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Title: Always in the Dark
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
Prompt: 37, Moon
Author's Note: Sequel to "Memory Rising."
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the lovely Hannibal Lecter or Will Graham, unfortunately, just borrowing them for a while. Please do not sue.
***Will gazed up at the moon, full and bright in the night sky.
Was Hannibal looking at that same moon? he wondered. Was the other man thinking of him, and trying to find a way for him to access his blocked memories?
That was all he himself had been able to think about lately, until he was at the point where his mind revolved around nothing but that issue. It was starting to make him feel as though he was just like one of his dogs, chasing his tail, turning around in never-ending circles.
So far, he had come up with a complete blank as far as opening his mind to those memories. He'd done everything that he could think of, yet they remained locked away.
Will groaned softly, closing his eyes and shaking his head as though to clear it.
Why couldn't those memories break free of their chains and surface to the forefront of his mind? That would give him some peace, which he desperately needed.
But no, they remained frustratingly hidden, keeping him in the dark. He wished that the brightness of the moon that had shone down on him on the night that he was attacked would make those memories come flooding back, illuminating them in its glowing, silvery light.
Had the moon been shining down that night? Will frowned, trying to remember. He took a deep breath, letting his mind clear, then closed his eyes again.
Yes, the moon had been out -- he was sure of it. He could remember it coming out from behind a cloud -- and showing him that fearsome stag's head.
That was what he had seen; the more he thought about it, focused on that vision, the more he was sure of it. But that obviously couldn't be real; the person who had attacked him must have been wearing a mask of some kind, obviously intended to hide his identity.
Or had his mind simply been playing tricks on him, making him think that he'd seen something he knew didn't exist in the real world that he lived in?
Will shook his head, feeling even more frustrated than he already had been.
This was hopeless. The more he tried to force his memory to clear, to give him an unimpeded picture of what had happened that night, the cloudier it became.
If only the moon could illuminate his mind, his memories, the way it did the sky, he thought with a sigh, opening his eyes and looking up at the star-spangled night again. It would be so easy if that could happen, and he'd feel an oppressive weight slip off his shoulders.
But for now, he was stuck with carrying that weight, and with not knowing just what had happened on the night that he was attacked.
He was starting to resign himself to never finding out, to always being in the dark.
That darkness would, Will was sure, eventually obliterate him.
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