smallredboy

Author notes: Also for fffc's 100th Special with the prompt "leaving" and femslashficlets tarot table with The Sun.

The problem lies on that Margot has everything at her disposal.

Mason is dead, and with the birth of Morgan, the money is hers. All of the Verger money, on pigs and slaughter and bacon, lies at her fingertips. It's asphyxiating, especially when all she needs to do run away, now that Hannibal has broken free out of his chains.

"We need to go," Alana says, kissing the top of Morgan's head.

"Yeah," she agrees. "We do." A long pause follows. Her stomach is all up in knots. All she can think of is the constant repeat of the threats Hannibal made, how her family, how her wife all belongs to him. They are in debt to him, from that night in his kitchen. If they are to live, it will follow them for the rest of their days. "Where to?"

"Somewhere," Alana replies. "Somewhere in Europe. Somewhere Hannibal won't think about."

"Eastern Europe, then," Margot offers. "We should just… move around frequently, maybe."

She shakes her head. "But Morgan's going to be so alienated. Every so often he'll have to learn a new language, meet new people. I can't do that to him."

"We have to," she presses. "We have to. If we go stagnant he'll eventually find us and he'll—" She tears up. "I don't want to have to deal with him."

"What's wrong?" Morgan asks softly, burrowing his face on Alana's chest.

That's what breaks Margot into tears, them rolling down her cheeks. They could do anything they wanted, but it is too many options— too many ideas around them, asphyxiating her as she considers their next move.

All she wants to do is have her family be safe from him. But there's too many options in that alone.

"Nothing, baby," Alana replies. "Mama's just emotional. It's all fine. Let me tuck you into bed, alright?"

"Mm." He hiccups and grips at her shirt tight. "Okay, mommy."

After a few minutes, Alana comes back. There's tears flooding his eyes; she's struggling not to let them out.

"We have to go," Margot says. "We'll figure out the… the details later. We just need to go."

Tears finally slide down her cheeks, and she leans in to hug Margot tight, like if she held her any less close she'd die. Sobs wrack against her shoulder, and she rubs her back soothingly. She understands. Well, she doesn't— but she can empathize with what is happening in her head. It's all upsetting, to be like this, to have to deal with the betrayal of a man she loved. She can imagine it's hard.

"I love you," Alana tells her, over and over. "I love you."

"We'll be safe, okay?" Margot replies, rubbing circles into her back. "We'll be safe from him. He won't get anywhere close to us. And if he does, I will make sure he doesn't touch a hair on you. Okay?"

Alana hiccups a laugh that sounds more like a sob than anything else. "Okay. Okay."