Title: Dreaming

Rating: T

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Will Graham sometimes cannot tell his dreams from reality, and other times, he is too frightened to find out.

It was a moment of weakness.

He couldn't be strong forever, no matter how hard he tried.

He was holding back all of his emotions during the day, forcing himself asleep at night and then waking up with chills and cold sweat. He couldn't go on living like that forever. Every single time tears began to form in his eyes, he would grit his teeth and breathe, sending it all away.

It's hard work.

And now he stood in his bedroom, staring out the window as he felt tears start to stain his cheeks. He took in a deep, unsteady breath which shook him to his core, realizing that not even the old trick could scare away his emotions now. He let out a painful laugh before he turned around to look towards the entrance of the small bedroom, hearing empty footsteps that should not be there. He thought he heard the door close. And then there he was, the man he killed, floating towards him in the dark room. His eyes widen, and he could almost taste blood in mouth as his body stiffened. He bit down his lip before forcing himself to turn around to look out the window, wishing that the image of the man he killed would just go away. He pressed his forehead against it, enjoying the cool glass before something touched his shoulder. He started to shake, letting out a low growl though his voice cracked a little. "Go away."

They must be becoming worst; they've never physically touched me.

"William, are you alright? The door was open."

The younger man jumped at the voice, not expecting a reply. He hit his head on the window, biting down on his lip again before he turned to glare at whoever had entered his room uninvited. He felt ashamed as he realized that at the sound of a voice, the tears did not leave him, instead, it seemed that even more dripped down his face. He wiped at them and hoped the darkness shielded him.

"It's not safe to leave a door unlocked at this time of night." Was the completely calm reply. His teary eyes met cool brown. The older man was still dressed in his suit despite it being past bed time. William shifted, looking towards the ground, then his eyes harden a little and he looked up though his tears would not dry. "You know, it'd be best if you went to sleep. Staying up is not healthy."

Maybe the darkness is hiding my face...

"Get out, Hannibal." William hissed though this time his voice nearly broke as he wiped at his eyes though the tears didn't seem to end. He cleared his throat. "I can stay awake however long as I like, I'm a grown man."

I'm not a child.

"And I was hired to keep an eye on you and keep you sane." Hannibal answered smoothly before reaching out towards him. He put his hands on the shorter man's shoulders before guiding him to the bed and pushing him down slightly, making Will sit. "Go to bed, William. You will need your rest for tomorrow, it will be a busy day."

"How could you know that?"

"I don't." The man answered simply, "Everyday seems to be busy for you, so I'm assuming tomorrow won't be any different. Now go to sleep."

"I can't believe I'm hallucinating about seeing you now." William laughed slightly, allowing tears to drip down his cheeks freely though he was smiling. He wiped at them before getting up even though he guessed that upset Hannibal a little. "I guess I should get you out of my room. You'll end up haunting me all night if I don't."

"I'll leave at my own accord, Will. Don't worry about me, it is you who I should be worried about."

"I'm perfectly fine." Will mumbled, stopping for a moment as he stared at Hannibal before blushing and letting go of his arm. He had not realized he had placed his hand on Hannibal's body. He put his hand on his head, running it through his hair. He looked at Hannibal now, tears gone though his cheeks still bore dry stains of them. "This is not a dream or a hallucination..."

"No, I'm afraid not." Hannibal whispered before he took a step towards Will to, again, force him to take a seat on the bed. "What caused you to believe this is a hallucination, Will?" The man in the suit watched the younger man in pajamas think carefully.

"Everything." He answered honestly. "You being in my room made me think it the most. What are you doing in here anyways? I know I left my door open, but you could have closed it and left a note. Why did you come into my room?"

"I was worried." Again, no emotion.

"Worried? Your job is keep me sane enough to work in the field not to fret over me like a mother hen." He scoffed before grimacing. "What happened? Did Jack send you over here?"

"Yes. He sent me because of what happened yesterday, but I am the one who wished to come here immediately."

"Yesterday? What time is it?"

"Nearly three in the morning." Hannibal spoke carefully watching as his patient jumped up suddenly with an expression of pure worry only for Hannibal to grab his shoulder's roughly. "What is it, William? You appear distressed. Explain this to me."

"I- let go of me! I have to take a shower! My hands, they're dirty, can't you see? They're so bloody... Please, Hannibal, let me wash my hands-"

"Do they always get dirty around this time, William?"

"They're always dirty." Will whispered, struggling again. "Let me wash my hands!" Hannibal then forced him back down, grabbing Will's wrists to examine his hands. "Why won't you let me clean my hands? Do you want them to stay dirty?"

"Your hands aren't dirty, William." Hannibal said softly as he watched Will relax at that comment. He brought Will's hand to his lips, licking the palm. The younger man jumped, trying to pull his hand away. Hannibal smiled scornfully, not letting go of him. "Don't struggle."

"Why are you doing this?" Will hissed, pulling away. "I killed him. I have to clean my hands, they're covered in blood- even my shirt, my glasses are stained... Please, let me clean myself! I don't want to walk around with all of this blood on me,"

Hannibal watched him for a few more moments before he nodded. "Allow me to help you, William." The young man nodded, taking Hannibal's hand before he suddenly slumped. The doctor could barely believe it, one moment the man had been strangely hyper for nighttime and the next, he was slumping like he exhausted. "William?"

"I- I'm tired. I think I'll just go to sleep." The soft voice mumbled as Will grasped tightly onto Hannibal's sleeve. "Good night,"

With that, the struggle that Will had been putting up passed, and he peacefully curled up on the bed, hand still clutching Hannibal's sleeve. "Sweet dreams." He murmured, untangling William's fingers from his clothing before pulling the blanket over the sleeping form. "Tomorrow will be a busy day. Sleep tight, my dear Will."

There was no evidence that Hannibal had ever been in the room, and William could faintly remember what happened. He was too embarrassed to bring this to the older man's attention however, fearful it had all been a dream. And Hannibal had never mentioned it while they spoke though sometimes, Will swore there was a fondness in the way he spoke, just like the voice that had whispered sweet dreams.