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Title: Chasing the Visions Away
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
Author's Note: Sequel to "Spread Too Thin."
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.
***Hannibal stood there smiling at Will before he hefted the picnic basket in one hand.
"I was concerned about you, Will," he said, his voice soft. "Anyone can tell that you haven't been at your best lately, and I thought that it would be a good idea to check on you."
"Thanks, Hannibal," Will said, knowing that he sounded tired and listless as he held the door open for the other man. That was how he felt, so it was no surprise. "That's nice of you."
Hannibal shook his head as he stepped inside, looking at Will with a worried expression. "Not just nice, Will. I've been concerned about you. Everyone has. Everyone who knows you believes that you are working yourself too hard. These .... visions that you have been seeing are getting to you far too much."
"And how would you feel if you were seeing visions of yourself dead, Hannibal?" Will inquired, following the other man to the kitchen. "Wouldn't you want to make them disappear?"
"How is working too hard, burying yourself in more visions of blood and death, going to make what you see in your own mind go away?" Hannibal asked, turning to him.
Will shrugged; he really had no answer for that question.
He looked down at his hands as he sat down heavily in one of the kitchen chairs, sighing softly. How was he supposed to answer that question?
Of course seeing other dead bodies didn't make his own disturbing visions go away. He wished that it did, but no such luck. But at least he didn't always see himself there.
There were times when he did, and that was bad enough. But he knew that he couldn't make those visions stop, not until he knew what was causing them. And he had no idea where to begin with that. He hadn't though that anyone noticed his consternation, but maybe he was wrong.
"If you're offering to help, to give me some ideas on how to make those visions of my own death stop, then I'm open to pretty much any suggestions," he said, sounding more tart than he'd meant to.
When Hannibal's brow furrowed, Will apologized swiftly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound so .... abrupt," he said, sighing again. "I'm just kind of a wit's end with this, Hannibal."
The other man nodded slowly, looking sympathetic. "Perhaps I can help, Will," he said, his voice soft. "We can put our heads together, and see what we can come up with."
"I've thought about this so much, obsessed over it, even, and I can't come up with any way to make these visions go away," Will told him, knowing that he was starting to sound desperate, and not caring. "I just want them to disappear, and sometimes I think that's only going to happen when ..... when I die."
"You are not going to die, Will." This time, Hannibal's voice was surprisingly strong and firm. "I will not allow that to happen. You are too precious to me."
Will blinked, surprised by Hannibal's declaration. Well. He hadn't expected that. "And just how are we going to make them stop? Any ideas, off the top of your head?"
Hannibal shook his head, smiling slightly as he did.
"Not off the top of my head, no," he answered. "But I am sure that once we talk about this a bit more, and delve into your own feelings, that we will find some solution."
"I hope so," Will said, his voice a bare murmur. "Because this is driving me insane. Every time I see one of those visions, I feel like I'm getting closer to it."
It really did terrify him every time he saw himself lying still and cold, bloody and broken, and he knew that he was seeing his own dead body. He had always known that he had a dangerous job; the danger wasn't what frightened him so much. What was so scary was seeing what could very well be his own future.
"I don't want to be a seer," he whispered. "I don't want to predict anyone else's end, and certainly not my own. This is terrifying, Hannibal. It could turn into another ability that I don't want."
Hannibal laid a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. "We'll discover a way to chase those visions from your mind," he promised, his voice strong and sure. "But for now, it's time for lunch."
With those words, he proceeded to take food out of the picnic basket.
Will sat back, closing his eyes. He hoped that Hannibal was right, and that these disturbing visions would come to an end soon. He didn't think that he could take much more of them.
They were battering away at his sanity, at his peace of mind. The last thing he wanted was to find out that they were yet another disconcerting ability that he had no wish to possess.
He got up to get plates, glasses and silverware, hoping that he and Hannibal would be able to talk this over in detail, and they would come to some kind of conclusion.
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