hi guys. I hope you like it. it's raw and new but give it a chance. also for those of you who don't watch the idea came from a Supernatural episode called 'Dream a Little Dream of Me' see it I seriously recommend. (Also the picture is not mine)

"This isn't orthodox is it Dr. Lecter?" Will looked suspiciously into the small tea cup that was handed to him. He could feel the heat working its way through the ceramic.

"It's become colder in these winter months. I would hate for my patients to be uncomfortable during our sessions. It would make it especially hard to converse through chattering teeth." He held his own cup in his hands whilst Will continued to stare into the cup. His brow furrowed in concentration and took a small sniff. His face recoiled from the cup and he put it on the nearby table.

"I'm not thirsty." Hannibal continued to stare at the cup for a moment before looking back over at Will. If anyone else rejected his generosity they would be thoroughly slain, but Will was an exception. He put his own cup on the table beside him and leaved forward in his chair in a non-threatening manner. Will took a deep breath and closed his eyes briefly before initiating the conversation "I don't appreciate the Copycat's motive." He stood up feeling anxious and Dr. Lecter watched him walk to the stairs.

"Maybe he knows what he is doing is edging you closer to breaking and he does it so that he can have the triumph of being the one who pushed Will Graham to insanity." Will took off his glasses, wiping them on his shirt. He turned to look at the doctor.

"If that's what's driving him then he would be watching me closely. He would know every move I make, every affect that the killings have on me, and he would improve on that." Will said it as though it was venom on his tongue. He put his glasses on his shirt and the psychiatrist calculates his movements. Hannibal stood up and walked over to Will. He stood a few feet in front of him as Will avoided eye contact.

"Serial killers have a pattern. Always the same MO and motive. If his intent is to break you, and changing everything from his last killing to do that, then is that what you would classify as a psychopath?" Will stepped away and walked around the room. Dr. Lecter watched as a predator watched prey. Will was oblivious to the exchange. He ran a hand through his hair and groaned.

"Why me? What connection could I have?" He turned and looked at Hannibal. He eyed him up and down as if the answer was written somewhere on his well tailored body. When he noticed Hannibal doing the same a looked away and paced back to his chair. He felt like his throat was coated in sand and coughed. He guessed the tea might have been a good idea after all. He reached down and grabbed the small glass. He blocked his nose from the tainted smell and drank the whole thing. Hannibal took long strides to catch him as he fell. He moved him to the couch as he lay asleep in his arms. A sly smirk coated Dr. Lecter's face. He walked over to his own cup and sat down before drinking all of it. He put the cup down and Will looked around terrified. "Where did you go?" The fear in his voice was evident. Dr. Lecter stood up and walked over to Will. He put his hands on each shoulder and looked into his eyes.

"Will focus, where are we?" Will was sweating and shaking under Hannibal's vice.

"Baltimore, Maryland." He managed through his shaking.

"What is this place?" Will gulped and looked around.

"Your office." He seemed to calm down a fraction. Hannibal let him go and looked at his watch.

"It's 7:45. You haven't lost any time, Will." He gulped and calmed down to a more reasonable level. He looked around and something struck him odd about the scene.

"When did it start raining?" He walked over to the window and moved the curtain. His heart stopped when he saw what direction the rain was heading. "Since when does it rain upside down?" Dr. Lecter walked calmly over and looked out the window. Will felt anger boil in his veins and make his body hot. He turned to Hannibal and glared at him. "Tell me what's going on?" He demanded on the verge of yelling. Hannibal stood calmly and put his hands behind his back.

"Will, you're hallucinating again." Will bared his teeth in a threatening smile.

"Yea, hallucinating." He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. "I never hallucinate about people who are still living." He removed his hand from his neck and slowly put it out in front of him. He looked from Hannibal to his hands that now lay palm skyward in front of him. He gave a sly grin and shoved Hannibal. Caught by surprise he stumbled back and a brief look of shock fanned across his face. He managed to steady himself as the scenery changed. They were standing in the field where the Copycat's first victim was found. Will looked at the clearing. He could see her body on the stag's antlers. He looked over at Hannibal who had composed himself from the shove. "I'm not hallucinating. I'm dreaming." He said it with almost madness in his voice. "Then why are you here?" He closed his eyes and they were moved back into Hannibal's office. The room was darker and it stopped raining. Will stood stock still when he saw the door open. The nightmare stag walked in and grunted. Despite it being normal temperature in the office air frosted out from the herbivore's nostrils. Hannibal looked over and tilted his head.

"Will, this is your dream. You control what goes on in your mind." Will shook and he could feel the sweat begin to drip from his forehead. The stag stamped at the ground and snorted again. It seemed to notice Hannibal finally and made a growling noise. It twisted its head to and fro in a threatening manner. Will closed his eyes as he heard the feet of the hoofed animal pound on the carpet. With a gasp both Hannibal and Will woke up and shot upright. Will looked around as he shook. He was dripping in sweat and he wrapped his arms around himself. Hannibal looked at Will as he stood up. Will looked at the lounge he was laying on and groaned.

"Is this how you normally wake up from a nightmare?" Hannibal moved to check on his patient.

"You drugged me." Will stopped shaking, but sweat plastered his clothes to his body and made Hannibal wrinkle his nose in disgust.

"No." He looked past will to the lounge. He narrowed his eyes, but stayed silent. "Stay here." Hannibal left and Will had no choice but to stay. He looked at the door and felt his heart beat against his ribcage. His head pounded and he could hear the hoof beats in his head. He pressed his hands to his head and closed his eyes. The smell of blood filled his nostrils and he heard a god awful scream.

"Will." Will put his hands over his ears to get the screaming out of his head. "Will." The voice rang in his head like a scream. A scream that pierced through his skull and shattered his concentration. "Will." Finally it all stopped and he looked up at Hannibal. He was crouched down looking at Will who was huddled on the floor still. Next to him was a towel, a t-shirt – Will never imagined Hannibal in anything other than his suits – and sweat pants – another item Will never imagined the doctor in, but not one he wouldn't like to see – Will shook his head of the image and took a deep breath removing his hands from his ears. "Will, come, you need to be cleaned up." Hannibal reached a hand down and Will took it. He grasped the man's hand tightly as he was lifted up off the floor. Will nodded as Hannibal grabbed the clothes and towel. Will followed mindlessly behind."Clean up, I'll cook dinner while you're busy. We can discuss what happened while we eat." Hannibal led them out of the office.

"What happened was you drugged me." Will snapped.

"No." Hannibal stayed calm despite Will's bristly attitude. Will kept quiet the rest of the way. Hannibal opened the door to the master bathroom and Will shuffled in, not really looking at anything in particular, afraid his face would betray his internal thoughts. Hannibal handed Will the clothes and the towel and left him to his own devices. Will finally looked up and took a deep breath. He glanced around at the lush decorum. Marble counter tops and polished white floor sparkled in the golden light. The cream walls reflected the light to give it a tinted glow. The shower was to Will's right, the tub to the left, and the double sink dead ahead. Will walked forward and set the towel on the rack and the extra clothes on the counter. Will got the illusion of a heavenly aura. Will looked at himself in the mirror and a ghost looked back at him. Their eyes were sunken in and dark around the eye itself. Their skin was pale and could almost be seen through. Their hair was stingy and unkempt. Will opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out. He leaned on the counter and tilted his head. It made the ghost only look more gruesome with sharp, decaying teeth and a sickly looking tongue. Will put his tongue back in his mouth and turn on the cold water. He let it run before throwing it on his face. He looked back up at the reflection, but the ghost was gone. He turned off the faucet and pulled of his shirt. He turned the shower to scalding and stripped off the rest of his clothes. He stepped into the scorching water and thoroughly soaked his body before looking around at the products. He didn't know what he was expecting, but this wasn't it. They were things he would buy. He guessed with the wealth he knew Hannibal had he half expected diamonds. He decided against everything except the body wash. He sniffed it languidly before lathering himself with it. He let the water wash over him for a few minutes before getting out. His muscles still ached as if he had been running, but with the shower most of the knots were gone.

He grabbed the towel and wrapped it around his waist. He looked in the mirror again and his skin had turned into a reddish hue, but most of all he looked alive. The water ran down his chest, making him shiver. He ran his hand over his face and stopped at his chin. He skimmed his fingers backwards against his chin. He needed to trim it up. He decided to do that when he got home. Will grabbed the marble counter and his knuckles went as white as the island. He rocked on his heels and took a deep breath. The steam fogged up the mirror and he wiped it off with his towel. He hurried to dry off and get dressed. He had to roll up the pant legs a few inches, given that Hannibal was taller than him, but they fit otherwise. The shirt hung loosely on his frame, but he supposed it would work until he got home.

He folded up his towel and cleaned up the little mess he had made, leaving the bathroom as if he had never been there. He held his clothes in hand as he walked down the stairs. The smell of food hit him hard in the stomach. He forgot his hunger during the incident. He walked into the dining room and paused. He creeped his way to the door and carefully opened it. He didn't want to alert Hannibal of his presence. He poked his head through and some of his left side to inspect Hannibal. He watched him work around in the kitchen with an air of serenity. He stood there for a few moments before he was addressed.

"Will, I'm glad to see you're feeling better." Will entered the room completely and shifted the clothes in his hands. Hannibal finally turned around and looked at Will. He shifted his feet looking down at the ground, hiding behind his glasses. Hannibal wiped his hands on his apron and waved Will over. He shuffled over and stood a few feet away from the counter. His hair stuck to his head, but was quickly drying in the heated room. "I can wash those if you'll let me." He walked over to the pan and stirred the food inside.

"No it's alright I'll do it when I get home." Hannibal the ghost of a smile and nodded.

"Good, sit down, dinner will be done shortly." Will nodded and walked out hurriedly. He made his way out into the dining room and looked around. He sat down farthest from the fireplace. He set his dirty clothes in the chair next to him, not knowing what to do with them. He sat down in the chair and squirmed around a little bit before getting comfortable. He always felt underdressed when eating here. Or with the ambiance and placing made him feel like a sacrifice. Before he could dwell on it the sound of footsteps resounded through the dining room. Hannibal looked the length of the table before spotting Will. He walked over and set the food in front of him. Will stared at his plate as Hannibal sat down. "Enjoy." Will picked up his fork and knife and slowly began to cut into the food. He took a few bites before acknowledging his dining partner.

"Why did you drug me?" Will tilted his head towards the doctor, but kept focused on the food.

"I didn't drug you, Will." He looked at Will trying to get him to look at him.

"Then why did I fall asleep?" Will finally looked over at his psychiatrist. His gaze was hard and his face impassive.

"Because that tea was made with silene undulate. Also known as African Dream Root." Hannibal gave an even stare back, but was the first to look away. He cut into his foot, but before he could it to his mouth Will stood up.

"Why?" He looked down at Hannibal with a threatening glare. Hannibal sighed softly and set his fork down.

"I thought that if you had the power to confront your nightmares you might not be so afraid of them anymore." Hannibal looked up with a blank gaze. It was slightly the truth. Just the wrong one. Will stood, still. Hannibal eyed Will up and down and possessiveness consumed him at the sight of Will in his clothes. Will gave a bitter laugh.

"So I guess you don't give tea to all of your patients?" Hannibal gave a small smile.

"No." Will reluctantly sat back down in his chair and finished eating. They ate in silence for the rest of dinner. By the time dessert came around Will felt compelled to ask more questions.

"Does Jack know you're doing this?" Will pushed around the last of his food on his plate.

"No, and I plan on keeping it that way, unless you want me to tell Jack." Will mulled it over in silence. Hannibal stood up and gathered his dishes. He looked at Will for a moment before grabbing his plate. He looked in confusion at the gesture, but eventually put his silverware on the plate. He continued to stare at the place where his plate previously occupied. He took a small breath and could smell his soap on Will; it made him want to growl. He held it back and went back into the kitchen. Once he was gone Will stood up. He walked into the kitchen and stood in front of the counter. Will felt exhausted as if he had been knocked unconscious than sleeping. His energy was drained and all he wanted to do was sleep. He blinked his eyes slowly.

"Don't you ever get tired of cooking?" Dr. Lecter looked over eyeing Will as he moved around to get dessert ready.

"Sometimes, but if I don't cook then I don't eat." Will looked down at the plates he was decorating.

"Oh." Will was too tired to splurge deeper on the subject. Before too long a smaller plate was being handed to him. He took it and took a few bites. His stomach was doing flips and he ran to the trash can before he retched all over the floor. Hannibal walked over and Will coughed, heaving into the trash. "I'm sorry. I swear it wasn't your cooking." He gagged and slumped to the floor. Hannibal handed him a damp wash cloth, "I forget that the dream root has side effects." Will wiped his mouth and grunted. "Why aren't you losing your dinner?" Will mumbled out. He felt weak to the knees and his stomach was still hosting Cirque Du Soleile.

"I've grown immunity to it." Will reached back up to the trash can and dry heaved into the basket. Will managed to stand up, but swayed viciously.

"I need to go." Hannibal looked amusingly at Will.

"You can barely walk." Will tried to stand as if he wasn't bothered by the illness, but he swayed far to the right and ended up back on the floor. He kneeled in front of Hannibal and coughed.

"You did drug me." Will hit the floor before he could hear the reply. Hannibal stooped to look at Will.

"No, Will." Hannibal reached out and picked up the unconscious detective. He was draped over his arms and lying limp against him. His head lulled back, hanging over his arm and his left arm was hanging loosely beside him. Hannibal carried him to one of the guest rooms. Will tossed and turned restlessly in his arms. Setting him down on the bed he put the back of his hand on Will's forehead. He was beginning to sweat. Will moved in jerky motions as he dreamed. Lecter knew he was going to wake up from this sleep, unlike the sleep induced by the Dream Root. He stood up and walked to the bathroom. He grabbed a few towels and put them on the bedside table. When Will woke up he was going to want those. He stared at Will for a few moments in silence minus the occasional groan and grunt from the detective. He turned and left the room silently.

xXx

Will ran past the woods into the clearing. He panted as he heard the ground around him gave away. The tree line was littered with thousands sets of eyes. They stared back at him accusingly. He saw a larger set dead ahead of him and soon the body followed. The stag tossed its head from side to side. He stamped his foot and charged forwards. The eyes around him began to swirl and he tried to turn around. His feet hurt and he was sure he was bleeding from a cut on his leg. He slipped and fell to the ground. Everything slowed down as the stag lowered his head and lifted Will up. His antlers pierced through his skin and out the other side. Blood covered the stag's antlers and dripped down on the ground.

Will tried to scream out, but no noise would escape his mouth. The pain of the antlers in his body made it impossible to move or breath. He could feel blood fill his lungs and he barely managed to breath in regular intervals. The stag nodded his head making Will fall farther into the piercings. With the last of his energy Will looked over and saw the woods parting again. A figure of a human emerged from the dense over growth. Before a face could be determined his vision went black and he felt weightless. His was being raised by an invisible force into oblivion. The pain was gone and the blood dried to his body. He closed his eyes….

Only to wake up with a pounding headache and covered in sweat. He took off his shirt before he looked around. The smell of dogs didn't assault his nostrils when he woke up. The sheets and pillows smelt old and unused rather than of sweat and fear. He looked at the clock to see it was early morning. He blinked and ran his hands over his face. His chest hurt from the dream attack and he looked down to double check he hadn't actually been punctured. He ran a hand over his chest to feel for any wounds. He didn't find any. He looked around and saw a few towels on the bedside table. He grabbed them and they smelt new. He shrugged off the eerie sense and wiped himself down. He took off his pants and scrounged around the room for any clothes. He only managed to find a shirt and he threw it on. He grabbed his glasses that had been set next to the towels last night. His memories of last night were foggy and unclear at best. He remembered eating dinner, then passing out on Lecter's kitchen floor. Everything between was gray. He walked to the door and gave it a test jiggle. The door popped open and he stepped out into the dimly lit hallway. Sound resonated from below and he snuck through the hall and down the stairs. He padded lightly down to where the noise was coming from. He put his ear to the door and listened for a moment. It sounded like the shuffling of paper. He took his ear off and looked around trying to recognize the area of the house.

"Will, you may come in." Lecter's voice sounded from the other side of the door. Will opened the door and stepped cautiously inside. Lecter looked up and bit down on his tongue. Will looked around the room and took a short breath. It looked to be a library, but everything looked like a library in this house. It was full of books and he could hardly tell what room began and the other ended. With the exception of the kitchen and the dining room. Lecter swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to find the words to speak, but he didn't need to as Will walked forward and started the conversation.

"What happened last night? Why am I still here?" Will put his hands on the desk and Lecter leaned back. He smelled of sweat and it made his mind race. Will looked at him expectantly.

"You had an episode and you wanted to drive home. I couldn't let you drive in the condition you were in." He shifted in his seat and Will watched his face searching for something. Any hint of a lie. He hated to lie to Will, especially when he looked like he did in nothing but his shirt and boxers. His hair mussed and his eyes still slightly dulled from sleep.

"So that's how I ended up passed out on the floor in your kitchen?" Lecter didn't trust himself to talk, so he gave a curt nod. Will stood up from the desk and walked away. Lecter's eyes traveled down the length of his body and suppressed a groan. He bit down on his lip and Will couldn't shake the feeling of eyes on him as he walked around. "Where are my clothes?" Will looked down at himself and turned around. Lecter hurried to look back at the drawing he was working on to hide any inkling that he was surveying Will's body.

"I just threw them in the laundry. They should be done within an hour and a half." His mind went blank to the drawing in front of him. He put his pencil down and stood up. He walked over to where Will was running his hand along the spine up the books and he stopped when he heard the sound of padded feet. He looked down at the floor then turned around looking up. Lecter was a few feet from him and looked at him with a scrutinizing gaze. "How much of last night do you remember?" Will shook his head closing his eyes.

"I remember sitting in our appointment, then," He put a hand on his head trying to remember. He looked at the floor and chewed his lip. "Then dinner and the last thing I remember was lying on your kitchen floor." The doctor nodded and turned away.

"Come with me, I believe breakfast is in store." They made their way to the kitchen and Lecter began to start breakfast.

"Can I help?" Will rolled up the sleeves on the shirt and leaned over the counter.

"I've got this under control; you're welcome to watch." Will nodded, but he hated feeling useless. He looked around and tapped his fingers on the counter. Lecter looked at Will's persistent hands and then at Will. Lecter put the knife he had in his hand down and handed him a two bowls and a few eggs. "Separate those." Will looked at the eggs and then back at the psychiatrist. He grabbed an egg, looking at it carefully, before putting it in one of the bowls. He did the same for the rest alternating between the two bowls. Lecter looked up from his chopping to the bowls. He gave a faint smile and walked around to where Will was standing.

"I don't cook." Will held up his hands in an apologetic stance and the doctor stood beside him. He took the eggs out of the bowls and took one in his hand.

"What I meant by separating was separating the yolk from the white." Will looked sheepishly at the counter and shifted his feet in embarrassment. "Watch." Will looked up and watched the doctor's hands. He cracked the egg, but held it together still, letting the white drip into one bowl. He transferred it from each side of the shell until only the yolk sat in one side. He then put the yolk in the other bowl and threw away the shells. Will watched intently during the whole exchange. Lecter looked down at the detective and gave a smirk. "I presume you can handle it from there." Will nodded avoiding eye contact. Lecter lingered a little while longer before walking back over and finishing his prior job. A comfortable silence fell between the two. Will separated the eggs whilst Lecter chopped and sliced and cooked. Finally Will finished, double checking for shells, and put the bowls on the counter. The doctor picked up the bowl with the yolks and began to whisk them. He held it up flaunting his mastered skill. Will chuckled slightly.

"I didn't know it was breakfast and a show." Hannibal set the bowl down as he finished and eyed Will.

"Nor did I." Will blushed furiously at the implication. He looked down at the counter and tapped his fingers against the surface. He had no words for a while whilst Hannibal moved around the kitchen with practiced ease.

"When will my clothes be done?" Hannibal didn't look over as he stirred the food.

"After breakfast, they should be finished washing. Drying shouldn't take too long after that." Will nodded and took off his glasses. He used the shirt to clean them. "What's on your mind, Will? You seem occupied." Will shrugged and looked somewhere on the floor ahead of him.

"I'm bothered that I lost more time. I hate that I can't remember. One of these days I might hurt someone, but I won't even remember." He began to shake slightly and Hannibal checked breakfast one last time before removing it from the hot burner. He walked around the island and looked stood beside Will who was still facing the inside of the kitchen. He put his hands on the counter to steady himself, but it only made the shaking more prominent.

"You have lost time before?" Will hesitated. After quickly analyzing his options he shook his head yes. "How often do these black outs occur?" Will still hadn't looked over at the doctor. Lecter walked back over to the stove and put on the kettle. Will closed his eyes and shook his head trying to break loose the memories of his black outs.

"They have been happening more frequently." He clenched his teeth.

"That's not what I asked." Lecter walked over to Will and tilting his head to try and look into his eyes, despite them being closed. "How often to these black outs occur?" Will opened his eyes as the tea kettle began to whistle. Lecter grabbed it and got down two tea cups. He grasped the unmarked tea packets and made the tea. He walked around the island and put the cup down next to Will as he tried to answer him.

"I," He looked at the cup. He grabbed it and held it in his hands. "Don't know." He made a sour face, but drank the whole cup, ignoring the scorching liquid that burned a trial down his esophagus. He looked around as the room seemed to darken and he was alone. He panicked and dropped his cup. His breathing became rushed and rapid. He backed away and bumped into someone. Hands were around his shoulders and he fought to get out of them. Memories buried in his subconscious resurfaced and barreled into his mind. "God dammit. You did it again." He closed his eyes and they were transported to Will's house. They sat on the back porch and Lecter let him go. Will stumbled forward and looked out into the clearing that he called his backyard. The sun was still up, but the sky was darkened. It cast long shadows pointing to a point in the middle of the clearing. Will felt fear cloud his vision and he stopped mid step as he walked off the porch. Lecter watched the scene in silent reserve. The chill cut through the slight clothes that Will wore. "You said before that I could control my dreams." He took a deep breath and finished the step. "That I would be able to conquer my fear."

"Dreams are an escape for the mind. A place where the subconscious runs wild and creates the scenarios reality cannot grant us. If you're afraid of your escape then what's the point in living. Once you control something you no longer have the need to fear it." He stayed standing on the back porch. Will continued looking forwards. He walked into the center of the clearing and remembered it from his dream. He looked around as the stag appeared again. Will stood stock still, terrified of what would come next. It charged after him as before, but this time he moved and it slipped right past him. Will opened the eyes he hadn't known he closed and looked around. The stag hadn't missed, no quite the opposite it hit him right where it did before, but this time there were two Wills. One like a shadow replaying the way he died previously and the other well alive and staring in horror at the scene. Living Will stared at his own death until a hand was on his shoulder. He jumped and cried out, from the sudden throw into reality. He was shaking and he turned to look at the hand. He stepped forward into the light and saw Lecter staring back at him as he turned. Will closed his eyes and they were in a forest. The woods were thick and what little light there was barely filtered through the trees. Will looked up searching for the source of the light, but he saw none. The shadows seemed to have mass and moved as Will walked. He didn't know where he was going, but he felt something tug at his soul and lead him thicker into the woodland. The shadows jumped from tree to tree as if they were people and followed Will as if they were connected to him, as his own shadow would be. Silently Lecter followed behind. As Will seemed to walk for hours, eventually he came across a clearing. In the clearing was a pure white tree. It was a stark comparison to the inky blackness around him. Before he could approach Lecter reached out and grabbed Will. "Will, you must wake up now."

"I just want to see something." Lecter still hadn't freed him of his vice. Will began to struggle in Lecter's grasp.

"Will, wake up." His voice didn't rise, but the tone changed. It was stern and made Will stop his struggling. He looked up at the doctor and blinked his eyes as if waking from a dream within a dream.

"What?" Will looked around panicked. Lecter's grip tightened on Will and his right hand slithered its way up his body. Will was taking rapid breaths and struggling again.

"I'm sorry, Will." Lecter's hand clenched on Will's throat and cut off his air supply. Will tussled in Lecter's grasp, but to no avail.

Lecter gave a final squeeze on the detective's trachea and they both woke up before Will's body hit the ground of the forest.

yea so there it is it's really late and i'm tired and this is where I decided to end it. please review I have never done Hannigram before so if you want to review how bad it is please do it. I want to get better haters made Justin Beiber famous