Hannibal stares forward in the dark, watching as the road passes swiftly under them. His offer that night had been one of redemption. Will had that one chance to repent, to decide of his own volition where his loyalty, his heart, his soul, truly lay. Hannibal is glad that Will chose the way he did, because had he followed through with his deception, his betrayal, then things would likely have gotten very messy, and Hannibal could not say with any certainty what state Will might be in afterwards, alive or dead. Surely their friendship would have been shattered. Many might think that Hannibal has no heart to be broken; that situation would have proved them all wrong.

This...leaving together, each choosing the other, committing to each other...is the far preferable outcome.

Hannibal glances at Will, his friend and lover, and remembers with sadness in his eyes what it was like in that instant that he knew. Remembers that mix of emotion: some admiration for a game well played, some disappointment that he had allowed himself to be so blinded...and the pain of betrayal, of offering up himself only to be so thoroughly rejected.

"Freddie Lounds has a quite distinctive scent," he answers, turning his head to again face forward. "When I caught it mingled with your own, I knew that she was alive. From that untruth I was able to construct the outline of your intentions. That you were laying a trap for me, and using our increasing intimacy to lure me into it."