Old Beginnings
By Pizzapig
"Doctor Lector" greeted Will Graham, teacher, dog lover, and unofficial fbi special agent.
"Will," greeted Doctor Hannibal Lector, psychiatrist, clever sociopath, food enthusiast and classy cannibal "please come in."
Will nodded, walking through the wooden door Hannibal had opened and into the office of the doctor.
Hannibal took up his usual place on the leather chair crossing his legs and motioning for Will to take the seat opposite his. Will nervously paced the room edges instead of taking the offered seat. Only to immediately still and settle in front of the largest window in the room a few minutes later. He stared outside past the frosted glass, and into the world beyond, admiring the brilliant uniqueness of the snowflakes that drifted through the air outside.
Hannibal waited patiently to make Will feel at ease, to be able to speak comfortably when he was ready.
"Special thing, a snow flake," commented Will "unique and so very delicate. Hold it in your palm, examine it closely lest it melt. Place it in the fray. A million snowflakes falling at once, barely distinguishable. A shame really, they only last for such a fleeting moment."
"Yet the momentary life of a snowflake is what makes it special, does it not?"
"Indeed."
"Do you often feel put under scrutiny, by people such as Jack Crawford?"
"Sometimes, I often get the sense that someone is waiting to pluck me from the fray, waiting till I melt under there close scrutiny."
It was a bright summer's day as Mr William Graham, teacher, dog lover, husband and unofficial Fbi agent walked hand in hand with his beloved. The sun warmed his neck with her brash rays as they reflected off the calm serenity of the ocean. In the other hand that wasn't holding his lovers, he held his favorite possession, his trusted and reliable fishing rod. His lover held his fishing box, precisely packed away after a calm day of trailing it through the ocean. The fruits of their hard work was slung over his shoulder, dangling by a loose string, ready to be roasted in the hot flames of their home. The solid feel of the sand against Wills feet was a reassurance, a firm ground on which to steady himself. A welcome feeling after so much uncertainty plaguing his life lately. Warm golden eyes anchoring him, the firm hand of his lover guiding him home, he couldn't help but smile.
It was a nice dream indeed, up until the moment he woke and was faced with the harsh reality of the present day.
If there was one catalytic moment Will could remember, to blame, pin everything to till it bled ad bled, bleeding no more in the dark hopelessness, his current misery he so deemed life. There was only one clear winner, one person to blame. Such one person still brought nerve stripping shivers, nightmares filled with silent screams, a trapped suffocating daylight in the sun. A moot point set on a hellish loop that wouldn't leave his waking and sleeping mind alone. He couldn't even think his name without breaking down in hapless abandonment of mind and body. He reflected, always, anytime, all the time, back to then, ten years ago. Everything and everyone all so different. Smooth faces, innocent eyes -unmarred by the world. When hope was a senseless trust, an easily achieved sanity, a clear mental state, not yet lost and broken by the cruel world. Then next came the moment when innocence was lost. The moment when the cruel malice of uncertainty and doubt filled his very being. The moment he met him, the slow burning poison he knew as Doctor Lector. Loose your mind.
As so it happened, the first time he met Doctor Lector was extremely ordinary. Will would have liked to say he felt a strange kind of feeling from Doctor Lector, a hesitance, an inkling, even a warning. Anything other than strange curiosity, immediate fondness and hidden attraction. An easily won trust. If he could go back there in time, he would tell himself to hightail it, run the hell out of there, never look back. What a joy to never loose himself, keep his mind intact, his trusting heart whole an ordinary unmarked life. Go into hiding under another name, pretend Jack Crawford was just another famous figure that occasionally caught the headlines. Hannibal lector was just another stranger on the street, terrorizing innocent people that were not him. But this is not how the story goes, foolish Will was ignorant to what was to come. Lured in by his charm and fine words. A silent understanding formed between the two, one mentally afflicted person to another. Where two became one, and loneliness disappeared. Away from the troublesome inferences and misunderstandings of the world. Silently, unobtrusively, hidden hearts owned by the black stag and the man who could relate to dogs the best, fell for love.
All it took was knowing Doctor Lector for a year and a half that he had managed to destroy Wills life so completely.
The stag was back. It came and went. Following him down the halls of his mind, subtlety pushing him away from the windego, protecting him from the corrupt and manipulative which wished to break him and utterly destroy him. The only thing the proud broken stag failed to protect him from was the horrific blackness formed from his own psyche. He tried comforting him, that he had done enough, no fault was his. Tears still flowed like rainstorms. Disappointment.
"I know who I am Doctor Lector." the words repeated itself over and over as he sat in his cell, a prison of his own making, formed by the devil he knew. He would laugh about it now, for hours, hysterical biting laughter that filled empty halls, and even emptier hearts. Not long now he told the dark. Not long, not too long, before they stopped, they stopped disbelieving him. Remember who he was, and found out who Doctor Lector was. All truthful accusations about Doctor Lector would be believe and acted on. If only they stopped believing his constant cries of innocence.
The nightmare stag, black ruffled thick coat, sharp edges hidden behind soft feathers, approaching his cell. It looked him dead in the eye, huffed, and disappeared around the corner before the windego demon approached.
"Will" his voice regretful.
"Fake" Will screamed behind locked cells in his mind, he ignored the demon.
"I have come to visit you, the least you could do is greet me in return."
"and what could I say to you Doctor Lector" he fumed "good day, thanks for ruining my life. Thanks for leaving me here all alone." Where are you?
"Will" the voice echoed in the recesses of his mind, "you can't keep running forever."
"I can try." Will said assuredly.
He wishes he could take it back.
Have him back.
"Hannibal had to know. He was a psychiatrist for god's sake; he had to see something was wrong."
"I believe he didn't want to see it, just like us all."
The tapered off end of a conversation floated down the hallway and into his cell. His 'good friends' Alana Bloom and Jack Crawford echoed down the long hallways. The sound of heavy steps and click clack of high heeled shoes resounded, the silence was that much more intimidating.
"No" he closed his eyes shutting them out. "Not again."
"Will"
"No," he closed his eyes as tight as his aching heart. "Go away. Time to give it all up. Leave him alone. The right to be saved was for the innocent, and he was far from innocent."
"Will, we must discuss this, your assessment is coming up soon and you will never be released if you can't even talk about it. We are trying to help you. Please, just let us help you."
"Alana, it's not helping, I told you coming here was a mistake. It's too soon."
"It's been 3 years Jack. How much more time can we give him."
"I understand Alana, and I take the full blame for everything, but you have to accept he may never get better. We may never get Will back."
"I won't accept that. I made a promise and I intend to keep it." Crawford walked away this was the last time he was going to visit. He had given up, he wasn't as persistent as Alana.
"Hannibal, he wouldn't want this, he would want you to be happy." Alana said pushing up against the bars. Will flinched slightly before turning away from Alana. The sound of her retreat did not echo defeat.
Madness was far nicer. [Madness was enticing]
It was a dangerous game he was playing from the start. Yet he couldn't give up the game. Cat and mouse. Mouse and cat. They mirrored each other nicely, their broken selves patched up each others missing pieces, somehow made each other whole. A fire consumed body and mind completely when they touched. An addicting feeling neither man could get enough of. It was how at first they both convinced themselves it was a carnal addiction. Till carefully worded warnings forced them to wise up and there was no use pretending it wasn't something more. That Hannibal didn't love the quiet intelligence Will possessed the way he was able to see and understand his raw soul, and held no judgments once seeing the twisted creature it was, he understood. The way in which Hannibal loved Will wholeheartedly, the only way he knew how, fiercely protective, and gentle. The meals Hannibal would make will. His favorite food when he was feeling down. The way Will gave into Hannibal's more ridiculous requests that meant more than he ever let on. Such as when he compromised and gave away most of his dogs yet Hannibal still let him keep Winston. The way in which Hannibal would get fiercely jealous, will would get angry, then Hannibal would later apologize in the most delightful ways. The many fights over Will putting himself in harm's way, and Will insisting he could handle it, (up until he couldn't).
"I feel like I have dragged you into my world."
"No, I got here on my own, but I appreciate the company."
"I Love you"
"and I you."
That's new" Will thought as the apparition disappeared and the building scream started.
The mind numbing medicines closed off his thoughts and chased away his demons for now.
"Will needs someone who can bring balance to an often unbalanced mind."
"Jack" Will said furiously "that's enough. I want no further discussion about mine and Hannibal's relationship. I did not tell you so you could interrogate him like one of your murder suspects."
"Its fine will, we were merely having a conversation about my intentions towards you."
"It's not fine. It's not okay. You're gone and I'm here alone. You bastard. You promised me."
"Will your being incredibly rude."
"I don't care. I'm sick of reliving the same memories. All I want is you not your ghost haunting my mind."
Will woke up with tears on his cheeks. He rubbed his face furiously. The hole in his chest felt darker and deeper than ever. "Your fault. It's all your fault." The voices accused.
There was no use denying them, he knew it was the truth. It was all his fault. The blood on his hands would never wash clean.
Conventional was never their thing.
Right from the very first moment Will felt the insane attraction to his unconventional psychiatrist.
Right from the moment Hannibal decided Will was worth saving. Worth Loving.
Right from the moment of whispered I love you.
Right from the moment they adopted Abigail Hobbs; and for once were completely happy,
Right from the moment for the very first moment they knew what a family was
From to the moment a serial killer decided to take revenge on William Graham for locking him up,
To the very last moment when Hannibal fell protecting them, body in Will's arms, warmly gushing blood.