Title: Waiting For Someone
Pairing: Will Graham/John Reese
Fandom: Hannibal/Person of Interest
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the lovely John Reese or Jordan Hester, just borrowing them for a while. Please do not sue.
***He had the oddest feeling that he was waiting for something to happen.
Will looked up at the door of the bookshop, sighing for what seemed like the thousandth time. He had just waited on a customer, and now the place felt empty.
He didn't know why he had wanted to have people around him since he had come to New York, but there were times when he couldn't stand to be alone.
Only he wasn't alone, he thought, smiling slightly as he looked over at Winston in his dog bed behind the counter. The owner of the bookshop hadn't had a problem with Will bringing his dog to work; the man had two dogs of his own, though they were kept at his home.
So Winston came here every day, and he was walked on Will's lunch break. He could take Winston out on his leash if the dog needed a walk, and he was no trouble.
Customers seemed to like him, too, Will reflected. Winston had that enviable ability to make everyone around him love him -- unlike his owner.
Will knew that people weren't naturally drawn to him.
Maybe it was because he was still a bit standoffish, but he didn't blame himself for that. After all that he'd been through in his life, he felt that he had a right to be that way.
He had survived a hell of a lot -- more than most people could even contemplate. Yet he was still here, though it had been a long road that had brought him here, to this place in time. And he was still getting used to the new life he'd made for himself, still trying it out.
He wasn't absolutely sure that this life fit him yet. But he was trying to ease into it gradually, like slipping on an old coat after it had been patched and altered.
Eventually, it would be a good fit. He would make it fit.
It wasn't as though he had much of a choice in that matter, he told himself with a soft sight. He couldn't go back to Wolf Trap, and he didn't want to go back to the FBI.
He missed teaching, but that was something he could live without. What he missed the most was his little house, the routine of the life that he'd carved out for himself there.
But it wasn't safe for him there any longer, so, with a heavy heart, he had found homes for most of his dogs, good homes with people who would love and cherish them, and he'd sold his house. It had brought more money that he had thought it would, thanks to the improvements he'd made on it.
And now, here he was, living in New York City, working in a bookshop -- which he actually did enjoy -- and living alone with just one dog.
It was a far cry from what his life had been in Wolf Trap, he thought, his lips twisting slightly in a bit of a smile. His life couldn't be more different from what it had been.
At least he didn't have a cannibalistic serial killer trying to track him down and either kill him or turn him into something that he didn't want to be. His life was much saner now; he didn't have to feel that hot breath on the back of his neck and wonder when the beast would strike.
But he did have to look over his shoulder all the time, didn't he? He did have to worry about Hannibal finding him again and trying to force his way back into Will's life.
Maybe he should have accepted the FBI's offer of protection, moved somewhere other than New York, and had his name changed. Maybe he should have simply disappeared.
But he hadn't been able to bring himself to do that. It didn't feel right.
He didn't want to live in isolation again, though being social still didn't come easily to him. He'd had enough of that, and isolation made him far too vulnerable.
If he lived far away from people, as he'd done before, with his closest neighbor over half a mile away, then it would be all too easy for Hannibal to trap him there. He would have no allies, no one to hear him if he shouted for help. He didn't want to be in that position again.
He wasn't going to let himself be victimized. He wasn't going to live his life in fear. But he knew that he would never feel safe until he knew that Hannibal had been completely vanquished.
And besides, something had drawn him here to New York.
For some reason, he felt as though he was waiting for someone here. There was some sixth sense in the back of his mind that told him he belonged here.
Somewhere, in this teeming city filled with millions of people, there was one person who was looking for him. Will didn't know why he felt this way. He just did.
Maybe it didn't make much sense, but he had long ago learned to listen to his own intuition. It hadn't steered him wrong often, and more than once, it had literally saved his life. So when that little voice in the back of his head had told him to come to New York, he had taken heed.
And for some reason, even though he was still getting used to his new life here, it felt right for him. He was sure that he would eventually feel comfortable in his own skin again.
Of course, that would take a while. It would be a long time before he could stop looking over his shoulder and let himself relax. Sometimes, he wondered if he ever would.
But he was trying. He was learning. And that was better than nothing.
He was making some headway. At least, he felt that he was. But that sensation that he was waiting for someone only grew stronger with each passing day.
With every person that walked into the bookshop, Will's heartbeat quickened, and he searched that person's face, wondering if this was, at long last, the one he'd been waiting for.
Today was no different. When the bell over the door jangled to life, he lifted his head from the book he was reading and looked over at the door, a smile curving his lips, ready to say hello to the customer and search their face, looking for .... whatever he needed to see.
His blue eyes widened as he looked at the man who had just walked in, a tall, handsome man with dark eyes and dark hair streaked with grey at the temples.
For a few moments, his heart seemed to constrict, his breath to freeze in his throat. It took a few seconds before he could breathe normally again, though words wouldn't come out yet.
Here, standing in front of him, in the flesh, was the person he had been waiting for.
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