Will, out of necessity, has always been adaptable, flexible, and ready to move at nearly a moment's notice. Growing up as the only child of a single parent who was also a drifter, Will learned to cope with instability very early on. He doesn't own many things, and most things he does possess don't carry much in the way of sentimental value. He's good at traveling light, and letting things go, which makes the decision to run away with Hannibal that much easier.

There are his dogs, of course, and he does care for them, much more than he cares for most of the human companions in his life. Abigail is gone, and any feelings he'd carried for Alana had been quickly rendered inert the moment she'd entered into a relationship with Hannibal. It wasn't so much that she'd chosen Hannibal over Will; it was that, at the time when they'd begun their romantic tryst, Will had still been futility trying to make both her and Jack believe that Hannibal had framed Will for murder.

Of course everyone will know the truth very soon. But they'll also know that, despite what Hannibal has done, Will has chosen a place at Hannibal's side.

Will follows Hannibal out of the bedroom with one finally glance back at the bed, burning the memory into his mind for later. The dining room gets similar treatment, Will's eyes moving over the table, dinner course still laid out and half eaten, a tableau of a meal interrupted and forgotten. In concert with the state of the bed, the story will be easy to tell: a dinner, a conversation, a decision, and a consummation. And then, of course, an escape.

As they move to the front door, Will finds that he has more regret about leaving this house than his own. While his home carried a lot of comfort for him, Hannibal's was a beacon of transformation, the primary location of his becoming. He knew he'd be able to recall the way it looked when he needed to, but not being able to exist in its physical space again after tonight was a small weight on his finally free heart.