WARNING: Sexual content and fluff (seriously, it'll burn you – IT'LL BURN YOU BAD).

There are also a few foreign phrases in this chapter, so here are the translations:

Lithuanian:

mano brolis: my brother

French:

Allô: Hello

ma chérie: My dear/darling

Pardonnez-moi: Pardon me

CH 10: Salvation

Will had never been in love before. He'd had amorous, romantic flings in the past, absolutely, but it wasn't until Abigail had pulled him from the rubble that he'd fully understood what such an emotion could be. She'd been an anchor…a lighthouse leading him to safe passage, so when she'd led him off course, he couldn't help but feel betrayed. Instead of the safety of the harbor, he'd been dashed against the rocks during high tide, left to lie battered and bruised without another thought.

Had Abigail ever truly cared for him, he wondered? Or had she smiled, batted her lashes, and lured him in with the siren song she'd sang for all her father's victims? Will should've known better than to trust a woman born in deceit, but he hadn't been able to help himself. After his downfall in life, he'd been desperate for a connection…desperate to bond with someone who understood him. And at the time, he'd genuinely believed that person was Abigail.

Will snorted. He was such a fool. It had now been two years since he'd told Abigail to leave, and even now he still scoured the news, hoping to find a hidden clue to her whereabouts. And more importantly, was she still with Hannibal? Or had he killed her for her betrayal?

Tasting bile at the thought, Will closed his eyes and shook his head, not even hearing Beverly as she entered their shared apartment.

"Hey, Champ!"

He lurched to attention, nearly pricking himself on the lure he'd been (absent-mindedly) creating.

Dropping a couple shopping bags onto the floor, Beverly peeled off her coat and said, "Some friends and I are going out for some drinks in a bit…wanna come with?"

Will pulled away from his bench with a weak smile. "Do I ever want to 'come with'?"

Beverly snorted. "Hmph…suit yourself, Mr. Anti-Social. If you keep it up, people might start to think you're a decoration instead of a human being. It's ok to go out every now and then, you know."

"I do," Will defensively said. "I went fishing just a couple days ago."

"Yeah? Well I hate to break it to you, but fishing doesn't count as socializing…unless you talk to the fish?"

Will smiled at that, but there was a sadness around his eyes. Even though he hadn't lived in this apartment with Abigail, he didn't want to give up the secluded lifestyle they'd shared – it helped him feel close to her. And despite being a pragmatic man, every now and then he expected to feel Abigail's arms around his neck, her lips on his face, her hand shyly slipping into his; it unnerved him how his subconscious refused to let her go. It had been two years – two whole years – so why couldn't he move on like he knew she had?

"Hellooo? Did you hear anything I just said?"

Clearing his throat, Will smiled weakly and rubbed his face. "Sorry, I just…I was distracted."

"Yeah? Well cut that out," Beverly teased. Smiling despite Will's preoccupation, she softly added, "I said you're a good guy, and that good people are eventually rewarded. Don't worry, Will. I know this isn't the life you dreamed of, but it'll get better someday."

Will ducked his head and sighed. "You make it sound like I'm ungrateful…I'm not, you know."

"Of course I know, but I'm also not dumb enough to think this is what you want in life. I work with the FBI – it's my job to figure out people and what makes them tick."

Will smirked. "Ok, so what makes me tick?"

"I think we both know the answer to that."

Smile fading, his eyes cut down to the floor and he shifted, finally mumbling a hushed, "Have fun with your friends."

Beverly frowned. She knew a dismissal when she heard one, but decided to let it go. If Will wasn't ready to face the inevitable, there was no point in forcing him to come to grips with reality.

"Alright, well…I'm going to go get ready now."

"Ok."

Sparing Will one last glance, Beverly shook her head and moved toward her bedroom.

"What always interests you so much in those American newspapers?"

Abigail paused, her jaw setting as Hannibal entered the sitting room. "You know what."

"Indeed, I do not. The headlines are always so pedestrian." Feigning ignorance, Hannibal took his tea and sat in the high-backed chair across from her, crossing his legs. "Il Gazzettino is far more suitable, given our current status. This country has been good to us."

Abigail said nothing. Instead, she continued to scour Freddie Lounds' blog on her tablet, hoping to somehow find news of Will Graham and his whereabouts. She still thought of him often. Whether it be a song on the radio, a painfully melancholy symphony, or even the sight of a mangy mutt on the street, she could easily be moved to tears. Hannibal thought her sentimental, but Abigail knew the truth – she was slowly dying from not being with the man she loved.

"Have you given any more thought to Reynard Fremont?"

Abigail froze, her lips pursing with displeasure. Reynard was a Parisian Hannibal had selected as a "respectable suitor," but she wasn't having any of their 17th century bullshit. She wanted to date whomever she damn well pleased, and she knew she could never do so with her heart otherwise detained. Surely Hannibal knew this, as well? Or maybe that was why he was trying to marry her off in the first place?"

"Mischa?"

She cringed, hating how he no longer called her by her true name.

When their eyes met, Hannibal set his cup down onto its saucer with a delicate 'clink.' "Have you or have you not considered his offer?"

"I have," Abigail coolly said.

"And?"

"And I've decided I still need time to think…his proposal took me off-guard."

Hannibal appeared displeased. "Be that as it may, you will not find a gentleman more worthy than he. I should hope that at the very least, you will have an answer by the time we host our gala this evening."

Abigail lurched up from her chair. "But why do I have to make a decision by this evening? I'm not just picking out a dress or choosing a new wall color, mano brolis…we're talking about a decision that'll affect the rest of my life!"

Hannibal's eyes were dark. "Mischa, I am your brother, and I have always known what is best for you. Though I once considered Will Graham an equal, he is not secure enough to be worthy of your affections."

"B-but I never said-"

"You didn't have to," he coolly cut in. "We have lived together long enough for me to sense your foolhardy, sentimental yearnings for a love now lost."

"But-"

"He does not want you." Hannibal watched the color drain from Abigail's face. As she slowly sank back down into her chair, he provoked, "When a man desires something enough, he will go to the ends of the earth to find it. And seeing how Will has not come to fetch you, nor has he even bothered to see if you are alive, it would seem that your affections are not reciprocated." He gave her a pointed look. "It is foolish to mourn for a man who does not mourn you in return."

Abigail swallowed sharply, her eyes closing. "You know I don't love Reynard…"

"You will in time," Hannibal promised. "He will be there to take care of you if I suddenly find myself unable. It is important to me that you are looked after."

"I don't need a man to look after me – I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

"Perhaps," Hannibal agreed, "but it would put my mind at ease."

"Oh, well just so long as you feel better."

"Do not be rude, Mischa. Sarcasm is an ugly shade on you." He rose then and Abigail faltered, her irate expression fading. "Meet me in the drawing room in one hour. By then, I will expect to see your selected dress for the evening, as well as what you plan on doing with your hair. We cannot have you looking second rate when Mr. Fremont will be in attendance."

"Yes, brolis." As Hannibal walked past her, Abigail bit her lip and swallowed back her tears. Hannibal was right – Will hadn't looked for her, but a small part of her couldn't help but hope that he'd only neglected to do so out of fear. It was why she, herself hadn't run off in search of him, and ultimately why she never could.

A soft hush overcame Fell Manor as Hannibal Lecter, proud and self-assured garnered everyone's immediate attention. As he began to address his guests, Abigail frowned and glanced down into her wine glass. She hated parties. Nevertheless, she'd agreed to play the dutiful role of his loving sister, Mischa Fell, her face now painted up and her hair hanging in loose, curled ringlets around her shoulders.

As she contemplated her bad fortune, a soft touch came at her elbow.

"Allô," the newcomer greeted. "You shall have to thank your brother for inviting me."

Abigail's upper lip curled, but she nodded, pretending to be just as enthused as Reynard. The man was handsome in his own right, but ultimately lacked what had made her fall for Will.

Seeing that Abigail wasn't going to engage in conversation (willingly), Reynard cleared his throat and tried again, "This is truly a splendid affair, ma chérie. I have never seen so many fine wines or entrées! And your brother prepares everything himself, is that correct?"

Abigail took a generous sip of wine and grimaced. "Yes…he does."

"And that includes the alcohol, does it not?"

"Yes." Disinterestedly gazing down at the floor, Abigail thought of how she'd much rather be out on Will's boat. With his head in her lap, she'd read to him as they drifted out amongst the briny waves, neither focusing on anything but the sea or each other.

"Would you care to dance?"

"…What?"

"Later on," Reynard clarified, appearing a bit perplexed. "When the orchestra swells, would you care to do me the honors?"

"I, uh…maybe?"

He huffed. "I'm sorry, did you wish to be alone?"

Again Abigail thought of Will, more than likely curled up by the fire with his dogs, and she shook her head, wincing. "No," she whispered. "I don't want to be alone anymore."

"Pardonnez-moi?"

Handing Reynard her wine glass, she smoothly asked him, "Would you please get me another drink? I need to speak with my brother really quick."

"Oh, but mademoiselle…this glass is nearly full. Are you sure that-?"

But Abigail was already heading off toward the gardens of the manor, her eyes bright as she excitedly thought of what she was about to do. As she reached the back gate she could hear Hannibal's voice in her head, lowly scolding her for her transgression. "No more jumping walls, Abigail."

This was just one more hurdle that she needed to leap.

"What are you so happy about?"

"I have a customer," Will said, smiling as he gestured toward the inbox on his laptop. "I was honestly starting to get worried, 'cause I've had a pretty dry spell as of late. Seems like nobody needs a mechanic anymore."

"Especially one who specializes in boat motors," Beverly teased. "When are they coming by? I'll be sure to pop out so you can deal with them alone."

"Uhh…around three tomorrow afternoon, I think? She wasn't overly specific."

"It's a she? Are you sure she isn't just trying to get you to fiddle with her plumbing?"

Will made a face. "Don't be crass…I don't even know the woman. Her name's Molly Something-or-Another."

"Hmm. I went to school with a Chris Something-or-Another…any relation?"

Will smiled at that, shutting his laptop with a sigh. "This is the first job I've had in a few weeks, so with any luck she'll give me a few recommendations."

"Here's a recommendation for ya: find a real job." Playfully ruffling his hair, Beverly ignored his agitated glance and headed into the kitchen. "How 'bout a beer?"

"No thanks."

"Hmph, suit yourself." Popping the top off her bottle, she took a sip, then leaned back against the marble countertop, her toes curling against the cool linoleum as she smiled. "Want some advice?"

"Not really…"

"Well too bad, 'cause I'm gonna give it to you anyway." Waiting for him to look at her, she continued, "A couple of my friends think you're cute, so it wouldn't hurt to be a little flirty every now and then. Abigail is gone, Will – you need to start thinking about your future. And I may love you and all, but I don't wanna be roomies forever…you're messy, and your dogs stink."

Will huffed. "Contrary to popular belief, not everyone's meant to get married, pop out a bunch of bratty kids, and live a happy life. I'm perfectly content with the way things are now."

Beverly shook her head. "Good thing you're not still with the FBI, 'cause you're a terrible liar."

"I'm not lying."

"Right. And I'm not hopelessly addicted to bon bons." Rolling her eyes, Beverly set her beer onto the counter and sighed. "In the end you're only hurting yourself, so it's no skin off my back if you're lying."

Will moved to retaliate, but Beverly was already grabbing her coat. "See you later, Mr. Denial." As she left the room and silence filled the air, Will looked down at his lap and grimaced. He hated when Beverly was right.

The next day, Beverly stayed true to her word and left Will to his own devices. His appointment wasn't for at least two hours, but due to his nerves, he couldn't stay still during the wait. He fretted. He cleaned. He paced, only to end up in the kitchen washing dishes. Truth be told, Will didn't know why he was so anxious – it seemed that not having had a job put extra pressure on this deal.

Submerging a plate into the murky water, Will clumsily cleaned with the half-severed fingers of his right hand. He hated the sight of that damn injury. It seemed that even his body brought memories of Abigail, her soft, rounded face taking shape in his mind as he closed his eyes.

"Will?"

"Hmm?"

Abigail smiled amidst her tears, the two of them huddled together on the motel bed as she took his raw, injured hand in hers. Now lifting it beside her missing ear, she nuzzled him and whispered, "We match."

Will stared back at her, silent and glassy-eyed as she proceeded to kiss each of his burned, crusted joints. She was right…together they made quite the pair, what with their deformities and inner imperfections. He smiled sadly at the thought.

Sliding his thumb across her lips, Will watched Abigail as she kissed that too, her eyes meeting his as he brushed the soft, errant hair from her face.

Snuggling in closer, Abigail lifted her hands and cradled his cheeks, her forehead touching his as she asked, "Will you always be in my life?"

He smiled and wiped a traveling tear from her cheek. "Always."

Nearly breaking a glass, Will clenched his jaw and began to scrub the dishes more vigorously. He was tired…so tired of clinging to ghosts and broken promises. Abigail had never wanted to be with him. In manipulating him, she'd been hoping to lure him into her trap . . . and had ultimately succeeded.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Will's dogs began to bark and howl excitedly, but he showed no real hurry in ceasing his task. "The door's open!" he called.

Finishing up a particularly scuzzy pan, Will wiped his slacks and grabbed a glass, now drying it off with a dish towel as he went toward the front of the apartment. At the very least, he figured he could offer this woman a drink. "Be there in a sec!" he said.

By now he could hear the soft, dulcet tones of her cooing over his dogs, his heart constricting painfully at the sound of her voice. For a second there it almost seemed like… No. It couldn't be.

Coming into the doorway, Will swallowed and beheld the sight of a tall, lightly-curved blonde bent over his dogs. Their tails wagged and she laughed, accepting each of their kisses with girlish pleasure.

"Can…can I help you?" he asked.

The woman straightened and turned, her face melding into the one person he could spot in a crowd of one million. The longer he stared, the more real she became, each intimate detail lining up without falsehood or distortion.

"Hello, Will."

The glass he'd been holding plummeted to the floor, exploding across the wooden surface in an arc of sparkling shards. "Abigail," he choked, his chest burning from lack of breath. She was real. She was actually alive. The space around her burned a shadow of negative space, causing her presence to scream demandingly at him like a torch in the night.

"Hi," she said again, her eyes sparkling with tears.

Will sucked in a quavering breath, his hands clenching as he began to shake. It was her…she'd come back to him.

Seeming to expect an outburst, Abigail stepped forward with her palms lifted. "Look," she began, "I know I'll never deserve you or be worthy of-"

But he cut her off, briskly closing the gap between them with three quick, even strides. Knotting his fingers through her hair, Will urgently crashed his mouth into hers and tugged, a desperate sob catching in his throat as he backed her up toward the wall. Abigail whimpered when they collided with the hard surface, her hands framing his cheeks as she angled her face frantically into his. Amidst their desperation, the kiss grew rough and feverish, their tongues glossing as Will pressed Abigail more strongly into the wall. Both jolted when he urged a hand between her thighs.

"Wait," she begged, "you need to know that-"

"No," he breathed. "I don't."

Allowing him to claim her lips again, Abigail grasped his shoulders and slid her hands into his hair, her head falling back against the wall as his mouth burned a warm, searing trail toward her throat. Biting her lip when his tongue swiped across her scar, she whimpered and impatiently rolled her hips into his searching hand. Will seemed to get the hint.

Dropping down to his knees, he hastily began to bunch up her dress and push it up around her waist, his lips eagerly meeting with her midriff as he began to peel away at her panties. Abigail gasped. Shakily helping him remove the bothersome garment, she gripped his curls and jerked when his tongue thrust between her thighs. The sensation sent sparks of pleasure throughout her limbs, her mouth falling agape as a high, delicate whine escaped her lips. "Will," she begged, "Will, please…"

He nuzzled into her more deeply, his tongue immersing into her wetness as she hooked a leg over his shoulder. Using the wall to support her weight, Abigail tilted her hips and pulled him in closer, her nails scratching up his neck and scalp as he devoured her. The distraction of his tongue was maddening...

Unable to take it any longer, Abigail grew frantic and shoved Will onto his back. He looked up at her, stunned, only to instantly understand when she hiked up her dress and straddled him. She needed him the way he needed her. Grabbing her hips as she unfastened his pants with slim, jittery fingers, Will closed his eyes and groaned when her hand wrapped around him. Lips parting and breath coming out in harsh, labored gasps, he arched his back when he suddenly found himself coerced deep inside her wet, welcoming heat.

With her hands gripping his shoulders, Abigail leaned all her weight forward and rolled her hips, a soft, gusting sigh catching in her throat as she felt him writhe beneath her. Will gasped and tried to pull down on her waist. Teeth biting into the soft pad of her lip, Abigail's movements soon began to accelerate in aggression, her body giving several harsh, violent jerks as she rose and fell against him. Still briskly undulating her hips, Abigail cried out when she suddenly found herself rolled over beneath Will's strong, sturdy frame. With her legs twined around his waist, she tossed her head back and yelped when he bit down on her shoulder, his hands gripping her hips as he rocked violently inside her heat. Abigail quivered.

Stealing her breath in a harsh, bruising kiss, Will punctuated each of her soft mewling sounds with several short, brisk jabs of his cock. Her fingers were now in his hair, tugging on his curls as she whimpered into his open mouth. His tongue slid past her lips and tangled with hers. Feeling her spasm around his length, Will groaned low in his throat and drove into her with a renewed force, her thighs squeezing his hips as he felt himself coming undone. With several harsh, frenzied thrusts, he arched his back and came hard, grunting softly as he collapsed atop Abigail's heaving bosom. Both wilted in one another's arms soon after.

The two laid like that for quite some time, panting and struggling for breath as they remained entangled in each other's embrace. All that could be heard was the soft tick tick tick of the clock on the wall, Abigail's fingers combing through Will's hair as he buried his face in her neck. She became surprised when her skin suddenly grew damp.

"Will…?"

"You're alive," he choked. "Please…tell me I'm not hallucinating."

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Abigail closed her eyes and heaved a shaking breath. "You're not," she promised him, "I'm right here." She felt him clutch her more tightly.

"Maybe this isn't real," Will whispered back, his voice hushed and warming her skin. "Maybe you're not real… I've dreamed you before."

Lifting him by the chin, Abigail palmed his damp cheek and wiped the curve of his face with her thumb. She hated to admit it, but it comforted her to know he'd thought of her.

Catching her by the wrist, Will swallowed and regarded her carefully. "Why did you come back?"

"What do you mean?"

"You'll be going back to Hannibal after this, won't you? Wasn't this just a brief detour?"

Trying to ignore the pain in his eyes, Abigail knew it was time to put his mind at ease. Unzipping a pocket in her dress, she withdrew a dog-eared, folded up piece of paper and held it out to him. "Read this," she urged. "I brought it for you."

Bemused, Will took the note and opened it with shaking fingers. After a moment, he said, "I…I can't read this. It's all in Italian."

"Not the bottom part…" She pointed. "I had it translated."

Skimming down to where she instructed, Will felt his heart flutter as he said, "This is the copy of an arrest warrant."

Abigail could barely hide her smile. "I know…I contacted the authorities after I left Palermo."

"Then…Dr. Lecter's in police custody?"

She nodded, gazing imploringly into his eyes. "I wanted us to have the chance for a normal life. If he remained free, I knew we'd always have to run from him."

Will winced and started to withdraw. Panicking, Abigail rolled up into a sitting position and clutched his elbow. "Look," she earnestly began, "I know you don't believe me, and you have every right to feel that way, considering all the shit I've put you through, but things are different now. I had the police translate that warrant so you could see I'm serious about starting over…that I'm serious about you." She gripped his hand, trembling as he looked down at their entwined fingers. "Please, Will, you have to believe me. I can't go back to that old life…or at least, not without you."

Swallowing past the dryness in his throat, Will finally regarded her through stinging eyes. "I got an email yesterday from a client named Molly Foster…was that you?"

Abigail blinked at him, startled. In all the time she'd known Will, she should've anticipated that he'd try and hide his feelings by changing the subject. But since he also hadn't shouted at her or told her to go to hell, she felt a bloom of hope within her breast. Biting her lip, Abigail shrugged and asked, "Do you like it? When the time's right, I want to get my name legally changed – there's just too much baggage with my current one."

Will flashed her a soft, genuine smile. "I think I do, actually…and I like the blonde hair. It's very 'exotic.'"

Abigail scoffed at his joke, rolling her eyes as her lips lifted into a smile. "I'm beginning to think everything's 'exotic' to residents of Wolf Trap."

Will smirked at her barb, but after a while his smile faded and his gaze grew serious again. "What happened between us can't just be erased, you know."

Abigail faltered, nodding. "I…I know, but can't the same be said for all the good stuff we've shared, too?"

Will sighed. "Of course it can, but you broke my trust, Abigail – hell, you broke me – so you can't just expect us to pick up where we left off."

"Then…are you saying…?"

"I'm saying if you actually want to be in my life, you're going to have to prove I can trust you again. And given how deeply you've wrecked said trust, it's going to take a long time. Are you really willing to put that kind of effort into a relationship when you're so young, and…well…?" Trailing off, Will sighed and rested his forehead on his knee. His voice cracked as he whispered, "You hurt me bad, Abigail, but it hurts a hell of a lot more to be without you."

His words were mumbled against his pant leg, so Abigail had almost missed the hushed, hopeful words of devotion.

"You know I am," she finally said. "If I wasn't willing to try, why would I have come here in the first place? Why would I have risked my life to escape Hannibal?"

Will swallowed. "I…I don't know…"

"Yes," Abigail said. "You do know."

Will looked up at her then, his gaze softening as he nodded. "Yeah…I guess you're right." Shyly catching her hand in his, he turned her toward him and tucked her head beneath his chin. "I care about you, Abigail."

"…Just care?"

"No…I more than care about you."

She smiled against his chest. "Good, 'cause I more than care about you, too." Wrapping her arms more securely around his waist, she closed her eyes and drifted off to the sound of his strong, steady heartbeat.

About a year and a half later, Will and Abigail found themselves back in Florida. As it turned out, Abigail had gotten her hands on quite a bit of money from Hannibal, so she'd been able to buy a nice beach house in Sugar Loaf. Even though Will hadn't wanted to force himself into her life, she'd insisted that he and his dogs come stay with her. She couldn't bear the thought of living alone.

"It'd be my first time truly being on my own," she'd whispered, her eyes soft and weepy.

That had settled it. Will could never say no to her.

The months prior had brought a lot of tests for Abigail, but had ultimately proven she'd been serious about her promise. Will no longer worried about her betraying him.

So now, sitting outdoors in the evening sun, both Will and Abigail huddled together on the porch swing Will had fashioned from some leftover wood. Abigail leaned against his side, smiling as she hugged her swollen belly with one arm and held his damaged hand between her fingers. "Will?"

"Hmm?"

"I think we should call him Willy."

Arching a brow, Will glanced down at Abigail's warm, rosy-cheeked face and fought off a jeering smile. "Willy isn't very inventive, all things considered…"

She huffed. "It's Willy or nothing at all!"

"Well, 'Nothing at All' does have kind of a nice ring to it. The only problem is it might be hard finding his name on one of those souvenir key chains."

Abigail rolled her eyes, trying her best not to smile. "You're such a jerk, Will – I hope he inherits my wit over yours."

"Hmph, well at least you admit that I have wit."

Brushing her thumb over his severed fingers, Abigail caressed the knotted scar tissue and gave a distant smile. "Is this how you imagined everything would be? Is this what you wanted?"

"Not really," Will said, tucking her head beneath his chin. "I thought I'd be engaged to some good-looking skinny woman by this point. In fact, I – ow!" Wincing when he rubbed where she'd knuckled his ribs, he laughed and observed her sour expression. "Was it something I said?"

"No. I have voices in my head that tell me to hurt assholes."

Laughing again, Will kissed Abigail's forehead while her brow remained petulant and creased. "Do you hate me?"

"Yes."

"Ok…I think I can live with that."

Expression softening with amusement, Abigail laid her head on his shoulder and smiled. Even though Will was currently being a pain, it warmed her to see this freer side of him. Ever since Hannibal had been transferred to the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane, Will had lost his former doom and gloom outlook on life and had taken a more laid-back, appealing perspective. It made Abigail wish that she'd turned Hannibal in a lot sooner.

Feeling Will's palm press against the swell of her stomach, Abigail grasped his wandering hand and interlocked their fingers.

"Does this mean I'm forgiven?"

She snorted, smiling despite her disdain. "You're just lucky I tolerate you."

Will chuckled and pressed his cheek against her hair. "Just so you know, I tolerate you, too."

Abigail smiled, curling her knees as she snuggled more closely into his side. With the dogs sleeping at their feet, the two gazed out into the horizon, neither worrying about the future and what horrors it could bring. In that moment it was just the two of them, the slowly setting sun, and the love that had saved them both from damnation.

A/N: I'd like to thank Point Mann, Ilda, and Eliza for the "Molly Foster is Abigail Hobbs" idea (I thought it was so cool how three different people came up with the same plot bunny!). Even though it was a really long time ago that we discussed that theory/idea, I remembered it and thought it was cute and decided to go for it. I obviously don't think that idea ever WILL happen (considering how Willy's actually 11 when Will meets Molly and blah blah blah), but hey, this is fanfiction, so why the heck not? ;) After the depressing end of my first Will/Abigail fic, "Folie a Deux," I KNEW I needed a happy ending for this one. I'm also a little sad it's over, because I literally started this fic after 1x12 aired (to deal with the pain, CUZ ABBY, BBY!) and it got me through the hiatus. I can't believe it took me the entire hiatus to finish (and then some), but hey, at least it kept me occupied!

In other news, I've already started a new Will/Abigail fic (PLOT BUNNIES ARE EVERYWHERE), so if you're interested, it's called "She Came in Dreams." :) I haven't gotten too far yet since I want to see what Will's living situations are going to be like, but I definitely know what I want to do. As the title suggests, this fic will involve Abigail appearing to Will in dreams/hallucinations, in which she'll guide him to clues on how to prove his innocence. BUT if that's all the story was, that'd be boring as hell, so I promise there'll be a twist. ;)

Wow...I just realized that I've never defined the term "anthesis," so here it is: the flowering period of a plant, from the opening of the flower bud (aka when a flower blooms). I figured that that definition was perfect since it explained the maturation/development/growth of both Will and Abigail throughout the story. I actually learned the term during a science class I substitute taught, so my students didn't know why I was so full of feels. xD

INDIVIDUAL THANK YOUS:

Point Mann: I felt bad for Abigail while writing the chapter, so I'm sure that's why most people seemed to be on her side. xD Will would be an idiot if he just went, "LOLOK SOUNDS GOOD," even if that's what we ultimately want. lol As for Alana, I went with Bryan's canon of how Hannibal would always go out of his way to "protect" her in his odd way, because he'd rather not kill her. In 1x3 he knocked her out so she wouldn't be a witness (and therefore a liability), and in 1x7 it became apparent that he assigned Alana elsewhere to keep her nose out of the Ripper case. I just figured he wouldn't want to kill her here either, especially since there was no real need. But I can understand why it'd seem weird. Well...hopefully the ending wasn't a disappointment, cuz it was so damn fluffy. xDD I don't normally write like that, BUT THIS SHOW IS MAKING ME NEED FLUFF SO BADLY CUZ EVERYTHING IS SO DARK AND SAD AND...AND... -cries- Thanks so much for reading and sticking with this to the end! :)

Abigill Fan: But of course! I'm cruel enough to do that. ;) But fortunately you got your way in this (CUZ SERIOUSLY THIS SECOND SEASON IS MURDERING MY SOUL SO I NEEDED THIS FLUFF. I NEEDED IT LIKE AIR), and everything turned out alright in the end. Thanks for sticking with me through all my stories. It really means a lot! :)

ElektraMackenzie: Omg. xD I was actually trying to make Will pitiable in this instance, but I guess it didn't work that way for you. xDD haha Oh well, everyone's happy now...except for the fans who've got 3rd degree burns from all the fluff. lol Thanks for reading! :3

FBI Will Graham: I've been hoarding this chapter for a while...sort of? 'Cause I had all but two sentences finished (seriously, that ending was a BITCH to cut off), so it's been done for the most part since before the premiere. So far this season's worse than the last in the way of torturing my emotions. It looks like I'm going to lose both of my favorite female characters. -head implodes, then promptly reassembles- Thanks so much for reading and giving me something to smile about! 'CAUSE SERIOUSLY THIS SHOW IS GIVING ME MASSIVE DEPRESSION.

Partyhard Drunkard XD: Oh, no! I didn't mean to make you cry! I'm so flattered that you want this to last longer, but holy wow, I know I couldn't keep pulling stuff out of my butt. xD haha I tried to tie this up as neatly as I could, so hopefully it was enough. With this fandom, I can't seem to exceed 10 chapters...I highly doubt I'll be able to write more with my new fic either, because I'm so impatient and just like to skip to the action. :P Thanks so much for reading and being supportive!

Ravenclaw992: Yes, but it was an embarrassing last chapter since my need for fluff outweighed reason. haha It's like, "Ok, this show is depressing and now I'm depressed..." -writes fluff to alleviate pain in soul, then promptly regrets every word- xDD Thank you! I'm glad you think I handle Lecter well, cuz I always feel so awkward/self-conscious writing for him. There are some characters that I'd rather not touch, and he's definitely one of them. I guess it's a good thing I don't really ship him with anyone, cuz then I'd be forced to write him in every chapter. lol Thanks so much for reading! :3