[Will Graham shuts his Goddamn mouth at that. His lips thin out, his nostrils flare, he goes through a range of emotions that are mostly "pissy of the fact that she has a good point" and "pissy of why she has a good point" but Will's not about to argue on this because it can just go so, so badly. Implying that Abigail is dumb (he would never) or somehow making her thing she's less important to him than she believes herself to be (she is everything, she is air and light and color and breath and life, she's divinity onto herself in the way that she's with him always), so the next best thing is...]
Anybody who even thinks it is an idiot and a coward. [His lips twitch, just enough to counter the absolutely awful conversation going on, to make it less grave and morbid. To take away some of the solemnity when Will hands his glass to a passing raccoon and shifts so he can lean forward and gently pluck that bit of grass from her and cover her hand with his own, much like once upon a time ago when things were better. Easier. On the surface, at least.] Look, Abigail. This doesn't have to be like the world we know, this is...something I never could have imagined. And I think, from what I've seen, it could be. Better. A lot better than what we've known and...we can be [ourselves] happy here without having to worry about. The other stuff.
[Hannibal.
Hannibal disliking that Will lied and making Abigail pay for his sins. He'd used the sins of her father to keep Will's mouth shut about a boy buried in the snow, and then he'd used the sins of Will Graham to condemn her. Who really compares to that, right? There haven't been any people mushroom gardens just yet...]
Keep it in mind?
[It's not that they can't discuss this sort of thing, not at all. It's just when Abigail starts presenting it as an inevitability, and one she's already accepted, that's when it starts to feel like it's about to turn into one of his less than pleasant nightmares.
One of his less than pleasant lunches alone at work, only he's not alone. He's talking to her ghost because he can't tolerate the thought she's gone, gone, gone forever from every world that's ever been.]
no subject
Anybody who even thinks it is an idiot and a coward. [His lips twitch, just enough to counter the absolutely awful conversation going on, to make it less grave and morbid. To take away some of the solemnity when Will hands his glass to a passing raccoon and shifts so he can lean forward and gently pluck that bit of grass from her and cover her hand with his own, much like once upon a time ago when things were better. Easier. On the surface, at least.] Look, Abigail. This doesn't have to be like the world we know, this is...something I never could have imagined. And I think, from what I've seen, it could be. Better. A lot better than what we've known and...we can be [ourselves] happy here without having to worry about. The other stuff.
[Hannibal.
Hannibal disliking that Will lied and making Abigail pay for his sins. He'd used the sins of her father to keep Will's mouth shut about a boy buried in the snow, and then he'd used the sins of Will Graham to condemn her. Who really compares to that, right? There haven't been any people mushroom gardens just yet...]
Keep it in mind?
[It's not that they can't discuss this sort of thing, not at all. It's just when Abigail starts presenting it as an inevitability, and one she's already accepted, that's when it starts to feel like it's about to turn into one of his less than pleasant nightmares.
One of his less than pleasant lunches alone at work, only he's not alone. He's talking to her ghost because he can't tolerate the thought she's gone, gone, gone forever from every world that's ever been.]