Chapter Text
Not quite the same face.
Under no moonlight, barely noticeable but, this face’s nose was slightly more upturned, crook at the bridge less visible, less asymmetrical. Jaw not as sharp, rounder. Gaze not as furrowed. Fainter fewer wrinkles around brighter eyes reflecting the thin starlight from above. Younger.
But overall, the exact same blue eyes looking back at him.
A headache, now too sharp and real, ruled out the doppelgänger being a hallucination. Yet, the eeriness of the vision in front of him felt like it.
His double seemed as transfixed as him, eyes taking as much information from the sight in front of him. They mirrored each other’s confusion, but were clearly processing, drawing the same silent conclusions. Undoubtedly, no one but those closest to them would be able to discern between them based on still looks only.
Will stood frozen, as he inhaled the humid air he felt himself shiver but not from the cold. The night had already taken a dire turn, but this encounter felt viscerally unsettling.
How…why?
Wrong. Bristled with otherness in familiarity. Heavy with off-script potential.
“A walking alibi” inside his head a familiar voice said.
He shut his eyes, and shook off the thought along with his head as he searched for any coherent words to say. His double was no longer staring at him. Will watched him bit his lip, and before he had the chance to say something himself, heard the man talk
“Am I lost?” He instinctively followed the man’s gaze to the same patch of forest ground. “I-I’m sorry, I mean, I think I’m lost. Are you lost too?” The other man’s voice was also like his own, although softly higher in timbre. A lighter coloured cadence, a younger or lighter version of his own.
“I… I’m not sure what time it is.” Will was surprised to hear his own voice say.
He kept studying the face in front of him. Oddly familiar, almost hypnotic. Wearing an old fashioned jacket, warm lined with fleece over a burgundy jumper, muddy jeans and walking shoes. At one point the younger man had drifted his gaze again, as the silence between them dragged, uncontrolled. The man in front looked up at the sky, searching before speaking again.
“My phone died, but…” he paused, studying the night and horizon before raising an arm. “That one is Betelgeuse, and that one is Rigel-“
“Orion is rising.”
“Yes.” His double said brightly. “In one to two hours, Sirius will become visible over there.” He continued, pointing east, a soft smile growing on his face.
“The dog star is the dawn herald” he added, with a subtle smile infected by his double’s.
“Exactly!” It felt odd, hearing a voice so like how he knew his own recorded voice sounded. Just as uncomfortable to hear. “Were you here for the watching event too?” Face and smile beaming towards the night.
“No.” The man’s face and voice fell at his answer
“Oh. You knew... the stars”.
“I fish. Camp. Often.” He corrected. Why was he sharing this? “Helps to know a few. The big ones come in handy.” His look-alike didn’t even seem to be paying attention to his words anyway. Yes, surreal likeness aside, this person was out of character for one of his hallucinations.
“I’ve been walking south. I know there must be a public path at one point. I found this shed” his hands kept bringing fingertips together. “You’re American. Do you live near here?”
Will considered his options in silence before giving an answer. Not knowing how exactly either of them had got where they were in the first place made the decision making complex. Deciding not to answer would be just if not more suspicious than any possible answer. He looked at his muddy clothes again, the possibility of this person having heard or seen something about this night could help him find answers. But, there was also an inherent risk of being recognised by any person he met, he’d have more control now if he kept this man closer. This double, yes, he preferred to keep him closer for now.
“No, I’m actually looking for a new place ‘round here.” You could say that.
“Oh.” The man kept his eyes from going anywhere near his. “uhm, I live near here, I mean. I used to live in Harrington but I moved recently to my own place not far from this forest, you can walk here" He carried on without much pause. "I think, I think technically it’s still Milcombe but people say it’s ‘on-the-way-to’ and they don’t treat it as part of town.” As he talked, he kept running fingertips together as if... soothing himself, Will concluded. “I made a list of places and the pros and cons of living there. The list also had the places I saw. They’re likely off the market now, but I can share it with you, if you want.” He finished his offer still looking at the same spot, just a rise in his voice tone showing an inflection of interest in an answer.
He looked around, the zinc slates on the roof of the shed, wet with dew reflected the little light coming from the stars. If this man had seen anything, would he connect facts in a way that could put him at risk of being caught? Would he tell others? He figured this man would not see or communicate things as most people did but, dead men can’t tell a tale others might be able to put together.
“I chose the area closer to the creek, it’s a longer walk downtown but I can walk to the agency, to work. The bus station is not too far but the service is not reliable.” The man paused for a moment with a quick look his way to check if he was still listening. “Even if it’s closer to the river, its elevation is higher, so their risk of flooding is smaller… This area is not very prone to flooding anyway.” He trailed off as he grew unsure of his attention by the way he started looking at his direction.
Will gave him an awkward smile in return. He had no interest in his personal life, but he could do with local intel about the area he had just moved to.
That thought brought him back to pressing decisions. Should he return to the house now? What to do with the man in front?
“I’m sorry I didn’t… I’m Adam.” With the way Adam was standing it felt like stating a fact rather than an introduction. Again, the moment dragged between them. Will saw him open his mouth to speak a couple times, the pause between introductions growing longer than usual. He could offer the next part of the social script that Adam was probably looking for. Would someone like him be missed?
“I’m Will.”
A nervous smile and a nervous licking of lips as a reply, like a dog, just before going back to the uncomfortable stance and avoiding gaze. “I have a map. I think I know now which direction it’s hom- it’s Milcombe”
“Lead the way, Adam”
This would not be a hunt. This would be disposing, but there could be a way to honour this man’s candidness if he could find out more about his life. He started to walk close behind him.
*-*-*
They were reaching a clearing in the woods. He could recognise this place as where the public path was meant to lead on the map. They had mostly walked in silence the last part of the hour. He should probably say goodbye here, thank the other man, Will, for his company the past hour and head home. Get home and hope for a Sunday closer to his usual routine. Leave the night behind without further awkwardness and unpredicted events.
Leave behind the fact that the man looked just like him. He couldn’t be imagining it, he knew his own face. And the other man surely had also immediately noticed their likeness based on the way he had looked at him, and by the now constant glances he felt on is back while they walked in silence.
He kept on, a few steps too far from the man walking behind him to look back at him without needing to stop and stare, without making it uncomfortable, making it awkward, being rude. He kept reminding himself. So, he kept on. The curiosity itching somewhere at the back of his head, as if a twig kept poking him in the nape. He started scratching it as he moved through overgrown bushes.
“Can I ask you something?” He stopped in his tracks when the question got too big to be contained in his head. He heard Will’s steps come to a stop behind him. He didn’t want to be rude but, “How is that… me and you?” He turned without looking directly at Will, trying to find a way to express the idea without making it sound stupid.
“We look … alike.” Will said simply, which sounded heavily as an understatement.
“Yes.” He faced him.
Will was staring at him. In a way that didn’t make him feel scrutinised in the manner that people often looked at him, but rather, clinically studied, methodically. He knew he looked at people that way as well. Looking at the different parts to get to a whole, a pattern, something he could later recognise or try to imitate. Observing without a judgement, just in pro of understanding. He realised he was also staring intently at the other man. Normally, he would have tried to stop and excused himself for doing so but, strangely, it felt unnecessary.
A glimpse of a scar. Both their hands went in sync to their forehead.
There was a scar on the same area over his brow. They had mirrored each other in such synchrony it felt like looking into his reflection. In that surreal way dreams often had.
The hand that lifted a familiar curl so he could observe it better looked just like his own
No, it was not the same scar. His own was tiny and new, this one was ragged and bigger. Much older. Must have been deep, he frowned.
Adam then felt a hand much like his own again, moving his own hair out of the way.
Examining the different likeness, the same difference.
“Mirror” Said Adam, spellbound.
“Rotary Saw” said Will.
“Huh?” The uncanny feeling was making it difficult to stop staring. As if something was off, very wrong, so much he did not mind the touch on his forehead. He deepened his frown and Will moved his hand away from his face. He knew he was probably making the other man uncomfortable. Oh. The reply must have been a joke, he faked a smile.
Will wasn’t smiling.
He then noticed, covered by stubble, a second scar. Healed, like the one on the forehead. Looked deep and he wondered if he should or not asked how that one was made. He touched his own face.
They let the silence fill in the night. Adam thought about all possible questions, possible opening statements to start small talk, all possible options, he wanted to know about the second scar. But the situation in which he was in felt too foreign to fill with the correct one. The patterns shattered in too small pieces to see an obvious way forward. He only had what came to him naturally, which in this case was staring intensely at the little snagged thread Will had on the left shoulder of his jacket, instead of the ragged mark on his cheek.
Will seemed to be happy to do just the same, eyes on somewhere over his own shoulder.
He hoped that Will did not find the silence too uncomfortable.
“So, you say you live near the end of this forest?”
The sudden question startled him, he needed a minute to think of an answer that he knew should have come easily.
“Yes. I... I think I know the way home, I just need to find the creek. Would you like me to show you the rest of the way?”
He attempted eye contact, feeling both intimidated by and drawn to eyes so much like his own.
“Well, it seems we are going the same direction.” That wasn’t an answer. Maybe he didn’t need to be shown, maybe he didn’t need or want to walk with him.
“Do you mean-? Uhm, Am I bothering you?” In normal circumstances he might have not cared to explain himself to a stranger but... “I’m sorry I have this thing. Uhm. It’s hard for me to… I am on the autism spectrum? People used to call it Asperger’s syndrome?” He had explained himself so many times now, that it should have come out as better rehearsed. “Makes it difficult to know what people are thinking, so I’ve learnt to ask. I need to confirm before I make a bad assumption or lose part of the meaning, I don't want to assume that you-“
“I know about Asperger’s.” Will interrupted.
That startled him “Do you have a sibling or a relative diagnosed with it? I find that people who know someone diagnosed are more likely to be aware of it.” He felt encouraged by finding someone else who would likely be less inclined to be offended or confused by his ways.
“No. No friend or sibling.”
“Oh. I see.” No matter how many times he had had a similar conversation in the past; it always tended to veer off to a different direction from where he aimed it to go. He looked around looking for the path home. It was still slightly too dark to recognise it among the trees that surrounded them.
“It’s fine.” Will breathed deeply and stretched next to him. “You could say I'm on a spectrum… on a spectrum of sorts, but not in the way people normally talk about it” Adam wanted to know what meant by that, but before he could, Will spoke again “I was often asked where I fell, or rather assumed I fell on the spectrum.” He looked tired, Adam wondered if he had been up all night as well. “There are traits in common, not necessarily in the same sense as what you could think.” He said, blinking hard. He knew he did the same thing, and likely looked the same way, when his feelings were hard to put in words for others
Traits. “Are they… you say there were traits, what do you mean?” He knew he shouldn’t ask.
Will took a moment before saying anything again. “Without a commonly used label that explains where I stand on it, I have struggled with some of those shared aspects of the spectrum in the past…” He kept rubbing his face a lot. It made him want to do the same. Adam realised he was probably making him uncomfortable with his questions. And he wasn’t even sure he was understanding him.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t-”
“…on a particular aspect. Knowing too well what the others might be thinking doesn’t always come as understanding them, most people just see it as… Uhm off. Wrong. It's just as bad as not being able to” Will started to walk purposely towards a group of trees. “So, I don’t know how it’s to live being autistic in the same sense as you, but I do know how it can be to live off calibration, and what people can think of that.” He said, rubbing his face, perhaps it was Will’s stim by the number of times he kept doing it. And his own hands were on the way to his own face too, he kept mirroring it, without wanting to.
“People understand it better now.” He said without thinking, following Will between the trees. He realised with a sense of contentment that what he had said felt true to him as he batted branches away from his way.
“I suppose they do.” He heard Will reply as he moved faster and confidently, finding the path in front of them. His hair was just as curly but longer at the back. It had a few seeds stuck and Adam felt the strong compulsion to pick them off. It made his own hair itch.
“How did you find the shed?” Will’s voice asked in front of him. It seemed he had decided to change the topic
“I was looking for the way back to Churchway’s Hill” Adam replied, he took the now wrinkled map out of his pocket, offering it to Will, when the man glanced behind him.
“You had this with you?” He had asked without hints of criticism taking the map. He waited in his spot as Will scanned it, studying it. “It doesn't match the path and the area ‘round the river” he finally said. Adam shook his head as Will handed it back. “so you said you live close, is it close enough to be on this?”
He hesitated to receive it and to give an answer. There was a level of unfamiliarity to this interaction he did not know how to navigate. He studied the other man’s face for clues. His eyes were still on the map when he asked, but likely feeling observed he met Adam's eyes. Eyebrows raised with a relaxed expression. He knew to be wary of giving personal information to a stranger. Will looked honestly interested in his answer.
“These are the mews and stables where my house is.” he pointed at the border of the map where his street was located. “There are not many people living here, it was converted into flats and Airbnb units recently, I'm the only one on this side of the road. The locals don’t like it. Most owners are never around, they say they’re all from the city or foreign. But my unit is still owned and rented by Mr Turnbull who lives in the farmhouse that used to own these stables in the past. The fields next to the stables are also part of his farm, I like to go there at night when it’s clear.”
*-*-*
That would work, no need to meet the owners. Let people assume he is the American who already lives around the flats. And if never seen, let the invisible foreigner be hated by the community. Let the town hate those who rent but don’t live and spend in town, get fired up about unoccupied Airbnbs and gentrification, instead of extradition legislation.
He wondered if the beta bank accounts they had set up years ago were still operating. Had Hannibal emptied them as he had emptied their home?
Hannibal. Not even half a night ago he had a place he called his own. A rest, a welcomed long pause in their constant movement. But always in duet since their fall.
It had been a couple years since he had thought about his separate account at all. He had the feeling, no, confidence that Hannibal always kept track mentally of all their assets. Theirs.
What was theirs now on? What was them, after this night?
Years, years of melding into one another, he never thought he could ever feel blindsided by Hannibal. again. There had been no need to consider intentions or hidden meanings between them for so long.
They just were.
It felt like being stripped. Stripped of skin, raw tissue being left to burn or freeze under the elements. He felt a surge of anguish coming from somewhere in the past where his vulnerability once resided, where it had been hidden until Hannibal liberated everything else to bloom on top. He pushed it down and deep. Opened the door to the hall of anger, let it flush down any other sensation so the feelings retreated where they couldn’t get in the way of planning, design and action. As he once did in the past. He was above doubting himself on matters related to his, their relationship, his immersion to Hannibal, he had been freed, by the same hand that now had disappeared.
Why had he decided to disappear? What was the scheme? Was this a scheme?
He looked at Adam.
He wondered about the possibility of this appearance. It felt too ominous to be mere chance but absurdly obvious to be premeditated. Someone who looked exactly like him…unprecedented, unimaginable, almost oneiric. Yet, there was beauty in it, and Hannibal had always been drawn to beauty.
A face mirror of his, placed for him, then, of all moments possible, with no explanation. He couldn’t believe it as mere cosmic coincidence but couldn’t believe it was meant as a message either. But, how could that ever be planned?
He felt the same anxiety and cold in him that surrounded them. His jumper not warm enough for this time of the year at night. He suddenly felt the weight of a decision not taken. Why had he followed this man this far? Because he couldn’t dare to go back again yet, possibly he had nowhere to go back to now. And it was easier to mindlessly share part of himself to someone who not even himself knew if he would be there at the end of the night to share with again.
Part of himself was still in the past, back there, in a pleasant night; part of him needed answers, and that part of himself was here. Was that part of him able to forget? Forget the possibility and the idea that the part of him sharing a quiet night was never going to join the rest of him again?
It was Adam who had the courage to speak in the silence of the woods around them. “There’s less light pollution this far out but, uhm, you can no longer see the lower magnitude stars.” His voice was neutral, but he could sense the intentionality to break what possibly was an uncomfortable silence for him. Was he offering conversation, comfort?
“And that’s a good thing?” he asked by inertia, and his voice came out sharper than intended.
“Good?” Adam looked at him, eyebrows frowning in confusion, slightly hurt? After a second Will understood, he might be checking for sarcasm.
Will schooled his expression from any mixed signalling and added “It sounds like something that wouldn’t be good, but you said it as a good thing.”
“Oh, yes" Adam's forehead relaxed. "Normally, you would like to see the dimmer stars, that’s why people go far from the city to observe them, and why observatories and space telescopes are built far from light pollution but, uhm, In this case the stars that we can no longer see are the ones closer to east by the horizon” Adam extended his arm “Regulus over there. Close to Venus, that was just visible when we- when I checked before. There’s no moon, so mercury I think may be just disappearing now. Because of the atmospheric haze, w-we, well, you can’t see it because of the trees, it should be in that direction if we were out of the woods. It means the sun is about to rise, by th-“ He suddenly stopped, as if someone had just taken the lightbulb of his inner world. “I’m sorry I’m talking too much, I do that. It’s okay if you tell me if you want me to stop, I prefer when people just say it directly.” His cadence while saying that last sentence felt unfortunately practiced.
Adam had started shifting his weight from one foot to another, still looking at the point where mercury was supposed to be disappearing. Fingertips tiptoeing each other and the moment.
“What about all these other ones?” Will raised his arm to the west and up. “Can you guess which ones will stay visible in the sky the longest?”
Adam had his mouth slightly open as if paused mid-thought. He gaped, then seemed to shake off the self-doubt. “It’s not guessing” and Will found himself listening to him again. Really listening, because there was something about this boy’s voice, even if probably close in age to him. Something about his lecture. It felt conveyed not to entertain but to relieve pressure, an alternative to staying quiet with too loud thoughts.
And the man in front of him continued talking about constellations. And Adam was not someone to gesticulate while talking, that Will knew already. But he kept moving his arms in the air, drawing invisible lines to measure things that likely could not stay still inside his head. He kept talking about which stars told better the time, which ones were dim because they were not as bright, and which ones just because of the distance. And he couldn’t help but notice the tremble in his words when he glanced at Will, as if unsure that he’d still be there, listening, when he looked away from the stars.
But Adam kept being reassured by an honest smile back that he still had an active listener. Will happy to take on that role, instead of the passive one of being betrayed.
“...The light from Regulus is only 79 light-years away, so it looks faint from earth just because it’s just not very bright. But Spica, Spica is faint because it is very far from us to be seen with the naked eye, Spica is two hundred and fifty light-years from here, that’s 2.37 ten to the fifteenth kilometres. The light we see left Spica around the year 1775.” Adam recited as if they were numbers as known and familiar as your first phone number.
“How much is that? Trillions of?”
“Quadrillion kilometres. Are you being polite or are you interested in knowing this?” Adam asked abruptly in a way that felt like he was braced and ready for an answer.
“How much is that in miles?”
Adam smiled brightly and did something fast with his left-hand fingers. Quick calculations, stimming, it didn’t matter. “1.47 quadrillion miles"
“How do you begin to comprehend numbers of that size?” Will said, he was looking at the sky now as well.
“You don’t. Humans are particularly bad at understanding measures as big as that, often underestimating the vastness and magnitudes of space.” Adam replied, this time with a confident and relaxed cadence, infectiously content with the lack of control over such fact and smallness of one, and Will couldn’t stop grinning, mirroring him. His day had taken such an unpredictable turn since early in the night, he had been dreading the moment he would inevitably break down. He had embraced the idea and resigned himself for some sort of violence before dawn. But at this moment he felt… content with what he was experiencing.
“That’s the beauty of it I suppose.” He added and looked at Adam again. His face was still looking to that point far east, now brighter in a shade of pink as dawn started to reclaim the firmament. Warmer light on the strange yet familiar face, over the same shade of blue eyes as him. He felt his breath trapped inside of him, something he couldn’t identify. It was pleasant, which was somehow worse.
He realised that the stargazer would be walking home tonight.
*-*-*