“Listen, you gotta stop starin’ at’im like that,” Neph hisses to Hannibal, “You’re freaking him out.”
The ‘him’ in question is an aisle and a half away, looking at Iron Man action figures with his hands clasped behind his back. Neph focuses the full force of her attention on Hannibal partly to make sure he understands the seriousness of her instruction, but also because watching this tiny version of Will carefully not-touch things he can’t have wrenches at her heart.
“I know it’s weird,” she continues under her breath. The squeaky wheel on the shopping cart she pushes before her should keep Will from overhearing. “Trust me, I do, but it’s only for ten days.”
Probably, she does not add. Hannibal himself is proof that the timewarp magic might not abide by the rules they think they know. Neph can’t blame him for wondering if he’s ever going to get his Will back, or if this might happen again and strand them with a twelve-year old version. She’s been thinking the same thing since she went to hassle Will about breakfast and found an eight year old sleeping in his bed, wearing his White Stripes T-shirt.
Mik might be willing to make a housecall for something this weird, and he might be able to tell them if this is only temporary, but Neph’s had other priorities. Like: convincing a suspicious mundie kid that his dad dropped him off the night before ‘cuz he’s looking for work in the area and knew Neph from a worksite down south. She doesn’t think he’s totally on board yet, but the fact that she knew his dad’s name and where they were living when Will was actually eight seems to’ve helped.
So did the way she’d said “I dunno kiddo, he just showed up and handed you off, said he’d be back in like a week” as though it were totally normal. He seemed to accept it as such, which put the first crack in her heart. Neph’s always understood why Will thinks so little of his worth to others, but to see it reinforced in a kid this small…
She made some similar grumbles about his dad not even packing him a bag, as any put-upon acquaintance might. Neph hadn’t meant to embarrass Will with it, had only thought it’d sell the story better, but he’s been pretty quiet since she suggested hitting up Target for some child-sized basics. Anything to get out of their house while Hannibal processes this (temporary) new reality and Will gets used to the two of them.
“Hey Will, you wanna come pick out a shirt?” she calls down the aisle. They’d dressed him in a mishmash of things from her drawers, but he’s swimming even in her shops-in-the-juniors-section-ass handmedowns. “And, like, some pants?”
Hannibal has not been the most discrete. He never really is, a fact Neph reminds him of often. A fact Will would remind him of just as often, if Will wasn't currently inhabiting a different...frame of mind.
"...I will try." Hannibal says, in what he thinks is an even tone of negotiation. It comes out more in what his Aunt would have called 'childish displeasure'. Sulky, is perhaps what a normal human might say.
Will hears Neph from down the aisle, turns back towards them in a slow half-circle. He brings a hand up towards his mouth on clear reflex, flinches away at the last second and keeps it going until he's worrying it through his curly hair instead. It's been a while since Hannibal took a child development class, but he's reasonably certain that thumb sucking at age eight is not a good sign, regardless of whether or not Will's doing that in public. A flicker of memory about neglect victims lights up in Hannibal's mind, almost unbidden, and he thinks again of Will's father rotting alone in that terrible apartment.
It's too good a fate for him.
"Only if you're sure it's not too much money." Will says by way of final protest. Simply getting him in the store had been enough of a battle that Hannibal is not surprised that he's still giving out token resistance. Hannibal is starting to direct their cart, though, urging Neph along who immediately follows suit, and Will does trundle along after them.
He looks ridiculous in Neph's borrowed clothing. But Hannibal can't help a part of him enjoying the sight of a child in them at all - at what it implies for family.
Will's younger than Mischa would have been by now, but older than Hannibal ever got to see her at. Hannibal's never interacted with an eight year-old before. He still watches him curiously as they push along the aisles, Will watching him back with suspicious eyes.
They're almost at the correct section - so says the sign hanging above the aisle - when Hannibal thinks he's catching something in Will's returned stare, the one that meets him every time Hannibal turns back to check that he's still watching them. "What is it?" Hannibal and Neph each have a hand on the cart, Neph truly pushing it and Hannibal absently taking an excuse to walk closer to her. Will stares at the space between their hands on the cart, then back at Hannibal.
"...Aren't you really young to be married?" Will asks, and Hannibal's brain nearly catches whiplash with the force of his beaming smugness.
Hannibal glances back at Neph, expectant delight in his eyes. "I suppose we are." Is all he agrees to.
Edited (i'm sorry i promise i'll proofread BEFORE hitting post comment next time OTL) Date: 2017-08-26 03:14 am (UTC)
Because she does, in fact, understand how weird this is and how bewildering it can be to lose a...partner, Neph reaches up and smooths Hannibal's hair away from his face. Her mouth twists to the side, trapping redundant reassurances. They'll fix this. They will.
And if the process of fixing it raises questions about why they haven't done the same for Hannibal, well...
Will comes back to them on silent sneakered feet and, look, Neph knew a lot of kids in foster care, but you could sort most of 'em into two general categories: the ones who coped by making themselves quiet, and the ones who coped by being impossible to ignore. No question as to which one Will is, was, or always has been. Her hand falls back to her side as she turns to him, looking down not-quite-as-far-as-expected. He wasn't a big eight year old, but she's not a very big eighteen year old. So, hey, it all works out.
"M'sure," she says, with a nod that adds I checked the budget. "Your dad left some money for food and stuff, said he didn't expect us t'feed you for free, but you don't look like you eat a lot and this one--" a thumb jerks at Hannibal, who's momentarily traded in his creepy stare to glare at the squeaky cart wheel. "--cooks, like, all the time. So we can put that money to gettin' you some clothes an' call it Back To School Shopping."
Summer's spiraling the drain, she feels it every time she slips out her window. The night bites more than it did just two weeks ago. Hm, Will might need a jacket, or at least one heavier layer...
She has one hand on the cart and the other reaching for a child-sized hoodie with appliquéd shark heads for pockets, when Hannibal speaks directly to Will for the first time.
It goes about as well as she probably should've expected.
"...Aren't you really young to be married?" says the eight year old, skeptical in a way Neph never realized only children could be. She'd be annoyed if she weren't so aware of Hannibal's clockwork brain popping a spring and flying into maximum gear right next to her. He looks at her with victory shining in his eyes and poised in his freakin' dimples, and Neph--
--breaks into a wide grin in response. This is gonna mess with Will so hard when he gets back, which is only fair if they're gonna babysit him for the next week and a half. And anyway, 'married' is as good an explanation as any for what he's likely to see all week, the way they share each other's space and how she curls up with her feet thrown over his lap on the couch.
She's not grinning because it's nice for someone to notice they're close, to comment on it in a way that isn't suggestive. It certainly doesn't spark a little ball of sunlight in her ribcage, not at all.
"Yeah but we're not married," she sniffs as she turns the cart towards a rack of shirts. "We're engaged. That's, like, marriage with takebacksies."
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timeasmymeasure
AU 2.ohgodwhy
Date: 2017-08-13 08:15 am (UTC)The ‘him’ in question is an aisle and a half away, looking at Iron Man action figures with his hands clasped behind his back. Neph focuses the full force of her attention on Hannibal partly to make sure he understands the seriousness of her instruction, but also because watching this tiny version of Will carefully not-touch things he can’t have wrenches at her heart.
“I know it’s weird,” she continues under her breath. The squeaky wheel on the shopping cart she pushes before her should keep Will from overhearing. “Trust me, I do, but it’s only for ten days.”
Probably, she does not add. Hannibal himself is proof that the timewarp magic might not abide by the rules they think they know. Neph can’t blame him for wondering if he’s ever going to get his Will back, or if this might happen again and strand them with a twelve-year old version. She’s been thinking the same thing since she went to hassle Will about breakfast and found an eight year old sleeping in his bed, wearing his White Stripes T-shirt.
Mik might be willing to make a housecall for something this weird, and he might be able to tell them if this is only temporary, but Neph’s had other priorities. Like: convincing a suspicious mundie kid that his dad dropped him off the night before ‘cuz he’s looking for work in the area and knew Neph from a worksite down south. She doesn’t think he’s totally on board yet, but the fact that she knew his dad’s name and where they were living when Will was actually eight seems to’ve helped.
So did the way she’d said “I dunno kiddo, he just showed up and handed you off, said he’d be back in like a week” as though it were totally normal. He seemed to accept it as such, which put the first crack in her heart. Neph’s always understood why Will thinks so little of his worth to others, but to see it reinforced in a kid this small…
She made some similar grumbles about his dad not even packing him a bag, as any put-upon acquaintance might. Neph hadn’t meant to embarrass Will with it, had only thought it’d sell the story better, but he’s been pretty quiet since she suggested hitting up Target for some child-sized basics. Anything to get out of their house while Hannibal processes this (temporary) new reality and Will gets used to the two of them.
“Hey Will, you wanna come pick out a shirt?” she calls down the aisle. They’d dressed him in a mishmash of things from her drawers, but he’s swimming even in her shops-in-the-juniors-section-ass handmedowns. “And, like, some pants?”
no subject
Date: 2017-08-26 03:12 am (UTC)"...I will try." Hannibal says, in what he thinks is an even tone of negotiation. It comes out more in what his Aunt would have called 'childish displeasure'. Sulky, is perhaps what a normal human might say.
Will hears Neph from down the aisle, turns back towards them in a slow half-circle. He brings a hand up towards his mouth on clear reflex, flinches away at the last second and keeps it going until he's worrying it through his curly hair instead. It's been a while since Hannibal took a child development class, but he's reasonably certain that thumb sucking at age eight is not a good sign, regardless of whether or not Will's doing that in public. A flicker of memory about neglect victims lights up in Hannibal's mind, almost unbidden, and he thinks again of Will's father rotting alone in that terrible apartment.
It's too good a fate for him.
"Only if you're sure it's not too much money." Will says by way of final protest. Simply getting him in the store had been enough of a battle that Hannibal is not surprised that he's still giving out token resistance. Hannibal is starting to direct their cart, though, urging Neph along who immediately follows suit, and Will does trundle along after them.
He looks ridiculous in Neph's borrowed clothing. But Hannibal can't help a part of him enjoying the sight of a child in them at all - at what it implies for family.
Will's younger than Mischa would have been by now, but older than Hannibal ever got to see her at. Hannibal's never interacted with an eight year-old before. He still watches him curiously as they push along the aisles, Will watching him back with suspicious eyes.
They're almost at the correct section - so says the sign hanging above the aisle - when Hannibal thinks he's catching something in Will's returned stare, the one that meets him every time Hannibal turns back to check that he's still watching them. "What is it?" Hannibal and Neph each have a hand on the cart, Neph truly pushing it and Hannibal absently taking an excuse to walk closer to her. Will stares at the space between their hands on the cart, then back at Hannibal.
"...Aren't you really young to be married?" Will asks, and Hannibal's brain nearly catches whiplash with the force of his beaming smugness.
Hannibal glances back at Neph, expectant delight in his eyes. "I suppose we are." Is all he agrees to.
oh. my. god. did. you. just.
Date: 2017-08-26 08:20 am (UTC)And if the process of fixing it raises questions about why they haven't done the same for Hannibal, well...
Will comes back to them on silent sneakered feet and, look, Neph knew a lot of kids in foster care, but you could sort most of 'em into two general categories: the ones who coped by making themselves quiet, and the ones who coped by being impossible to ignore. No question as to which one Will is, was, or always has been. Her hand falls back to her side as she turns to him, looking down not-quite-as-far-as-expected. He wasn't a big eight year old, but she's not a very big eighteen year old. So, hey, it all works out.
"M'sure," she says, with a nod that adds I checked the budget. "Your dad left some money for food and stuff, said he didn't expect us t'feed you for free, but you don't look like you eat a lot and this one--" a thumb jerks at Hannibal, who's momentarily traded in his creepy stare to glare at the squeaky cart wheel. "--cooks, like, all the time. So we can put that money to gettin' you some clothes an' call it Back To School Shopping."
Summer's spiraling the drain, she feels it every time she slips out her window. The night bites more than it did just two weeks ago. Hm, Will might need a jacket, or at least one heavier layer...
She has one hand on the cart and the other reaching for a child-sized hoodie with appliquéd shark heads for pockets, when Hannibal speaks directly to Will for the first time.
It goes about as well as she probably should've expected.
"...Aren't you really young to be married?" says the eight year old, skeptical in a way Neph never realized only children could be. She'd be annoyed if she weren't so aware of Hannibal's clockwork brain popping a spring and flying into maximum gear right next to her. He looks at her with victory shining in his eyes and poised in his freakin' dimples, and Neph--
--breaks into a wide grin in response. This is gonna mess with Will so hard when he gets back, which is only fair if they're gonna babysit him for the next week and a half. And anyway, 'married' is as good an explanation as any for what he's likely to see all week, the way they share each other's space and how she curls up with her feet thrown over his lap on the couch.
She's not grinning because it's nice for someone to notice they're close, to comment on it in a way that isn't suggestive. It certainly doesn't spark a little ball of sunlight in her ribcage, not at all."Yeah but we're not married," she sniffs as she turns the cart towards a rack of shirts. "We're engaged. That's, like, marriage with takebacksies."