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Title: No Running Away
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
Fandom: Hannibal
Rating: PG-13
Author's Note: Sequel to "Battle Lines."
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.

***

Running away hadn't done him any good.

But had he really tried to run away? Will asked himself, frowning. He didn't think so. When it had most mattered, he had stood his ground and tried to fight Hannibal.

He hadn't been very good at that for a long time, Will though, a grim smile curving his lips. He'd had the wool pulled over his eyes for far too long.

But those scales had at long last been stripped away, and he had seen Hannibal clearly for quite a while now. He'd never let himself be fooled again; he knew exactly what Hannibal was, and just what kind of a deadly enemy he'd made by refusing to play Hannibal's games.

He'd had no choice in that, not really. Not only was Hannibal a criminal, a murderer who belonged behind bars, but Will knew that if he'd gone along with those games, they would have led to his own death.

He wasn't about to stand back and let Hannibal deliver the killing blow. He had more of a sense of self-preservation than that. He wasn't a lamb to the slaughter.

Hannibal wouldn't catch him unawares again.

What good would trying to run away do him, anyway? Will was all too aware of the fact that Hannibal could find him, wherever he tried to hide.

Hiding wasn't going to keep him safe. No, the only way that he could be assured of his safety was to confront his enemy, to have that final showdown between them.

Of course, he wasn't at all sure that he would emerge from that confrontation with his life. Hannibal had said that they would be bitter enemies the next time they met; Will knew that when they did see each other face-to-face again, one of them wouldn't emerge from the encounter alive.

He was ready for that. He was prepared.

He didn't want to give up his life. But even if he had to give up his own, if he could take Hannibal down into death with him, it would be worth the sacrifice.

He needed to protect the world from Hannibal's evil. It had been allowed to run rampant for far too long. Will didn't want any more innocent people to die.

If Hannibal wasn't stopped, the world would be bathed in blood.

Hannibal viewed the world as his playground, and human beings as pawns. He had never showed the slightest bit of respect for human life; anything that he'd done or said that indicated that sort of respect had been an act. He had been wearing his human mask at the time.

Will knew that Hannibal had no compassion in him. He could put on a good act, but he was a serial killer. He wasn't capable of caring, of tenderness .... of love.

The only person that Hannibal could love was himself, regardless of any protests he might have to the contrary. Will had been fooled by his act before.

He'd never be fooled again. Not now that he saw clearly.

Running away would only mark him as a coward -- both in Hannibal's eyes, and in his own. He wouldn't run. He would stand his ground, and face whatever was coming.

But he wouldn't be so foolish as to go into this confrontation without arming himself. After all, forewarned was forearmed, Will told himself, another grim smile on his lips.

Hannibal had found it easy to fool him in the past, but he was older and wiser now. He knew what Hannibal was -- and in some ways, he knew who the other man was better than he ever had. And he knew now that Hannibal would stop at nothing to vanquish him.

That wasn't going to happen. He might have to make the ultimate sacrifice, but if he did, then he was damn sure going to take Hannibal with him.

This time, there would be no running away. There would be no turning aside from whatever his fate might be, and no trying to avoid it. He would go in with his eyes wide open.

And if things turned out badly, then he and Hannibal would meet again in hell.

***