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Title: Look To the Light
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
Fandom: Hannibal
Rating: PG-13
Author's Note: Sequel to "Justified."
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.


"You are concentrating far too much on the darkness you see, Will," Hannibal told him. "You should try to focus on more on the positive aspects of your life."

Will almost wanted to laugh at those words.

What positive aspects? he asked himself. At the moment, it felt as though the only good thing about his life was the fact that he enjoyed teaching.

More and more, he was dreading the days when he was out of the classroom and working in the field. He hated viewing those bodies, hated seeing face-to-face the fact that they hadn't been able to save this person, that a life had been brutally taken.

And it seemed that each crime scene only got worse. Each scene was more bloody, each death even more horrific. He couldn't take it any more.

He was tired of seeing death all around him, tired of what he saw during the day spilling over into all of his dreams, robbing him of sleep. He was tired of always being the one who was expected to somehow be able to miraculous "fix" what had happened.

He couldn't fix it. He couldn't bring those people back. All he could do was try to catch whoever had been responsible for those deaths.

How long would people think that was good enough?

It wasn't good enough, Will told himself flatly. Not for Jack, and not for him. Every time he was at a crime scene and saw another body, he didn't just want to catch the person responsible and put them behind bars. He wanted to bring that life back.

Which, of course, was something he couldn't do. He needed to accept that fact, but something in him cried out against the injustice of it.

"You have many positive things going on in your life," Hannibal continued, bringing Will out of his thoughts and back to the present moment. Those dark eyes bored into his, as though they were seeing through him. "I would like to think that I am one of those things."

Will was visibly startled by Hannibal's words.

Was Hannibal hinting at something? Did he want them to be more than simply doctor and patient, more than just friends? Will didn't think that was possible.

Even though he had what he considered an uneasy friendship with this man, something in the back of his mind told him not to trust Hannibal completely. He had a kind of sixth sense about these things; he didn't feel entirely comfortable around his psychiatrist.

He always held things back from Hannibal, rather than telling him all that was in his mind. He felt that those things could be used against his in the future if he did.

And that was a risk he wasn't willing to take.

Will didn't know just where his mistrust came from; he only knew that it was there, that it existed, and that he wasn't ready to let go of it.

He didn't think he could. He couldn't make himself trust Hannibal; trust had to be earned, it wasn't something that could be demanded, or forced from a person. If he was going to give his trust, he would have to come to that point himself, in his own time.

He really didn't think that he would. There was something in him that pulled back from Hannibal, that told him it wasn't safe to place his trust here.

He didn't know why he felt that way. Certainly Hannibal had given him no reason for it. But he knew from past experience that he should always listen to his instincts.

That was exactly what he intended to do. If that voice in the back of his mind was screaming at him, then he was going to heed it. He didn't care if it made people angry; they couldn't insist that he trust them when he knew in some way that he shouldn't.

If Hannibal was asking for his trust, he had to know that it wouldn't be freely given, not at this early stage of their relationship, friendship, whatever one wanted to call it.

Hannibal was speaking again; Will had to force himself to pay attention to the other man's words.

"There is darkness in your life, Will, that is obvious," Hannibal was saying. "You see that darkness every day in your work. But there is also a great deal of light."

Was Hannibal referring to himself as that light? Will wanted to snort and shake his head, but that would be hurtful to Hannibal, if he was indeed saying what Will thought he was. It would be horribly rude of him, and somehow, that reaction didn't seem quite right.

"You need to look to the light, Will, rather than always focusing on the darkness," Hannibal continued. "I know that it isn't always easy, but you must try to do that."

Was he kidding? Did he know what he was saying?

He couldn't expect Will to just hand over his trust, to just be able to look at the proverbial silver lining when so much darkness surrounded him. He tried to look on the bright side as much as he could, really he did. But sometimes, it just wasn't possible.

If Hannibal expected him to always be able to look to the light, then he was asking for too much. Yes, he could see light at times, but sometimes it didn't break through the darkness.

Agitated, Will rose to his feet, starting to pace. "It's almost impossible to see that light sometimes. When I have those dreams ,and they get increasingly worse, the light disappears. I'm groping for it, trying to find it, but it doesn't always shine through for me."

Hannibal nodded, watching Will as he walked about the room.

"I understand that, Will," he said, his voice very soft, very patient. "But perhaps you aren't looking for that light in the right place. Perhaps you need to widen your vision."

There it was again -- words that Will couldn't help but see as a subtle hint of some sort. Was Hannibal daring to suggest that he was the light that Will should look towards? He wanted to ask just what those words meant, but a part of him was afraid to do so.

He stopped by the window, looking out into the garden at the back of the house. It was just starting to spring into bloom, buds popping up in all kinds of colors.

Was this the sort of light that Hannibal meant? Did the other man mean to encourage him to look at all of the beauty in the world that he lived in, the miracles that surrounded him on a daily basis, rather than always focusing his attention on the dark side?

He tried to do that, every time he went for a walk in the wood around his house, or went fishing, or simply sat outside enjoying the open air.

Or maybe that wasn't what Hannibal meant at all.

It startled him to feel Hannibal suddenly standing right behind him; he realized that the other man was so close he could feel warm breath on his neck.

The sensation made Will's body stiffen for a moment; he was paralyzed, unsure of what to do or say, a kind of fear holding him in place. What was Hannibal doing? Did he realize just how close he was? Did he mean to be so close, or was it an unconscious movement?

Slowly, he turned until he was facing Hannibal, gazing into those dark eyes. He wasn't sure what he could see written there, but it definitely wasn't light.

It was darkness. And fire. And .... and desire.

Before Will had a chance to register just what that might mean, Hannibal's hands were on either side of his face -- and then those lips were on his.