Will Graham wakes up sticky, covered in sweat. He allows his eyes to adjust before looking at the pale blue numbers of his digital alarm clock. 2:15 in the morning. That's just fan-fucking-tastic. He wonders for a second why he doesn't just keep a stack of towels in the nightstand drawer, then ambles out to the bathroom to get one.
The path to the bathroom doesn't require Will's eyesight any more. Which is good, he thinks, because the nightmare that woke him has mostly gone away and the shadows won't be quite so daunting with his eyes open. Will doesn't even need to pass his hand along the walls in the dark of the empty hallway.
The soft padding sounds of Winston accompany Will though he doesn't notice them at first. He doesn't notice them until the dog puts its cold nose in his palm.
Will opens his eyes then, reaching back to pat Winston's head or scratch his ears, but the dog isn't there. That's weird, Will thinks, swiping his hand across his sweat covered forehead. The thought doesn't cross his mind again.
Somewhere in the house, water drips. And drips. Will wonders briefly if he forgot to turn off the bathroom tap, then the water stops dripping. It starts pouring from the sink instead, wet sounds the only thing Will can hear.
He reaches into the bathroom to switch on the light. Will blinks, suddenly enveloped in brightness. He doesn't see the water in the bath tub overflowing until it runs over his toes. Well crap. Didn't he turn it off after his shower? He groans and moves to turn it off.
The pale grey face of Garrett Jacob Hobbs stares up at Will from under the liquid surface, blank eyes blue and haunting when they meet the detective's. A full-body shudder rips through Will and he opens his mouth to scream. The only sound is Hobbs, repeating his last words. "See? See?"
Will backs out of the bathroom, flipping the light switch to the off position. A chunk of ice settles in his stomach when the light doesn't turn off. Hobbs rises out of the water slowly, levitating like when Will dreamed of Elise Nichols. He turns his head at an impossible angle to bore his gaze into Will's.
"See? See?"
What would be a scream lodges itself in the agent's throat right underneath his chin to cut off the air flow. No, no, no, no. Dizziness twists Will's stomach and legs and he falls in a heap by the bathroom door, struggling to suck in what little bit of tainted air that he can.
"I'm gonna kill you, Will Graham," Hobbs hisses.
A sickening chant of "Kill Will" bounces behind the detective's eyes as the bathroom walls melt and drip like distorted crayons. Despite the bathroom light, Will Graham's room fades to black to the tune of "Kill Will. Kill Will. Kill Will."
Something in the dark latches on to Will's shoulder and shakes it. He moves to push whatever it is away, mumbling what could be interpreted as "Leave me alone," until he discovers that it's a hand.
"Will? Will, wake up." The voice is soothing, familiar, and Will recognizes where he is before he even opens his eyes. "You're safe now, Will. Open your eyes and look at me."
"Doctor Lecter," Will groans and peels his eyes open with his fingers. He presses the heels of his palms against his eye sockets until his vision blurs and returns to normal.
Hannibal says nothing, just gazing down at Will with tired eyes until the other man speaks. He tightens the sash of his robe.
"What time is it?" Will asks. "How did I get here?" His head lolls on his shoulders, forcing him to slump forward against his knees.
"It's four am and you're in Baltimore, Maryland." Hannibal extends a hand to the man on the floor. "I'm assuming you drove here since your feet and legs appear to be fine. Please come in."
Will attempts to stand, but his legs are shaky like his breathing. He reaches to the wall for support. "I don't even remember leaving my house," he mumbles. "I woke up at 2:15 to get a towel and now I'm here."
"So you lost time." It isn't a question but Will nods anyway. Hannibal puts out a hand to steady the other man, placing it on his shoulder. "I'll make some tea. Come on."
Will trips over his own feet as Doctor Lecter guides him in. He falls to his knees and then faceplants into the carpet of Hannibal's office before the psychiatrist can catch him. "I think I'd be better off here on the floor, Doctor. Clearly I can't walk three feet without screwing it up."
Hannibal chuckles and helps Will to his feet. "Just come sit in a chair and I will bring the tea to you." He leads Will to one of the black padded chairs they usually sit across from each other in, sitting the man down carefully.
"I'm sorry I'm being so much of a pain in your ass, Doctor Lecter." Will glances at his feet before he looks at the face of the doctor.
"I assure you, Will, it is no trouble." There's softness behind the words that Will doesn't pick up on.
"Surely I woke you up? This is such an ungodly hour."
Hannibal's face splits into a smile. "Like I just said, it is no trouble. My home is always open to friends no matter how ungodly the hour. Now if you would excuse me, I will go make us some tea."
Will nods and stares at his hands, the nightmare still pulsing in his head. Hobbs' face won't fade, not completely, nor will his rasping voice. It's still right there just as vivid as it was only minutes before. Like a clingy animal, Will can't shake it away. He wonders if it will haunt him until his dying day. Then he realizes that the answer to that is most likely. Everything else he sees seems to haunt him. Why not add one more thing to the never-ending list?
He doesn't even realize he dozed off until Hannibal lightly touches his shoulder. The touch, though gentle, makes Will jump with a start.
"I apologize for startling you," Hannibal says. "I don't know how you take your tea, so I brought the entire set." He puts the tray down on the glass side table and offers Will the steaming mug.
"Just plain, thanks," Will grumbles and takes a sip of the dark liquid. It reminds him of coffee: bitter but comforting.
"This blend will help you find a deep sleep."
Deep sleep? "Doctor Lecter, I have to get home to my dogs. It's after four in the morning."
"I am well aware of the time, Will." Hannibal chuckles. "I think it best for you to sleep here. That way if you sleepwalk again, I'll be there to stop you from going too far."
Will drinks more of the tea. He decides it doesn't taste so bad, drinks half of it in one gulp. "What about your appointments?"
"What about them?"
"Won't I be a bother to them, being in here?" Will drains the remaining half of his tea.
Hannibal shakes his head in amused disbelief. "You won't be sleeping in here. I think you'll find my bed to be quite suitable."
"Your… What?" Will blinks and scratches his head, separating the patches of hair dried with sweat.
"My bed. There's one other thing that will help with your sleepwalking, and because I'm the nearest person to you, I will be the one to help."
Will's heart skips a beat. He hasn't shared a bed with anyone in a long time, and certainly never another man. "You don't mean… We're not gonna…" He doesn't finish his sentence.
"Of course not, Will. That is better for stress relief." Hannibal makes a sound of amusement. "No, this will be simple physical contact and nothing more."
Will works through that in his head. "So you're telling me we're going to cuddle because it'll stop me from sleepwalking?"
"If that's what you'd like to call it, then yes. Cuddling is a type of physical therapy, after all."
It's enough to convince Will. One time can't hurt, especially if it helps. He shrugs and puts his empty tea mug back on Hannibal's tray. "Fine. Let's just get this over with." His attempt to stand fails drastically, and he slumps back into the chair. "Let's try that again." This time, his balance wobbles but Hannibal steadies him.
"Come. Let's get you into bed." Hannibal leads Will forward with a hand between his shoulder blades and another on his arm. He decides the tea service can wait until morning.
The two men make their way to Hannibal's bedroom. Hannibal pushes the door closed behind them and turns on the light. "The less you are wearing, the better this will work."
"Are you suggesting I remove my clothes, Doctor Lecter?" Will frowns, less than pleased by the idea.
"That is exactly what I'm suggesting. I need you to trust me."
Will pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it to the floor out of habit. He doesn't notice the doctor's cringe of disgust, but thinks better of just leaving it on the ground and drapes it over the chair in the corner. "That's all I'm taking off," he says. "I'm not about to sleep naked with another person."
"It will be enough." Hannibal slips off his robe and hangs it on the hook behind the door.
"Just promise me that nothing else will happen."
Hannibal peels back the sheets and blankets of his bed. "I promise you that nothing will happen on my end. This may feel strange at first, but I encourage you to focus on relaxing."
Will snorts a half-laugh. "Nothing on your end. What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means I will do nothing but lie there unless you request otherwise. Now come here before I change my mind."
Will clambers into the bed, the deep-sleep-inducing tea beginning to kick in. The mattress is softer than he expected and he sinks in slightly. If only his own bed was this comfortable…
"Make yourself comfortable first," Hannibal instructs. He waits until Will has settled himself on his side to get in.
Will yawns and snuggles into the pillow. "'M ready," he mumbles.
Hannibal wraps himself around Will until as much of their skin is touching as possible, until they're chest to back and leg to leg. The other man tenses at first, obviously unused to such contact. "Just focus on your breathing," he whispers against Will's hair.
A few minutes pass before Will relaxes. Hannibal's clinging reminds him of one of his girlfriends in college. He has a sudden urge to roll to his other side. So he asks if it's okay.
"This is about you, Will. Anything you want to do is okay." Hannibal loosens his hold for Will to turn over.
Will tucks his arms against his chest and rolls to face Hannibal. He inhales deeply and relaxes again, leaning his head against Hannibal's sternum. It's not much longer before sleep takes him. He doesn't dream.
A few hours later, when the sun begins to peek through the curtains, Will wakes again. Natural instinct tells him to fight his restraints. He gets the better of instinct once he remembers where he is and settles back into the grasp of the psychiatrist. It does feel nice, after all. It's comfort he hasn't had in a long time.
"I trust you slept well?" Hannibal asks softly. He loosens his hold on Will.
Will nods. "Yeah." He yawns and stretches slightly, then curls up right back where he was. He'll never admit to liking it. Hannibal will probably be able to tell anyways.
"Then perhaps you should do that every night." Hannibal props himself on his elbow, gazing down at Will, who snorts.
"With who? I know a ton of people who want to just sleep with a mentally unstable special agent." Will rolls his eyes.
"As I've said, my home is always open to friends. I can arrange for you and your dogs to stay here for a while if you'd like."
"Why would you do that, Doctor Lecter?" Will frowns in confusion.
"Because I want you to get better."
Will exhales and sits up. "I'll go home and pack a few things and come back up around lunchtime."
Hannibal watches as Will redresses himself. "Make sure to bring your dogs and their supplies, too. If I'm in an appointment, please let yourself in."
"Thank you, Doctor Lecter." Will waves as he leaves. "I'll be back in a few hours."
