infomodder: under the mighty hand of God, that He may exalt you in due time: (humble yourselves therefore)
ᴀᴘʀɪʟ's ʜᴜsʙᴀɴᴅ ([personal profile] infomodder) wrote 2015-02-06 02:48 am (UTC)

[Will doesn't think she knows, either, but if she doesn't want to get into the process of unraveling that hellish nightmare with him right now, he's not going to press. He drags one leg up to cross over his knee, half on the bed as he resettles to make room for Ziggy wherever she might want to move. Or flop, either or.]

No. [He says after a long pause, licking his lips and shaking his head.] It's a waste of energy to be mad at him. [Because he's not here. Because Will might be dead if the Porter ever decides to shuffle him back to Baltimore. Because Hannibal left a great deal of room for Will to be mad at himself. He's smaller, here and now, one hand Ziggy's faithful servant and the other fiddling with the hem of his pants around his ankle.] So I...don't.

[Doesn't waste the energy or fuel his entire existence off his anger at Hannibal Lecter.

But, oh. That in no way means he's forgotten, does it? Could anyone?
]

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