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Title: Satan's Child
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
Fandom: Hannibal
Rating: PG-13
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.


Will stared at Hannibal, unable to think of anything to say.

This was what he had wanted for so long, what he had worked so hard to achieve. And now that it had finally happened, it was anticlimactic.

He had thought that he would feel more Hannibal was caught and put behind bars. But all he felt was a sense of relief, and a need to close his eyes and sleep.

That was all he'd wanted to do since Hannibal had been in jail. Just sleep, sink into a dreamless darkness and forget about everything around him. He wanted to push everything that had happened into the back of his mind and slam a door on it all.

But he couldn't, of course. Will knew that those memories would force themselves front and center, whether he wanted to think about them or not.

That was why he was here, wasn't it? To try to find some kind of resting place for those memories, to put them behind him, to feel as though he could finally move on.

But he couldn't. Not until Hannibal answered some questions.

He could tell from the slight smile quirking the corners of the other man's lips that Hannibal knew what he was going through -- and that he was amused by it.

Anger rose within him, an anger that he couldn't hold back. His life might not have been perfect before this monster came into it, but he was starting to balance himself, to feel as though he had a firm foothold on a kind of normality -- or what passed as "normal" for him.

Hannibal had upset that equilibrium. Hannibal had thrust him into a world where nothing was as it seemed, where he had to look over his shoulder every moment.

He didn't want to be in that world any longer.

"You are looking at me as though you're seeing a butterfly with its wings pinned, Will," Hannibal said, tilting his head to the side. "Is that what you see?"

Will wanted to shake his head, but he knew that in the interests of honesty, he couldn't do that. So he merely sat there, expressionless, his gaze never faltering.

The other man stretched his arms out to his sides in a parody of what he was saying, and Will almost winced. He didn't like that analogy, because in truth, that was exactly how he saw Hannibal now: He was an animal in a cage, there to be studied, nothing more.

But given Hannibal's actions, the horrific things that he'd done, wasn't he in truth nothing more than an animal, albeit one with a highly functioning brain?

"I would like to know just how you view me now, Will," Hannibal told him, his voice quiet. "Come, tell me. Be honest. I know that you prize your honesty above all else."

Those words did make Will wince.

Because they were the truth, and he hated that Hannibal knew the truth.

He cleared his throat, unsure of just what he was going to say. He didn't know how to put what he thought into words that he could say to Hannibal aloud.

And then, suddenly, the words were pouring out, as though they were spoken of their own volition and Will had absolutely no control over them.

"I think you're the devil, Hannibal," Will said between clenched teeth. "I think you're the most evil entity that's ever walked this earth. I don't think that you're redeemable in any way, even though you pretend to be a caring human being. You're not. You have no remorse for anything you do."

The words continued to come out; he couldn't stop them. "I think the best thing I've ever done was to put you behind bars. And I hope you rot here."

Hannibal's smile didn't falter or fade; he just continued to stare at Will, those dark eyes searching his face as though they were attempting to look into his very soul.

Then Hannibal nodded and sat up straighter, raising his brows.

"You are exactly right, Will," he said, his voice very soft, but expressionless. "I am Satan's child. You did the right thing by locking me up, at least in your own eyes."

He continued, his gaze locked on Will's, and the younger man found it impossible to look away. "I will only keep killing were I to be left to my own devices. To me, it is normal and natural to kill. You may see me as being an animal, but I assure you, I am on a much higher plane than that."

Will was startled by those words, though he tried not to let his face show it. How had Hannibal managed to divine just what he himself had been thinking?

Then again, Hannibal had always been good at seeing into him.

"You may think that you have won, Will," Hannibal continued, his voice sinking lower, its tone almost hypnotic. "But you would be wrong. Walls cannot hold me."

"You'll never get out of here. You know that, don't you?" Will retaliated, keeping his tone calm. The worst thing to do in a conversation with Hannibal was to let himself lose control.

"Of course I won't," Hannibal, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his chair, still contemplating Will. "I have known that since the moment I was incarcerated here. But you cannot hold my mind prisoner, Will. And that mind is still agile -- and free."

Will had to admit that Hannibal was right. They couldn't restrain his mind in the same way as they could his body. Which meant that he was still a dangerous man.

Satan's child, he thought, turning the words over in his mind. How long had Hannibal been thinking of himself in that light? The phrase was quite apt for him.

He was certainly a spawn of the devil. Will didn't doubt that fact.

"You're Satan's child, all right," Will said with a nod, willing to at least give Hannibal that. "I don't doubt that you came from the devil. You're a monster."

Hannibal raised his brows again, a small smile quirking one corner of his mouth before he spoke. "Oh, I don't doubt that people who have a very developed moral compass see me as such, Will. But you see, I have none of those morals to hold me back, so I don't view myself in that way."

Again, Will had to admit that Hannibal was right. He had no conscience, no morals. He was a cold-blooded killer, with finely honed survival instincts.

But they had still caught him. He was behind bars, where he belonged.

That thought made his spirits rise. He had done something right. He had put Hannibal here, and here is where he would stay. No one would ever let him go free again.

Will got his feet, his movements slow and deliberate. "Good will always win out over evil, Hannibal," he said, his voice still calm. "You should know that. You might have felt like you were winning for a while, but that was only an illusion. You should have known that you would eventually lose."

Hannibal shook his head, that small smile still on his lips. "Ah, but have I truly lost, Will? The games are still being played. And I can still win them."

Will shook his head, not wanting to have this conversation.

"You might be able to play mind games with us, but you can't keep them up forever," he said, turning to leave the room. "We'll catch on to them eventually -- and we'll beat you."

Hannibal laughed softly, the sound a throaty, rich chuckle in the quiet of the room. "Don't be so sure of that, Will. You really have no idea just what I might be thinking and planning. You have not seen the half of what I am capable of. And when you see more, you will be awed by it."

Will shook his head, an answering ironic smile curving his own lips."Awed? No, Hannibal, that will never happen. I'll only ever be disgusted by you. There isn't room for anything else."

With those words, he turned and left the room without looking back.

Satan's child, he thought as he walked down the front steps of the building, glad to be back outside in the clear light of day, the sunshine beating down on him.

He'd never heard a more apt description for anyone, he thought wryly. Then another thought occurred to him, and made his blood run cold. They couldn't keep the devil's spawn locked up for long. At some point, Hannibal would find a way to free himself.

Then his reign of terror would begin again, and Will knew who that monster would be coming for first. He would exact revenge against the person who had taken away his freedom.

That would be him. He would be Hannibal's first target.

Will swallowed hard as he got into his car, his hands shaking as he fastened his seat belt and started the engine. He wasn't sure that he'd be able to drive home.

His hands were shaking, and his mind was reeling from the force of the revelation he'd just had. He suddenly felt like a deer caught in headlights.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, to stop his hands from shaking.

It would come down to a confrontation between the two of them. He was sure of that. And this time, it would be a fight to the death.

Only one of them would come out the winner. But as he had told Hannibal, good would always win out over evil. At least he had that fact squarely on his side.

He would need all the help he could get to defeat Satan's child.