"How do you feel, Will?" Intently Hannibal watched his each and every move.

For an instant, Will seemed to take in every sensation of his aching body, his pounding heart and tempestuous mind.

"Alive", he eventually answered. "Do you feel alive?"

"More than ever before." A deep yet volatile smile tugged at the corners of Hannibal's mouth. "Almost surreal."

He kept looking at Will unflaggingly, absorbing every even so small detail of his features, burning the very sight of him into his memory, so that he might reach every corner, no matter how dark. Though Hannibal knew all too well, memories would never be enough.

"Like a dream", Will’s voice came to his ear.

"Like a lovely, light and bright chamber I constructed in my mind palace to escape from reality." A place where the broken teacup had gathered itself back together again. "I wonder if someday I open my eyes and find myself back in my vitreous cell."

Slowly, Will raised his hand. And this time, so did Hannibal, sensing the pulse of his palm, the warmth of his skin. And as their fingers intertwined, there was no pane of glass seperating them.

"Touch gives the world an emotional context.

The touch of others makes us who we are. It builds trust."

Bedelia to Will 3.12