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Title: Change the Past
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
Author's Note: One-shot.
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.
***Would he change the past if he could?
Of course he would, Will told himself firmly. That was a ridiculous question to ask. There was so much that he would change, if it were possible.
First and foremost, he would never have met Hannibal, never have had such a monster in his life. And he would never have believed all of Hannibal's lies and deceptions.
He'd been such a fool to actually think that they were friends, that there was some sort of a connection between them, Will thought bitterly. He should never have been so gullible where Hannibal was concerned. He should have been more wary, more careful.
But then, he really shouldn't blame himself, he thought with a soft sigh. Hannibal was good at hiding what he really was. He had fooled so many people.
He'd fooled everyone in the FBI, that was for sure. As well as all of his victims -- at least the ones who'd had the chance to know him a bit before their untimely deaths.
Hannibal was good at wearing a human face.
Still, that false show of humanity didn't completely cover the monster underneath. Will was sure that if he'd been more cautious, he would have seen it sooner.
It had taken being framed for murder and being sent to prison for him to see what really lurked behind that mask, hidden in the shadows that Hannibal kept himself cloaked with. He had hidden in those shadows for most of his life, more than likely.
He was used to lies and subterfuge, to putting up a front. He was used to making people believe that he was something completely other than what he was.
He was a killer. A conscienceless murderer.
Will shuddered to think that at one time, he had been close to Hannibal, and getting closer. He had let himself reach out, believing that the other man understood him.
That had been yet another lie of Hannibal's; he'd never really wanted to understand Will, to delve into who Will really was. He had only wanted to re-create Will in the image of what Hannibal wanted him to be -- and that was nothing more than a carbon copy of himself.
He'd never do that, Will told himself fiercely. He would never the kind of person Hannibal was -- a murderer who had no hesitation in taking innocent lives.
Yes, he had a dark side. Everyone did. But he was comprised of equal parts light and dark -- though he hoped that the light was far more prevalent within him.
He was a good person. He wasn't like Hannibal.
Just the thought of being anything like Hannibal Lecter made him recoil in horror; he could accept that he had a darkness within him, but he would never let that dark side of his psyche have free rein. He would never kill in the way that Hannibal did. That wasn't who he was.
Just the thought of taking all of those lives -- and knowing what Hannibal had used the bodies for -- made Will feel sick. He closed his eyes, fighting down a wave of nausea.
Yes, if he could change his past, he would never have met Hannibal and held out a hand in friendship. He would have never believed that Hannibal was his friend.
That hadn't gotten him anything but a lot of grief and self-doubt. He had ended up in jail, on trial for his life, accused of crimes that Hannibal had committed and framed him for. And now where was he? Flat on his back in a hospital bed, after fighting for his life yet again.
Will winced as he gingerly touched the bandages on his stomach.
He would carry the scars of what Hannibal had tried to do to him for the rest of his life. Oh, the bastard might have deliberately missed his vitals, but he could have easily bled out.
Yes, the cops and the paramedics had been on their way, but they might not have made it there in time. And he could have died there on that floor beside Abigail's body.
At the thought of Abigail, tears stung Will's eyes, and he squeezed them tightly shut. That was what had hurt the most; being framed for the murder of the girl he'd been coming to think of as his adopted daughter, and then seeing her butchered in front of his eyes.
That had proved beyond any shadow of a doubt that Hannibal had never understood him, and certainly had never been his friend.
No friend would do something so unbelievably cruel.
The pain of losing the one person he'd thought of as his family still seared into his heart. That was one of the main things that he would change, if he could rewrite history.
Will shifted uncomfortably in the hospital bed, sighing softly as he opened his eyes again to stare up at the ceiling. He couldn't change the past. History couldn't be rewritten to suit him. What had happened was over and done with, irrevocable. He couldn't make it come out differently.
As much as he wanted to change the past, it was impossible. He would just have to learn to live with the mistakes that he'd made, and hope that he wouldn't be so foolish again.
If only those mistakes hadn't caused so much pain and death.
He didn't doubt that Abigail had died because of Hannibal feeling that Will had betrayed him. Even though it had been Hannibal who killed her, that blood was on his own hands.
But what else could he have done? Will asked himself. He couldn't let Hannibal simply walk away, and there was no way he himself would have gone on the run with him.
That was the last thing he wanted to do -- to be a criminal just like Hannibal, forever looking over his shoulder, living in fear that they would be caught. He couldn't live like that. It was no kind of a life for anyone, particularly for someone who found what Hannibal did utterly vile.
Hannibal was a killer, and Will wasn't going to lower himself to become like him. It might be what Hannibal wanted, but it definitely wasn't what Will wanted.
What he wanted was to put Hannibal behind bars, to take revenge not only for himself and what Hannibal had put him through, but for his other victims and their loved ones.
No, that wasn't entirely true, was it? he asked himself.
What he really wanted was to change the past, to make it all work out differently than it had. What he wanted was for everything to have been .... brighter.
And what would he do if it was? Will thought with another sigh, this one heaved from his chest. Would he feel any better? Would Hannibal be seen as a friend and not his worst enemy? No, of course not. He doubted that thing would be much different, actually.
But Abigail would still be alive, he thought, biting his lip. He wouldn't be here in the hospital, more than likely -- and he wouldn't have this thirst for revenge.
Yes, he wanted everything to be different. He wanted to change the past.
The time to make things work out different had come and gone. There was no use wishing to change the past, because it couldn't be done, and well he knew it.
But that didn't stop him from wishing that it could be so.
With another sigh, Will pulled the covers up a round him, hoping that he wouldn't be confined here for much longer. He was ready to go home and start the search for Hannibal.
When he found his enemy, this time, things would be different.
This time, he would have the upper hand.
And he would use that advantage ruthlessly.
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