Chapter Text
Ganz nah, so weit weg von hier
So nah, weit, weit weg von dir
Ganz nah, so weit weg sind wir
So nah, weit, weit weg von mir
Very close, so far away from here
So close, far, far away from you
Very close, so far away are we
So close, far, far away from me
The mid-morning sun was warm on his shoulders as he continued his slow walk through the market. The air was fragrant with the smell of sweet citrus and fresh cut flowers. People inspected colorful produce stocked high on the carts that lined the road, exchanging worn bills for their bounty before moving on. Stepping under the shade of the cart’s flimsy canopy, Hannibal carefully looked over the rows of cucumbers. Upon seeing him, the vendor warmly extended his hand which Hannibal shook firmly with a smile. The man reached under the cart and pulled out a hidden selection of vegetables and eagerly extended them towards Hannibal.
“You are too generous, Emilio,” Hannibal said in Spanish.
The vendor shook his head.
"Nonsense,” he responded. “It is always such a pleasure to see you.”
Hannibal paid him more than necessary and thanked him again before arranging the cucumbers in the small mesh bag in his hand and turning back towards the thoroughfare. He scanned the faces in the crowd – searching – before moving to the flower stand across the cobblestone road. The bursts of color drew him in, the wooden structure dripping in vibrant pinks and purples.
Hannibal greeted the vendor and moved his nose closer to the orchids, closing his eyes as he breathed in their sweet scent.
“For the table by the front door?”
Hannibal opened his eyes at the sound of his voice, turning his head to find Will standing next to him. He was looking over the colorful petals, reaching out to gently touch one.
“The kitchen, I thought,” Hannibal answered as he motioned to the bag in Will’s hand with a quick nod of his head. “Were you successful?”
Will opened the bag hanging from his wrist and raised it towards their chests, inviting Hannibal to peer inside. Reaching in, Hannibal pulled out a pair of two wonderfully red tomatoes, connected at the top by a clipped green vine. He ran his thumb around the skin of one, feeling how it gently gave under his careful pressure.
“Perfect,” Hannibal said as he lowered them back inside the bag.
Will smiled softly and huffed, his eyes moving from the orchids to the meandering crowds. Hannibal gave the flowers in front of him one more quick glance before moving his eyes back to Will, watching as his partner scanned the people around them. The scar on his cheek was almost fully hidden by the dark beard which he’d started wearing thicker. Hannibal’s eyes moved to the spot behind Will’s ear, the soft skin fully visible as Will tended to keep his hair quite short these days.
It looked vulnerable and Hannibal felt his jaw tighten as he struggled not to place his lips there.
Instead his eyes drifted back to the nape of Will’s neck, shiny with perspiration from the morning sun. Hannibal stared at Will’s slick skin and watched as goosebumps suddenly rose. Will’s lips were slightly parted, his eyes wide as he continued to stare ahead of him; his chest had ceased its gentle rise and fall.
Hannibal followed his gaze, scanning the crowd until he spied what had caught Will’s attention.
An older man with a dark complexion and a wide brimmed hat covering his greying hair was slowly working his way through the crowd, his brown eyes scanning the wares and people of the market. His thick arms were bare and the top two buttons of his short sleeved shirt left undone. As the man continued his slow walk, Hannibal took Will’s hand and pulled, turning them both to walk in the opposite direction.
He could hear Will’s breathing close to his ear.
Hannibal walked them slowly back towards a nearby alley where – once they were out of sight – he released Will’s hand and led them through the neighboring streets slowly, his eyes scanning cars and rooftops. Neither of them spoke as they made their way back to the car. Will quickly reached his hand inside each of the wheel wells, fingers searching for any sort of tracking device while Hannibal did the same to the undercarriage and trunk.
When he was done, Will opened the doors and quickly looked through the backseat as Hannibal moved behind the wheel, starting the engine as Will came to sit at his side. He slowly pulled away from the curb and set a deliberate course for their isolated home.
“Should we be going back?” Will asked as he kept his eyes on the road in front of him. “Shouldn’t we just go?”
Hannibal seemed to consider his words before he responded.
“We can gather our things and make arrangements,” he said. “However, we should be on our way by the end of the week.”
The end of the week, Will thought.
It seemed too far away. Why not now? Why not just get on the highway and keep driving? They always kept their passports (inscribed with false names) on them as well as a decent amount of cash for exactly this reason:
In case Jack Crawford ever managed to track them down.