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Title: With Shuddering Fall
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Fandom: Hannibal
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,646
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 Will Graham or Hannibal Lecter, unfortunately, just borrowing them for a while. Please do not sue.

***

Could he do this? He wasn't sure.

Will looked down at the gun in his hand. He had brought it with him for a purpose, though now, he wasn't at all sure that he could follow through on his intentions.

He didn't like killing. He never had. Even when he had done it in the past, to save an innocent person or in self-defense, it had never been something that he took pleasure in.

He wasn't like Hannibal. Not at all. He didn't like hurting people just for the feeling of power it gave him. He derived no pleasure whatsoever from seeing the pain of others. Hannibal was a completely diferent animal from him; there was nothing that connected them, despite what Hannibal might think.

He would never be like that. He would never enjoy taking life, or do it just for the feeling of power and control. He had no right to take life. He wasn't some kind of god.

Tonight would be the last time he took life without it being in self-defense or to save another person. Well, really, he was saving other peope, Will told himself firmly. Wasn't he?

If he didn't do this, Hannibal would keep taking lives indiscriminately.

He couldn't live with himself if he didn't stop this insanity. He wasn't the only person who had the power to do this, but he was sure that he was the only one who would step up.

He had to stop it. He had to make sure that no more innocent people lost their lives simply because Hannibal Lecter decided that they didn't meet his personal standards.

He wasn't going to let anyone else suffer. Hannibal had caused enough pain and fear; it was time to put all of that to an end, to rid the world of a scourge that should have been stopped a long time ago. Hannibal's reign of terror had gone on for far too long, and it had to end.

He wasn't delusional enough to think that he was the only person who could do this. But it somehow seemed fitting that he be the one to put an end to Hannibal, once and for all.

Still, this wasn't going to be easy for him to do.

Will closed his eyes, letting his head fall back against the wall behind him. This should be easy. It should feel like poetic justice, after all the wrongs that Hannibal had committed against him.

He had spent quite a lot of time in jail, needlessly, put there for crimes he hadn't committed, because of Hannibal and his lies. He had nearly lost his life. He had lost his freedom.

All that mattered most to him in the world had nearly been taken from him. He had also lost his peace of mind, and that rankled more than anything else. Will knew that he would never be the same again, that his associaton with Hannibal had tainted him in ways that he was only just beginning to discover.

The only way to rid himself of that feeling was by getting rid of the cause.

No, he didn't enjoy killing. He never would. But he was afraid that if he didn't put Hannibal out of the picture, he would be drawn ever further into a web of deceit.

All that he'd done so far had been in an attempt to trap Hannibal, to force him to overplay his hand and reveal what he really was. But that hadn't worked, and Will was forced to admit that it probably never would. Now, he had to take things into his own hands. He had to do something decisive.

If things kept on in the way they were going, he would keep spinning his web around Will, drawing him in. He would keep forcing Will into things that he didn't want to do.

Was it possible that he could become like Hannibal, if he was around the other man and felt that he was forced to hide some of the worst things that Hannibal did?

He hadn't wanted to commit the murder that he'd already taken part in, but at least he could honestly say that he'd done it in self-defense. He had killed Randall Tier, yes, but that man had been sent to kill him -- and he would have done so if Will hadn't gotten the upper hand. But it raised some disturbing questions.

Could his conscience devolve to the point where he killed for pleasure, where taking another human life was the only way to make himself feel powerful and in control of a situation?

That was the last thing he wanted for himself. He would be lost, swallowed in darkness.

Will shuddered at the thought. That was the last thing he wanted. He didn't want to be like Hannibal in any way. He didn't want to become a merciless killer, someone who took innocent lives without compulsion. He didn't want to have that on his conscience. He couldn't live like that. He'd rather be dead.

He took a deep breath, steeling his resolve. It wasn't going to be him who died tonight. It was time for Hannibal to end his time on earth, for his evil to be done away with.

This time, Hannibal wouldn't escape justice. He would meet with the fate that he had dealt out to so many others. He would be erased from this world, done away with for the good of humankind.

This should have been taken care of a long time ago, Will told himself firmly.

Hannibal was evil; that was something that anyone who knew of the horrific crimes he'd committed would agree with. The longer he lived, the more people would be in danger.

The only way to be sure that innocent people were safe from that kind of evil was to remove the evil. Will tightened his grip on the gun; he didnt want to do this, because he felt that it would further taint his soul. But it was the only way. There was no other option at this point.

Sending Hannibal to his grave was the only way to end what was going on. It was the only way to be sure that people didn't have to die needlessly at the whims of a monster.

Putting Hannibal in jail wouldn't work. There was always a chance that he could manage to escape, and then he would be free to commit murder and wreak havoc in the world again.

That couldn't be allowed to happen. It had to end here and now.

Hannibal had gone out for the evening, to an evening at the theater. He had asked Will to accompany him, but he'd been turned down -- and for good reason, Will thought grimly.

He knew what he had to do. He had been planning this for days, hoping that he could keep his intentions hidden from Hannibal long enough to carry out his plan.

Now, it was time for that plan to be put into action. He couldn't allow this to go on. He couldn't let more murders be committed. And he couldn't let himself sink into the trap that Hannibal was trying to close around him. He wouldn't let himself become another of a conscienceless killer's victims.

He had been victimized enough by Hannibal Lecter already. He was going to make sure that he was never a victim again, and he was going to avenge all of the innocents who had died at Hannibal's hands.

There had been too many of them, Will told himself, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them and focusing on the front door from his position in the foyer of Hannibal's house.

The other man would be coming home at any moment. And when he walked through the front door, Will intended to put two bullets into him -- one into his head, the other destined for his heart.

He would be sure, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the monster was dead.

He shuddered again, wishing that there was some other way, but knowing that there wasn't. He had no choice in this matter. He had to do this. If he didn't, his soul would never recover.

He could see Hannibal's dark outline outside the door, hear the jangle of keys as he inserted them into the lock and prepared to swing it open. Will's finger tightened on the trigger; it was now or never. If he failed in this, then he might as well shoot himself, too. He would have no reason left to live.

He raised the gun, both hands on it, holding it steady as he waited for the door to swing open. This was it; this was the moment of truth, the point of no return, he thought as Hannibal stepped into the foyer.

Without making a sound, he pulled the trigger. Once, then twice.

Hannibal fell to the floor, his eyes wide, one hand going to his chest after the first shot. The second shot was to the head, directly between his eyes.

It seemed to take forever for the body to hit the floor, but when it did, Hannibal landed face down, which Will was grateful for. He didn't want to see those eyes, wide open in their final stare.

With shuddering fall, Will pitched forward, knowing that he had accomplished his goal.

He closed his eyes, feeling released from a burden that he'd carried for far too long.

***