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Title: Of Blood and Death
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Will Graham/Aiden Gillan
Fandom: Hannibal/Blood and Chocolate
Rating: PG-13
Table: 1drabble
Prompt: 29, Blood
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the lovely Will Graham or Lee Fallon, unfortunately, just borrowing them for a while. Please do not sue.


He dreamed of blood. Of teeth. Of death.

The wolves were coming for him. He could feel their hot breath against the back of his neck, hear their snarling. He could hear his own blood pounding in his ears.

His breath was coming in gasps; he was running, moving as fast as he could, but he knew that it would never be fast enough. They would catch him, bring him down as they would a helpless deer. They would tear into him rend him limb from limb, until he was a lifeless heap ....

Aiden sat bolt upright in bed, his eyes flying open, one hand pressed against his chest, as though he had to feel his heartbeat to assure himself that he was still alive.

The dreams were getting worse. More visceral.

Could it be possible that the wolves were close by him, somewhere in the woods around Will's house, and that they were sending him these horrible dreams?

He supposed that was possible -- but no, that couldn't be it. These dreams of blood and fear weren't just dreams, after all. They were memories; the memories of being hunted by the wolves in the forest of Romania, and here in northern Virginia. Those memories were embedded in his soul.

They were also memories of the confrontation with Rafe inside the church in Romania, the fight that had resulted in the werewolf's death and sent the pack after him.

Aiden shivered at that memory; he had thought that it wasn't possible to be any more terrified than he had been when Rafe had attacked him in the church.

But he had been, hadn't he? That horrible night when the pack had caught up to him here, when they had chased him, caught him, and raped him in the woods. They had taken turns with him, laughing all the while, knowing that he wished for death but not giving it to him.

No, he hadn't wanted to die, he corrected himself. He had just wanted it to stop. Mercifully, they had let him go -- but only to keep dragging out the psychological torture.

That wasn't mercy at all. They knew he would dream of blood and fear.

He just wanted the dreams to stop, wanted the pack to go away and leave him in peace. But that was only a pipe dream. They would never stop hunting him.

And by extension, they were hunting Will, too. Aiden felt guilty about drawing Will into the circle of his problems, but if he was honest, he was grateful to have someone at his back. Someone who seemed loyal and kindhearted. Someone who he was sure that he could count on.

He only hoped that being part of this wouldn't get Will killed. It was bad enough that his own blood would be spilled; he didn't want it to happen to anyone else.

Aiden smiled grimly at the thought. That ship had long since sailed, and he knew it.