A/N: Tender drabbles first. I'll ease into the angsty stuff later. I'm brimming with ideas for these two. Some lighter pieces will also be included.
|Nightmares|
Will was asleep, wrapped in the soft linen sheets. He looked so innocent when he slept deeply, undisturbed.
The incident had occurred three nights ago.
Dr. Hannibal Lecter sat on the leather sofa in his living room, a book in hand, and his favorite glass of wine on the coffee table next to him. Melancholy classical music played in the background as he smiled, amused. Dr. Lecter appreciated fine literature the way he appreciated fine cuisine.
He heard a knock on his door, timid at first, but louder the second time. When Hannibal pulled back the door, he found a bed-headed Will Graham preparing to leave. His blue eyes were red-rimmed. The doctor suspected insomnia.
"Will," he smiled benevolently. "What a surprise. Come in." He stepped aside, allowing the conflicted empath to walk into his office. "Here, let's go into the living room. It's more comfortable."
Will seated himself on the sofa nervously, while Hannibal took the armchair. "I had a nightmare," Will blurted. "You were the first person I thought of seeing."
Hannibal allowed a silent moment to slip away before answering. "Do you want to tell me what the dream was about?"
Will shook his head with an acrid smile. "No, no. I just..."
He needed a place where he felt secure. People tended to feel safe around Hannibal. Grave mistake.
"Would you like to sleep here?" Hannibal offered. This could be interesting.
Will looked at him incredulously and a furious blush captured his features. It seemed... inappropriate, burdensome. He was prepared to humbly decline when Hannibal interrupted him gently.
"You're not the first patient who came to me complaining about nightmares. You need a change of scenery. I'm willing to offer you one."
Will took a moment to consider. He had come here for a reason, a deep inside he had hoped Hannibal would offer him to stay. He dreaded the nightmares-dreaded losing his mind. Here, he felt sheltered. "I'll take the sofa," he said.
"Actually," Hannibal gestured towards the open book and the glass of wine on the coffee table, "I was hoping you'd take the bed. You see, I'm not a big fan of sleeping."
Will chuckled under his breath with a slight smile, "Yes, of course, doctor. As you say."
Hannibal led Will to the bedroom and then retreated to the living room and resumed his reading. He had turned the music off this time, so as not to disturb William. He was reading Jules Verne, when something caught his attention. Will was calling for him, talking in his sleep. Hannibal walked up the stairs and parted the door to the bedroom.
Will was, indeed, asleep, if one could call it sleep. A brutal frown marred his features, and he writhed as if trying to escape restraints. He muttered his name once again, and Hannibal approached the edge of the bed. He perched next to Will and tentatively put his hand on the young man's cheek. The tension in Will's body slightly eased at the contact. He was sweating, Hannibal realized.
"Shh," he said. "They're only nightmares."
He stayed with him for a while, just sitting beside him, watching over him. When Will didn't make another sound, convinced that he'd soothed down, Hannibal made to leave. It surprised him when a firm grip caught his hand and held him back.
Will's eyes were closed and he hadn't said a word, but his eyebrows were furrowed, knuckles turning white. Hannibal pressed his parted lips together and assumed a more comfortable position beside Will, leaning against the headboard. Will shifted slightly to make space for him, still refusing to openly acknowledge his presence. The frown left his face, and after a while, he started breathing evenly.
A faint smile playing on his lips, Hannibal looked at Will with affection and briefly ran his fingers through the boy's wavy hair. "Good night, little empath," he spoke softly and allowed himself to drift into a light sleep.