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The force of hitting the water knocks Hannibal unconscious, though only for a few seconds. When he wakes, lungs burning, he thrashes madly toward the surface.
Will is gone.
Hannibal looks around, ducks under a wave, comes back up gasping with the effort. But there is still no dark head bobbing among the waves, no sign of anyone but himself. Hannibal allows himself one brief moment of agony before kicking off for shore.
=
It takes thirteen months for Hannibal to fully recover. In those first weeks he had felt his age more than ever. Treating his wounds himself proved to be difficult, and his convalescence was extended as he was forced to wait for a proper surgeon until he had been declared missing, presumed dead.
The surgeon made for several excellent meals, all heavy, all simple. (Comfort food, if Hannibal was being honest with himself.)
Hannibal still has aliases and money, and he uses both to travel to South America. The next six months are spent wandering aimlessly. He thinks about hunting down Alana, and while he won't break his word, the thought of seeing her at the moment (of seeing anyone who reminds him of Will Graham, really) is wholly unappealing, so she remains safe.
In Argentina he kills sloppily. There is no evidence at any of his scenes, of course, but aside from that they all look like brutal gang hits- he learned his lesson in Italy, and without Will to visit him in prison, being caught is out of the question.
(He goes back for Bedelia two months later. Shame to let his efforts go to waste.)
None of it satiates his hunger, though. He doesn't have Will Graham's flesh and the memory of a meal to carry with him, and Hannibal wasn't even the one to kill him.
He feels very empty.
=
Two years, three weeks, and fourteen days after the fall, Hannibal, bored of the faux gang murders, is breaking into the home of a lowly government official. The man was just high up enough to take bribes, and his disappearance and subsequent murder will be taken as evidence of blackmail gone wrong.
The man's trophy wife (beautiful, of course, but surprisingly clever- married for the money so she could use it for her medical studies) is out on the town, most likely for an affair. The official is in their study, and Hannibal slinks in without being noticed.
The man pecks away at his laptop, unaware of his surroundings. At the last moment, he turns to his wife's desk to reach for a paper and sees Hannibal out of the corner of his eye. He shouts and scrabbles at his wife's desk ineffectually in search of a weapon, but Hannibal is on him then, and it is over in seconds.
As Hannibal is dragging the body away, he notices the wife's computer has been stirred to life by the man's thrashing, and on one of the many windows is a familiar, beloved name.
Hannibal pauses and checks the time before settling in the wife's chair. He slowly clicks through the articles the wife has pulled up- her interest in medicine lies specifically in psychology, and he feels his interest grow as the articles begin to revolve around criminals.
At last, Hannibal clicks the window that had first caught his attention. It's not a medical paper like the others, but an article downloaded from a very familiar website.
WILL GRAHAM RELEASED FROM HOSPITAL, CURRENT LOCATION UNKNOWN.
Hannibal is, at first, numb from shock. Ignoring the crash of emotions in his breast, he focuses on the article. It's not Freddie's best, he thinks, although that may be because there isn't much to tell- Will Graham (alive), has lived in a hospital these past two years, recovering from the fall (he survived), and been released (he's alive and healthy enough to leave), but shouldn't the authorities keep an eye on him for the public's safety?
At the end of the article are links to Freddie's works from the early days after the fall (the fall that Will survived), and Hannibal devours those. Everything Freddie could have said in the most recent article has already come out in the older ones- questioning Will's motives, his sanity, even his apparent health issues afterward (but if he is being released from the hospital he must have recovered, Hannibal tells himself).
Will Graham is alive. He is alive, and Hannibal did not know, and he has lived these past two years (two years, three weeks, and fourteen days) thinking that Will was dead.
Hannibal leaves the corpse untouched. The authorities won't find any evidence, but they know the official is dirty, so it will be an open and shut case for them.
Hannibal is back in the US thirty hours later.
=
Freddie's articles had told Hannibal that Will's former home was the Kessler Institute for Rehabilitation (which strikes Hannibal as ominous).
Will's medical records are out of Hannibal's reach at the moment, but a discrete meeting with an old friend who owes him a favor reveals that Will has returned to his home in Wolf Trap.
Hannibal watches Will's home for the better part of three months to ensure that the FBI isn't monitoring him.
As he watches, he makes note of the little oddities, things that catch his attention, like how Will only has one dog (Winston, who he lets out four times at precisely the same time each day), or how there are visits twice weekly from an unknown man, or how there are post it notes next to each light switch in the house (Hannibal uses binoculars for that, though he's far enough away that he can't read what's on them).
Will even has a cleaning service (every other Tuesday, ten o'clock sharp, a deep clean of every surface lasting almost three hours). When this occurs, Will goes into town for groceries. Hannibal follows him twice. Will always stops at a cafe first, and there he meets a strange woman, who accompanies him to the store.
It's very clearly not a date, and while the two are cordial, their relationship has no depth- it almost appears to be a working relationship, which confuses Hannibal to no end.
Nearing the end of the third month of his watch, Hannibal decides to visit Will at last, having determined that no one was monitoring Will (except, perhaps, the strange man who was Will's only visitor, but he was obviously not law enforcement).
The best day to visit is Thursday- there is no shopping to be done and no visitors, and so Hannibal settles in to wait.
=
Hannibal knocks three times, and though he can hear a faint shuffling from inside Will doesn't answer. Just as he is about to give in to his impatience and break in the door swings open to reveal Will, dressed in simple cotton pants and a sweatshirt, Winston at his side.
They stare at one another in silence, Winston's happy panting the only noise. At last, Will speaks. "Uh, hi."
Hannibal drinks in the sight of him. "Hello, Will. May I come in?"
"Sure," Will mumbles. He doesn't look Hannibal in the eye, though his glasses would have obscured his gaze even if he had tried. Hannibal waits expectantly for Will to step back and allow him in, but Will just looks at him.
"If I may," Hannibal says, gently pushing into the house. Will looks startled.
"Right, sorry. I don't really know how to do this."
Hannibal smiles at him. "I'm fairly certain people don't meet like this often."
Certainly the masses don't experience the same depth and intensity of emotions they have.
"I don't get visitors. Um, you want a drink, right?" Will asks. "I might not be able to make it, but..."
"You don't need to worry about meeting my expectations. I'll have whatever you're having."
"Right," Will says faintly. "Um, I'll just-" here, he gestures toward the kitchen. "I'll be right back."
Will's absence give Hannibal time to look around the room. It's almost completely bare, no books or newspapers to be found. The bed is gone, replaced with a serviceable couch. Hannibal can finally read the post it notes next to the light switches and takes the opportunity to do so.
PUT FINGER UNDERNEATH HANDLE AND FLICK UP TO TURN ON LIGHT, it reads. The blocky handwriting is neat and there is a small diagram for visual reference. PUT FINGER ON TOP AND FLICK DOWN TO RETURN TO OFF POSITION. There is another illustration underneath.
All the post it notes next to the lights say the same thing. Hannibal is uneasy. Will walks back into the room just after Hannibal had sat on the couch.
"All I have is hot cocoa," Will says, shuffling two mugs awkwardly. He thrusts a mug at Hannibal. "Here."
The whole thing is odd. Will's return to his old, twitchy mannerisms, the lack of reaction to Hannibal, the notes- something is desperately wrong, but Hannibal doesn't know how to ask about it.
Right as Will brings the mug to his lips his cell phone rings. He pulls it out of his pocket and Hannibal can see that it's an alarm: TAKE DOG OUT.
"Sorry, it's time for Winston to pee."
"He doesn't look as though he needs to go out," Hannibal replies. It's true- Winston is lazily stretched out next to the couch.
"Yeah, but it's time. I have an alarm for that," Will says. "Come on, boy."
"Do you need alarms for anything else?" Hannibal asks carefully. He stands alongside Will, watching him put on his shoes.
"Um, for waking up and going to bed. I'm pretty good at meals, so I don't need alarms for those. That's it, really." Abruptly Will turns to Hannibal. "Why?"
Hannibal looks down at Will, who is crouched on the floor, one boot on, and he realizes that Will does not know who he is. Will, who has to set alarms so he can remember to do the simplest of tasks, who has to be taken to the grocery store, who can't clean his own house- this is not Will Graham as Hannibal knew him.
Hannibal sinks down to Will's eye level, raising his glasses so they can look one another in the eye. He speaks, enunciating slowly. "You have amnesia."
"Yes," Will says.
"You do not know me."
"Should I?" Will says, a vague curiosity in his voice. Hannibal stares at him. Will doesn't seem bothered at the lack of reply and slips on his other boot. He's out the door with Winston before Hannibal can gather himself.
Hannibal doesn't follow, instead watching from inside. The man playing outside with Winston is a stranger. Hannibal thinks about killing him.
Hannibal can have Will Graham's flesh and the memory of a meal to carry with him, and Hannibal can even be the one to kill him, but-
The man outside is not Will Graham.
=
When the man re-enters his house, dog at his heels, it is empty.