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Title: Room Full of Memories
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
Prompt: 5, Memory
Author's Note: Sequel to "Replay."
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 looked around him, tears filling his eyes.
This was the room where he had almost died. It was a room full of memories, scenes replaying inside his own head in a flash, over and over again.
It was as though those memories were on a continuous loop; he couldn't shut them off, couldn't make them go away. Over and over again, he saw Hannibal murder Abigail, only moments after he had discovered that the young girl was still alive. He'd had to grieve for her all over again.
And then Hannibal had embraced him -- just before the bastard had gutted him. He could still feel the pain; his hand went to the scar on his stomach.
He could still feel the pain of what had caused that horrific marking.
The memory filled his senses; Will closed his eyes, breathing hard, fighting to push that memory away. He didn't want to feel it again. It was still too painful.
He didn't want to be here in this room full of memories; he didn't want to feel this pain that sliced through him like a cold winter wind. But he had to face that painful past if he wanted to be able to put it behind him, make peace with it, and move into the future.
He had to remember everything that Hannibal had done here, how those actions had cut into his heart and soul as much as they had sliced into his flesh.
If he didn't remember it, if he didn't let that emotional pain sink into him as much as the physical pain had, then he would never be able to put it behind him and move ahead.
He had to do this, Will told himself as he turned in a slow circle, wincing as he took in the pool of blood on the floor. His blood, the blood that he had thought would drain out of him slowly, too much of it pooling around him before the ambulance could arrive.
He'd been so sure that he would die in this room, just as Abigail had. But he hadn't. He had survived, and he had put Hannibal behind bars.
He could be proud of himself for that, if nothing else.
Will swallowed hard as he stared at the pool of blood on the floor where Abigail had died. He could remember that sight as though it had happened yesterday.
He would never forget it. That vision would be etched in his mind for all of eternity, and even though he would manage to put his grief for the girl who he'd almost thought of as a daughter aside and move on with his life, he knew that a part of him would always mourn for her.
The tears were coming, and he didn't even try to hold them back. There was no reason to, he told himself. There was no shame in crying.
He let the tears stream down his face, almost welcoming their presence.
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