shakes his head. “I think I just need some more rest.” He bats his lashes at the Hannibal double. “Maybe a snack?”
He laughs and kisses Will on the bridge of his nose. “You are ridiculous. I will be right back.”
Will rummages through the room while the man is gone, eventually finding an ID for the other man, naming him Mark. He finds a few other personal effects, some money, and even a gun, the latter of which does not faze him. It would be just his luck that most iterations of Hannibal are dangerous criminals with questionable pasts. He puts everything as it was and climbs back into bed just in time, seeing Mark return just as he adjusts the sheets over his hips.
“Will you do something for me?” he asks as Mark sits beside him, placing a platter of breakfast food across their thighs.
“If it involves getting back up, no,” Mark replies, pecking him on the cheek. “If you want the blackberry jam instead, you’ll have to get it yourself.”
“Harsh,” Will teases, playing along with whatever established sentiment they seem to have. The calm domesticity of the moment eases his anxiety. “Will you tell me about us? How we met, how we got here?”
Mark chuckles. “You ask like you do not know.”
“I want to hear it from you.” Will wraps a hand around Mark’s. “Please?”
Mark gives him a soft smile. Will’s heart clenches painfully. It’s only been three days, but he misses Hannibal terribly. He tries to focus on eating and listening to Mark, but now and then his words are lost, and Will is unable to focus on anything but the tone of Mark’s voice and the sparkle in his eyes. He isn’t sure where Mark is in his re-telling of their story, but he suddenly interrupts him with a kiss.
I love you, he wants to say, but the words are lodged in his throat. He can only look at Mark longingly, can only kiss him and touch him and wish that he was with Hannibal again. As lovely as each clone of Hannibal has been, the dream is becoming a nightmare.
“Are you crying?”
Will feels tears trailing down his cheeks. He tries to blink them away to no avail.
“I miss you,” he chokes out.
Mark looks confused. “But I’m right here.”
Will just smiles and sniffles, wiping the tears away. “I know. I know.”
Mark grabs the tray of breakfast and sets it aside, carefully maneuvering it so as to not spill any of the food or drink. Once it’s out of the way, he grabs Will and pulls him close, stroking his hair.
“I’m right here,” he whispers. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Will can only cry harder in response, knowing that in a few short hours he’ll walk out the door and the nightmare will begin again.
Like clockwork, they find themselves at the threshold, and Mark catches Will’s wrist to pull him back inside. Will kisses back this time, not surprised by the events anymore.
“Ik hou van je,” Mark whispers.
“Have a good day,” Will replies equally as soft.
He doesn’t even look for the pain in Mark’s eyes. He can’t take it this time. He walks out the door without another word.
Will awakens to sunlight and soft bed sheets and arms holding him close thirty more times. Over a month spent trying to make the right decision and claw his way out of this torturous loop, and he feels no closer to the end.
After Mark, Will tried to change the events, thinking that might throw him out of the loop. He would break up with the other man, tell him he hated him, say the night before was a mistake. A couple of times he left before even speaking. He would fall back asleep some mornings, but that only caused the time loop to reset again. After twenty or so failed attempts to break free, he employed a different tactic: betrayal.
Hannibal was a bad man. He was evil. He was wrong for Will. This wasn’t the universe trying to tell him they were made for each other, it was the universe giving him a chance to make the right decision before he could make a mistake and face real consequences. It was second chance after second chance to turn Hannibal in and be a good person. It was a message to Will to do the right thing, so he did.
The next version of Hannibal that Will woke up next to was bald. He had tattoos all over his body, and an arrogant demeanor that Will could tell hid deep sorrow and anger and insecurity. No matter how these doubles of Hannibal looked, they always had Hannibal’s eyes— his kind, beautiful eyes. Will got their story out of the man, pulled himself from the bed, and called the cops. The man who looked so much like Hannibal screamed and cursed at him. Angry tears ran down his face, but Will forced himself not to look at his eyes. The pain wouldn’t be real, but if Will saw it, he would give in.
It didn’t take long for Will to make out the sound of harsh knocks on the door over the yelling. The other man looked at the door, then back to Will.
“Why?!” he demanded, grabbing Will by the shoulders and shaking him. “Fucking why? After everything we…” He breathes heavily and his fingers shake as officers continue to pound on the door.
Something in Will’s check breaks. His entire body feels heavy and sore. He keeps his eyes on the floor and doesn’t say anything. He can’t.
Later, when he’s taken aside for questioning by one of the police officers, he learns his name was Tonny. He doesn’t say much when asked about his relationship to Tonny. He doesn’t know how to answer. He falls asleep at the precinct, feeling worse than ever as he drifts off.
Will awakens to dim lighting and the smell of lavender. He shivers slightly, pulling the covers over his shoulder, and feels a body pressed against his back. He opens his eyes, but there is no clock. He doesn't need one to know what time it is, though.
“Fuck.”
“There is no need for such language,” says a voice, but it isn’t coming from behind Will.
He slowly sits up, and the arm around his waist falls lifelessly to the side. Will spots a man at the end of the bed, but something about him is off. He rubs the sleep from his eyes and takes another look, then gasps when he realizes the man is floating.
Will blinks slowly, wondering if it’s just a trick his mind is playing on him. The man, yet another clone of Hannibal, is sitting with his legs crossed and a large book on his lap. He’s floating four or five feet off the ground, and he’s somewhat transparent, with a bluish glow to his form. He turns his head and looks at the body next him, still warm and exactly the same as the apparition at the foot of the bed.
“Holy shit.”
“I really must insist that you—”
“Are you dead?” Will asks. “Please tell me you’re not dead.”
The apparition disappears, and suddenly the body beside him moves. “You have seen me do this before—”
Will tackles the other man and hugs him tightly. “Thank God,” he says. “You can do magic. Thank fucking God , I’m not crazy.”
The man makes a face. “You know how I feel about that expression.”
Will pulls away. “I don’t,” he says. “I don’t know anything about you. I don’t even know your name.”
“I have never understood your sense of humor.”
Will groans. “This isn’t a joke. I’m not the man you think I am, and you’re not Hannibal. I’ve been stuck in some fucking cycle, every day I wake up next to another man that looks like Hannibal and I… Shit, I don’t even know what’s going on or how to stop it, but I’m so, so tired. I don’t even know how many days it’s been and I feel like I’m losing my mind and you were fucking floating at the end of the bed , please tell me I’m not crazy.”
The other man blinks. After a long pause, he says, “My name is Kaecilius. We are both students of the Ancient One. We have both lost our families to tragedy—”
“He has,” Will interrupts. “The version of me that you know. That’s his story, not mine. I don’t have his memories.”
Kaecilius cups Will’s cheek. “You look just like him.” His thumb strokes along his cheekbone. “Where is he?”
“I don’t know. But he should return when I leave. I’m not sure what happens in the time loops after I move on, if they reset or if they continue how I left them… But I think you can help me. Please.”
“I will try, for both of us. May I see your memories?” Kaecilius asks, his hands moving to Will’s temples. “I need your permission to enter your mind, and I need to see what has happened if I am to fully understand it.”
“You have my permission.” Will takes this moment of having Kaecilius in such close proximity to study him. He reaches out and tucks a stray lock of hair behind his ear, shocked to see how long it is. “Your hair is beautiful like this.”
Kaecilius blushes in response, but says nothing. He presses his forehead to Will’s, and Will’s vision blurs. After what seems like only a moment, Kaecilius pulls away, and Will’s head swims.
“The nausea will subside,” he whispers. “It is the cost of combing through the mind. Had I been in there any longer, you would have fallen ill.”
Will leans forward, resting his head on Kaecilius’s shoulder. “What did you see?”
“I saw you,” he replies. “I saw you over thirty-four days, with thirty-four men who all looked like me. I saw you love them, leave them, betray them… You are desperate.” He is silent for a moment, then, “Will you kill one of us next?”
“No!” Will pulls away as if he’s been burned. “No, I couldn’t do that, I wouldn’t do that.”
“But you already have. Your betrayal condemned some of them to death in their timeline. Or, it will, should their timeline continue.”
Will begins to feel sick. “I just want it to stop. I don’t know what to do.”
“Which is what brought you here in the first place. You don’t know what to do. But what is it that you want , Will?”
“I can’t have that. It’s wrong. I can’t—”
“What do you want, Will?” Kaecilius demands, voice louder this time.
“Hannibal!” Will screams back. “I want Hannibal! I want to leave with him! I…” Will’s shoulders shake and he begins to cry again. “I miss him so much. I just want to wake up next to him. I want another chance, even if it means I can’t be with him. I want to tell him… I want to tell him I love him.”
Kaecilius takes Will into his arms, gently rubbing his back and shushing him. “This is not forever, Will. You will find the right path, and whatever force that is keeping you trapped will release you.”
“I can’t keep waiting. I can’t keep looking and guessing and trying and failing. I can’t fucking do this anymore.”
“But you have to. It is the only way to stop this. You have to find the right path, Will.”
“I’ve tried everything, there is no right path ,” he replies, pulling back and wiping his eyes. “There’s no other path left.”
“Have you tried doing what you want?”
Will goes silent.
“You should—”
“I shouldn’t. It’s wrong.”
“You love him.”
“But I don’t know if he loves me.” Will lets out another frustrated noise. “I just wish he had said something, or that one of these copies of him had something. Just once. One little fucking sign.”
“Was a proposal not enough of a sign?” Kaecilius asks sarcastically. “Or breakfast in bed? Or leaving his wife? Or asking you to run away with him and leave everything that both of you knew behind?”
“I…” Will runs a hand through his hair and curses. “I know. Fuck, I know, but I just… I need to hear him say it.”
Kaecilius cups Will’s face. “We already have,” he says, which earns him a confused look. Kaecilius smiles in return. “Ma timi`lai dherai man paraauchu,” he whispers, before pressing a soft kiss to Will’s mouth.
Will’s vision goes black.