Hannibal knew the knowledge of Abigail being alive would be vital to his becoming, so he had shown her to him. He had cried, holding onto her, making her promise he had not done anything to her. She said he had taught her how to play the harpsichord, that she had agreed to getting her ear cut off, that the blood was clinically taken. He could deal with all that, he could, now that he knew Abigail was alive, that her death was only a pretense for Hannibal to toy with him.

 

"Have you made your decision?" Hannibal asks him as they lay in bed together, doting on their daughter, Hannibal's nimble fingers at her long locks, clearing out any knots in his path.

 

"Oh, of course I have," he says. "I might've betrayed you if I still thought Abigail was dead. But this way… this way, I can follow you to the end of the world."

 

Abigail grabs at him, buries her face on the crook of his neck. 

 

"Oh, it is not the end of the world I'm planning to go to after we kill Jack," Hannibal says simply. "Italy is my priority. If you'd prefer to go somewhere else in Europe, though, be my guest."

 

Will smiles and leans in to kiss him. The routine of kissing Hannibal, of having him, of having him with him, felt incredible, like a gift he had done nothing to earn. To have Abigail with them, happy and alive and showing him how she plays the harpsichord, had only settled his love for their little family.

 

"Are we going to eat Jack?" he asks, tilting his head, a hand around his daughter's waist.

 

Hannibal hums and smiles. "I never let a kill go to waste."

 

Abigail grins. "At least you're not pretending you're *honoring* them."

 

"Oh, no," he replies, leaning in to give her a forehead kiss. "I am a much different breed from your biological father, Abigail."

 

"I'm aware," she says. "You are so much better than him."

 

"We're going to have a nice little dinner before leaving the country," Will says, cuddling up close to both of them. "All the parts of Jack Crawford that are good enough for your kitchen, Hannibal, in our plates. And then we'll leave off to Italy." He pauses. "Do we have fake identities?"

 

"Yes," Hannibal nods. "I've got perfect ideas and the papers are almost ready. I assume neither of you knows Italian? Because then you two can pose as tourists— Abigail as an international student, even."

 

Her eyes gleam. "That's an awesome idea."

 

"I could even actually enroll you into an Italian college, if you'd like."

 

"If you find classes in English, sure.

 

Hannibal nods. "I will be sure to get you a career, Abigail."

 

Yeah, Will has made up his mind about whose side he is on. Will has made up his mind about who he really is spying on.