The Beach, Saturday Morning

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Today would be his only chance. His last chance. He had to make certain everything went well, even if life had shown him that it never did. Nathan Summers's last stand was at hand.

Nathan stared down into the waves, his head hung low, his shadow an unending creature of perfect darkness. Could he get his way? Would he? Just this once?

"You're not calling Dom," the voice over the telephone informed him.

"She needs to know that I'm about to do this," he said, "She needs to be free."

"Okay, first of all, you don't have her phone number. She could be anywhere. Second of all--"

"If I send you a message, will you find her and pass it on?"

There was a long pause. "Ask me about this again tomorrow," Irene said, "And I'll expect the Rumeki government to randomly assign me a raise."

Click.

He longed.

[ open beach, kids ]

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Hannibal was still thinking. Thinking about all the revelations of yesterday, thinking about what he'd known and what he hadn't known. Thinking about his mother and her broken pelvis and had they'd both been abandoned. He couldn't let that happen again.

He would not be left again. His heart couldn't take it. Dying of a broken heart was such a wuss thing too. No, he'd die in a hail of gunfire, if he had to.

And he'd walk this entire beach until he figured out what to do.

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His reverie was interrupted by something... no, someone else. Nathan's head spun to find the source of the disturbance-- no. It couldn't be. They'd said later, right? Much later.

And yet still... "Wade...?" he asked, his fingers trembling with anxiety.

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Hannibal didn't look up. That wasn't his name, after all. He would just keep walking, still lost in thoughts of hairplugs and money problems and being called names at recess.

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"Are you ignoring me now, Wade?" The trembling got worse. He approached. Perhaps he'd been wrong. Perhaps this could never be fixed. They'd broken something and it wasn't going to be pieced back together. "I can... understand that."

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Hannibal did finally look up at least to see how crowded the beach was. If he was going to be walking along some crowded beach, he'd have to watch out for sandcastles in the sand.

There was no one there save him and some other guy.

"What?"

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"I thought we weren't going to... talk... until later, Wade," Nathan said, careful to keep his distance.

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"I think you've got the wrong guy," Hannibal said, shaking his head. "My name's not Wade. Never been Wade. It's not even my middle name."

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He considered the man's features. But... it was Wade? Or was it? Nathan's mind reached out. "Have you had... any blows to the head...? Should I take you to the clinic, before coma strikes?"

[decoder-rings.livejournal.com]

His father hadn't taught him much but he had taught him some things and one of those things were to not talk to strangers. Even strangers with candy. They were just out to manipulate you!

"No!" Hannibal shouted, moving back. "Stop trying to invade my personal life! Did my father send you? Are you a private investigator?"

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"I'm not a private investigator!" Except for that short stint back in... well, okay, there had been a little bit too much murder for him to technically have been an investigator at the time.

But that was really neither here nor there.

"Don't you remember me?"

[decoder-rings.livejournal.com]

"No!" Wait, he'd done some weird things in the past but... "No!"

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"So Wade Wilson has forgotten all about me," he said, sadly, and mostly to himself. He knew it. He knew this must have happened. "I'm too late. That Mountie bastard..."

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"You are...insane," Hannibal said, backing away. "My father sent you to find me, try and talk to me. Your mental manipulation won't work! I'm stronger than that! I'll fight you!"

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"I've never met your father!" Nathan spread his arms wide. "You know that! He died when you failed to save him from getting shot in a barfight when you were seventeen!"

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"You're wrong!" Hannibal shouted, stabbing a finger in his direction. "He was here yesterday, willing to accept me and take me back and I sent him away!"

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"How?" Nathan asked, befuddled to the quick. "How is this possible? Did he return from the dead? Why didn't you tell me?!"

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"Why would I tell you?" Hannibal asked, keeping away from this guy. "I don't even know you. I don't want to know you. You're way too nosy and god knows what you want to do to me. I know your type, I watch To Catch a Predator!"

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"Wade, please, you have to remember!"

Would he have to throw something at Wade's head? Perhaps that would return the memories of their many torrid-- or maybe this was a chance. "Please, Wade."

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"That's not my name!" Hannibal shouted. "Would you listen to me, old man? Hannibal. King. Not Wade. Wade's a name you give to a freaking fish that's just gonna die in a die and get flushed!"

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Nathan squinted at him, uncomprehending. "... How long have you been calling yourself Hannibal? Was it for a job?"

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"You're insane," he said, backing away some more. "I've had enough people doubting me without some giant jackass doing it too! Leave me alone! Stranger! Stranger!"

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"...You're not Wade," he suddenly realized, stepping back dramatically. "Imposter! What have you done to him?!"

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"Maybe he's in a coma," Hannibal said. "Everyone else seems to be. Stay away from me. If Joe Bob sent you, tell him to stick it!"

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"HOW DO YOU KNOW JOE BOB?!" Nathan thundered. "OUT OF MY FACE! BEGONE, YOU USURPER!"

He was crying buckets, too.

[decoder-rings.livejournal.com]

Hannibal fled, not looking back. He was leaving this place. Leaving it now. It was insane and he needed peace! He would go to Maine. Nothing bad ever happened there.