My first Hannibal fic, so I am rather nervous. English is not my first language, and this story is unbeta'd, so you might find some mistakes.
The lovely cover is made by Nephilim-Phoenix on deviantart.
The story is inspired by "and now doth time waste me", written by Maharetchan on AO3.
I don't own the show, the characters, Mads Mikkelsen, or Hugh Dancy. I really wish, though.
Most people believe that when an angel falls from heaven, the wings just disappear and they become a common mortal.
It is not so. The angel goes through insufferable pain and in the end has to cut the wings. The fall hurts as hell. The fall burns them, consuming every single feather, leaving them empty in their never ending pain.
Will Graham has cut off his wings. He could not sustain so much suffering, he could not bear all that pain. Now he has two big, ugly, irregular scars on his back to remind him of what he was, of the life that he has lost.
In the beginning, he was confident that he would return to heaven faster than a blink if he ever got the chance. Now he is not so sure. The pain he experiences on earth is different, almost sweet. He likes it. He likes the corruption.
A very good source of corruption is Dr. Hannibal Lecter, Will's psychiatrist. He manages to hide the monster that he is just as adequately as Will manages to hide the angel that he used to be and, in some degree, still is.
Will can see right through Hannibal. He knows the doctor's secret. And now it's time to let the masks fall.
He tells him what he is.
Hannibal looks at him as he always does. His face is completely professional, but his eyes...His eyes shine with a flicker of curiosity.
"So...you think that you are fallen angel", Hannibal says as if trying to make sure that he has not misheard his patient.
Will's eyes lock with his, and the fallen angel wonders if that is the sort of look that the doctor gives to his victims.
He wants to laugh, but he knows that it will merely ruin the effect, the moment. It is a moment of trust. Will has never before shared his secret with anyone, but considering that he knows the truth about Hannibal, he thinks it's only fair.
And it's more than that actually. Will trusts Hannibal. He still is not completely sure why, but he does. He feels peaceful and safe when he is with Hannibal. An irony. Irony is something that Will loves about human life. It makes him see how cruel heaven can be... He feels safe when he is with a psychopath, a murderer, a cannibal.
"No", he says. "I don't think that I'm a fallen angel; I know it. I am merely telling you."
A ghost of a smile appears on Hannibal's handsome face. Will just looks at him, seeing inside his very soul through his eyes. He sees every murder, he hears every scream and every plead for mercy. He watches as the monster cooks the meat. It's cruel and horrible, but Will finds himself attracted to it. Attracted to Hannibal.
"And why are you telling me, Will?"
"Because you are my doctor and my friend. You don't believe me, do you?"
"I never said that."
"You didn't say that you believe me either." Will pauses, waiting for an answer, but the doctor does not react at all. So, he carries on speaking. "I am also telling you because I know what you are. I thought you should know what I am as well. And that's the way to prove to you what I am."
Hannibal says nothing. They merely look at each other, the electricity running between them palpable. Will does not break the eye contact. He feels like he can't. He feels trapped in a web. And yet he is not afraid.
He tells Hannibal everything he knows, everything that he has seen. He loses track of time; he has no idea for long he has been speaking. Hannibal says nothing during that time. His face is an expressionless mask. Except that his skin is pale as a sheet.
When Will is done reciting Hannibal's murderous past as if he had read it in a history book, the doctor stands up. He does not look very well, but Will does nothing to help him. He knows that he can't. He knows that Hannibal won't let him.
Hannibal takes a sip of his water and somehow seems calmer. Will knows that it's only a game, that he is only pretending. He can almost feel his inner turmoil.
Hannibal comes close to him until he's directly in front of him, almost between his slightly parted legs. He sighs and hopes that Hannibal will translate is a sign of relief after saying what he knows.
"Are you going to turn me in on the FBI?" Hannibal asks the same way that someone else might have asked about the weather.
Will shakes his head, and the whisper of a smile appears again on Hannibal's face.
"I thought that angels are creatures of god. I thought that angels fight against evil and are supposed to be righteous."
Will can hear the smile in Hannibal's voice and smiles himself. "I am not an angel anymore, not truly," he says. "I am a fallen angel. I don't think that fallen angels have rules. Well, apart from 'Don't try to come back up here, we're closed'."
Hannibal smiles, and Will swells with pride. He is glad that he can give some sort of joy to the cannibal. He is glad that only he can see him like this.
"How did you find out about me?" Hannibal asks.
"I saw it," Will replies. "I can still see it. I can see the murders you've committed. I can see...what comes next. Sometimes i can see your victims, here, with us. You carry many ghosts with you, Hannibal Lecter."
Hannibal nods as though he understands perfectly. "You have no wings," he says, "but you still have something of your nature. This must be what's left of your grace, dear Will."
Will says nothing to that. He is amazed that Hannibal can comprehend. He is fascinated by the man himself. He always has been.
Hannibal kneels before him as Will is still seated on his chair. "I could kill you, you know," he says,
Will does not really trust his voice, not when Hannibal is so close. He can smell his expensive cologne. And underneath that, he can smell death and chaos.
"I know," he finally manages to say.
"I did think about it."
"I know."
Will doesn't want to die, but if his demise comes from Hannibal's hand, he will be happy. Content. Peaceful.
Hannibal's fingers stroke his thighs. The touch is as light as a feather, but it's more than enough for Will. He closes his eyes, letting all sensations surrender to Hannibal's caress. He wants to feel Hannibal. Hannibal is darkness, and Will is just so tired of being the light. He wants to feel that darkness inside him.
"What do you want, Will?"
I want to be broken, he thinks. I want to be tainted. I want to be destroyed. I want to be consumed. This is my design.
"You", he simply says.
Hannibal does not let a single second go to waste. The kiss is passionate and brutal, and Will moans inside Hannibal's mouth. He grips the expensive shirt tightly, pushing the doctor close to him until there is no space between them. Will sees no ghosts and hears no voices; he only feels Hannibal. Only Hannibal.
"What do you want, Will?" the good doctor asks again when they break the kiss for much needed air.
Will knows that he is not just another animal ready for the slaughterhouse. He has felt that he is not. He is an angel who wants to lose all the purity that remains to him. He has gotten rid of his wings and now he wants to get rid of all his holiness as well. And the only way to do that is by giving in to darkness, by becoming one with Hannibal.
"I want you to fuck me," Will whispers. "I want to be yours."
And so the good doctor does what is asked of him.
So, that's it. Reviews maybe?