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Alana takes a deep breath, then knocks on the door with feigned confidence. She doubts her plan will work, but she has to try. Hannibal answers almost immediately.
"Ah, Dr. Bloom! What a lovely surprise! I'm afraid you've missed Will. He's at the bank, setting our affairs in order. Do please come in."
Hannibal dressed down is still fancier than many men are at their own weddings. He's wearing two pieces of a three piece suit: matching vest and trousers, no tie, pale blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Alana briefly tries to imagine him wearing a t-shirt and cut-off shorts and has to swallow a grimace.
"As you can see, we're quite busy with our packing, but there is always time to say goodbye to an old friend. Please, sit. May I offer you something to drink?"
"No, thank you. I can't stay. I need to talk to you. It's about Will."
Hannibal twinkles genially at her. "Will is one of my very favorite subjects, but you appear quite troubled. What is the matter?"
Alana stands up at the kitchen table and places one hand on her hip. "I don't think you should take Will to Argentina with you. I know he'll go wherever you ask him to, so I want you to ask him to stay in D.C."
Hannibal raises his eyebrows calmly and pours himself a cup of tea. "Are you sure I can't offer you any? It's lemon, very refreshing."
Alana shakes her head and presses her hands flat against the table.
"He's already so isolated here! I mean, he never looks anyone in the eye except for you, he hardly talks to Jack or I unless you're there. Now you're taking him to another country, where he won't know anyone. My god, does Will even speak Spanish?"
Sipping at his tea, Hannibal no longer looks amused. "I believe he took Spanish at university. But that is hardly your main concern. You doubt my ability to look after him. Tell me, Alana, have you ever seen him look healthier? He eats, he sleeps, he rarely suffers from headaches."
"But it's all you! You feed him, you sleep with him, you talk for him! Hannibal, what is he supposed to do when you're gone? He needs to learn to live on his own!"
Hannibal pins her with his cold eyes. "Once again, I find we have a difference of professional opinion. I believe William will benefit from a change of scenery, a little sun and sea. And I knew from the moment I met him that all he truly needed was a firm hand to guide him."
"And I," he smiles now, spreading his large hands widely, "happen to have very firm hands."
"Is that-- are you seriously making innuendos right now? This is not a joke, Hannibal!"
The screen door bangs, and Will shuffles in. He's wearing a cashmere sweater, obviously Hannibal's, with the sleeves rolled up to reveal his narrow wrists.
"Oh, hey, Alana. What're you doing here?" He doesn't wait for an answer, instead turning to Hannibal, tipping his chin up for a kiss. Hannibal answers with a bite, making Will laugh and Alana cringe. She tries not to notice the other bite marks decorating Will's pale neck.
"They wouldn't let me transfer the money without your signature, and apparently they close early on Tuesdays, so we're gonna have to go back tomorrow."
For a moment, Hannibal's eyes grow frighteningly dark, then he huffs good-naturedly. "Ah, bureaucracy. Dr. Bloom just came by to wish us luck on our trip."
Will glances toward Alana, but speaks again to Hannibal. "We should give her some of the sausage! There's no way we'll be able to eat it all ourselves, and we can't take it all with us."
Hannibal smiles fondly at him. "You are right, of course. Entertain our guest for a moment." To Alana, he adds, "We store our meat in a freezer in the basement."
The door swings shut behind Hannibal, and Will fidgets in Alana's general direction before wandering across the room, straightening objects and wiping down surfaces.
She speaks first. "Why do you have so much sausage?"
Will answers from the next room over, "I went hunting last weekend, and Hannibal said the meat was perfect for sausage, so he made it. But I hear people don't actually want to know how sausage is made."
He's smiling, looking a little pleased with himself. For all the years Alana has known Will, she's rarely seem him look proud. "I thought Hannibal was the hunter. You're a fisherman, aren't you?"
Will shrugs, "He's been teaching me. And we go hunting together, but this one was my kill. I do still fish, but it's not really the season for it."
He moves back into Alana's general area, apparently willing to talk about hunting, so she seizes the opportunity. Hannibal is neurotic about food preparations, but he won't stay in the basement forever.
"Will," she starts, "you know you don't have to go to Argentina, right? You can stay here. We'll all take care of you, you know that -- me, Jack, even Bev cares about you. And I know you don't want to leave your dogs!"
Will rubs at some rust stains on the stove, his back towards Alana and his voice cold. "Actually, I've already found homes for most of the dogs. We started putting up Craigslist ads after I moved in here, and then I got serious about it once Hannibal heard about the research opportunity. And Winston's coming with us. As far as I know, Argentina hasn't outlawed dogs.
"As for you taking care of me," he spins angrily, glaring at the top of Alana's head, "I'm not actually a child, despite what everyone seems to think. Hannibal is my lover, not my father. You know I already have a teaching position lined up -- you were there when I asked Jack for the recommendation! Did you really think I was just nodding along, selling my house, making all these plans, because you hadn't offered to take care of me yet?"
Will is actually shouting now, hands in his hair, looking more out of control than Alana has seen him in months.
Hannibal appears at the top of the stairs, tupperware in hand. He looks at Alana as though she is a mouse he is about to eat, and her heart actually stutters in fear.
"Dear Will," he murmurs, smoothing the other's curls, "have you organized your papers like I asked?"
"No," Will mumbles, "I started but…can't we just take them all? I'll sort through them eventually."
The taller man tightens his grip on Will's shoulder, "No, we cannot. I will not ask you again. Do it now."
Will looks up, his crystal blue eyes so fragile Alana is shocked they haven't shattered yet. "I'm sorry," he whispers, "I'll take care of it."
Hannibal rubs his mouth over Will's bangs, and rumbles something too low for Alana to hear. Her heart drops when her brain catches up with her ears.
Good boy.
As Will scrambles up the stairs, Hannibal turns to her with a face like an ice sculpture and fire burning in his eyes, "Now, Dr. Bloom. You will tell me why you have come into my home and upset my Will, or you will leave." His voice suggested that if she chose the latter, it would not be in one piece.
Alana makes one last effort. No one ever said she wasn't persistent. "This is not a normal relationship, Hannibal! It's not healthy! He looks at you like you're a God!
And now Hannibal smiles his true smile, showing a mouth full of teeth and knives.
"If I am a God, then Will Graham is a saint. That boy is a true believer."
Finally Alana Bloom's lizard brain takes over, and she runs from the house, takes off her heels and just sprints. But like the rabbit running from the hawk, she knows that the predator will catch up with her. She's already seen the whites of his eyes.