I do not own these characters, nor any of the material that it comes from. All ownership rights go to NBC television network, where I watched this awesome show. First crack at a Hannibal fanfic!
"This is a part of your therapy", Hannibal stated in his accented, calm voice. "In order to properly work, you must first learn how to relax. Without any relaxation, or sanctuary for your mind to go to, you will eventually and inevitably die, and not by the hands of a killer but of your own". Will glanced at Hannibal with glassy blue eyes. He knew Hannibal was right, but that didn't make accepting the advice any easier. Telling him to relax was like telling a cannibal that human meat and beef is the same thing. It was absolutely impossible and pointless to do. Will glanced up at Hannibal. His grey-blonde hair always appeared in the same state, no hair left out of place, and parted perfectly down the side. The doctor seemed without human error, sometimes unnaturally so. His office, with its hundreds of books and expensive looking décor were of the same look. Everything was placed in its exact place, with tastefully artsy statues and a sophisticated feel. The burgundy walls with gold trim, and the large cherry desk and bookshelves added to the atmosphere exuding of intelligence. Just looking at the doctor, one could get the impression that he didn't stress. Dr. Lecter was like the calm amidst a torrent or rain, always cool, calm, collected, and precise. His mind was a tool of absolute perception. He was like a human compass, able to predict a person's thoughts, psyche, persona, and pretty much everything there was to tell about someone. That is exactly why Will would feel simultaneously uncomfortable and comfortable in his presence. Hannibal was able to understand him in ways that not many people were able to.
"Okay", Will slightly rolled his eyes, making sure not to look at Hannibal with full eye contact, "So, doctor, how exactly would you suggest for me to do that?" Lecter looked at Will with his usual precocious half-smile. "There are plenty of ways to relax. The hard part is finding what is right for you. The majority of people enjoy listening to music, spending time with animals, reading, sleeping, or other ceremonies in order to get themselves to relax, if but for a moment. May I make a suggestion?" Will warily glanced at Hannibal's eyes, trying to decipher what his exact plans for him were. He still wasn't entirely sure what game he was playing at. He initially disliked the doctor, what with him trying to psychoanalyze his profile. He detested those sorts of things. He didn't want someone inside his head. Considering the world he was in, his mind was one of the few sanctuaries-and the seventh circle of Hell-that he had. His mind took him to places that other people would kill for. Or, y'know, the thoughts of people that do kill. It was one of the few places where people couldn't control him…couldn't judge him…a place where he could just get the privacy he craved. Hannibal looked at him with that smile. A smile that looked at him with intense seriousness and no fear or mocking. That is usually what he got. People would give him that incredulous look with their eyes raised, and their faces practically shrieking "What a freak!" It was strange how he could both trust and distrust Hannibal. He guessed that was just how sad his life was. Will was shaken out of his thoughts by the silence of the room. He quickly glanced around the room to affirm where he was, and finally looked at Hannibal. Hannibal was standing, well leaning actually, on his expensive desk in a grey business shirt, smart black pants, and shiny black Italian leather shoes. His face wore the expression of effortless patience, with that same half-smile and eyes filled with intrigue.
"Are you ready?" Hannibal said. "For what?" Hannibal looked at Will with his neutral expression, but his eyes were giving away a different type of expression…one that looked of almost…hunger. "I suggested that we try massage for your relaxation method. I could demonstrate on you how you should massage yourself. I often do it when I am in need of meditation, plus it does wonders for the body." Will's face immediately dropped. "No. No. No. Absolutely not." Hannibal's expression still stayed its calm, half-smile expression. "I'm sorry, you would usually have a choice in the matter, but our good friend Jack Crawford has charged me with your mental sanity. If you ever want to work in the field again, you will need to take my suggestions as your psychiatrist." Will's expression darkened. What a cheap trick. He hated people touching him. All people did was hurt. All people seemed to be able to do is cause pain. Graham's apprehension and doubt seemed to shine out of his face in waves. Another thing that really annoyed him about Lecter. He could easily get into his head. Hannibal's expression seemed soften in the eyes ever so slightly, his face remaining calm and his hands staying crossed in front of his chest. Will looked at Hannibal with the same wary, hurt expression.
"How would this…massage…happen? What do you want to do?" Lecter slowly uncrossed his arms and made his way over to where Will was sitting, on one of the longer sofas in his large room. He looked at Will with those calm, grey eyes. "I just want to show you some techniques, and perhaps get you to relax a little. You hold so much tension within…it will poison you, and make you unfit to work. "Although Will did not appreciate this idea in the slightest, he saw that he had no other choice. He finally looked up from his staring contest with the floor and tiredly made eye contact with Hannibal, letting his eyes fall slightly. He was absolutely exhausted from his constant fear and sleepless nights. It probably didn't help very much that he hardly ate, and lived off of coffee and little else. Hannibal beamed -calmly of course- at Will. "Lay face down on the sofa, and think of a place to escape. Think of your paradise. And let me take you to a place of respite." Hannibal allowed Will to awkwardly situate himself on the sofa, glancing back once more to the face of Hannibal, a look that clearly read this had better damn well help-or else!. Hannibal reseated himself so he was sitting right next to Will, and ever so slowly and gently, placed his hands widespread on either side of Will's back. Hannibal expected the flinch, Will seemed to despise any form of physical contact. However, he wanted to make Will surrender to him, in a way that he would not willingly surrender to anyone else. Hannibal simply let his hand lay on Will's back, letting the warmth from his strong, capable hands soak into Will. He could feel everything. He could feel Will's heart beat ever-so-slightly, as well as Will's uneven breathing. "Relax, Will. I quite believe you will enjoy this." Hannibal began. He gently rubbed his hands along the vertebrate of Will's spine, bringing them all the way up to the base of Will's neck, and back down his back, rubbing along Will's sides, almost caressing him. At first, Will really had to get used to the feeling of someone else's hands touching him, especially in such an intimate manner. He couldn't seem to get himself to relax, and he hated being in such a vulnerable position. But he had to admit, the warmth of Hannibal's hands were welcomed along his sore, tired back muscles. He never seemed to be able to relax, and this was kind of forcing him to. Hannibal continued to work. His fingers going along the same pattern on Will's back, feeling the pressures of the week. He gradually applied more pressure with the tips of his fingers, able to feel more of the tired back muscles. He began to work at the knots he found in Will's back, stopping several times to work on the shoulder that got stabbed during Will's time in the police force. He could feel Will's breathing slightly change, going to a slower, more even breathing. Hannibal could feel Will practically melting under his touch after his discomfort faded away. "Allow yourself to relax. Go to a place where the nightmares don't exist." Graham would occasionally grunt or squirm in discomfort at a particularly tough knot, but he was definitely enjoying himself. A couple times, he even let a few ooh and hmmm's escape his throat. Hannibal's hands were like heat-seeking missiles for the pain in his back, it seemed to simply go away. He concentrated-or what could be called concentration through the haze of massage. Hannibal snuck a look at Will's face, and grinned a toothy grin at Will's unnaturally relaxed face. The eyes drooped, but not in the tired way they usually did, but in such a relaxed manner it was refreshing to look at. His messy black curls brushed against his forehead and the pillows on the couch. He was no longer flinching or grimacing, but looked as if he had truly gone to a place of peace. Hannibal wasn't sure which he liked better, the fact that he was causing Will to be like this and completely surrender to his touch, or that he was able to see Will's face. Graham even began to arch a little to his touch, his firm back muscles slightly twitching. This continued for about 15 minutes. Hannibal sensually dragged his hands across Will's back one final time, and slowly got up. "Your time for today is done. Did that help at all? Are you feeling relaxed?" Silence answered Hannbial. "Will?" Hannibal glanced at Graham, and couldn't help the warmth that blossomed through his chest at the sight of a sleeping Will. Hannibal studied Will's face for another 3 minutes, intrigued by the unnatural look of utter relaxation, dipped his head to the floor, chuckled, then sat at his desk and began looking at some files of new patients. He will let Will sleep for as long as he needs in order to do his job to the best of his ability. And if it allows him to study his Will for a while longer, then a couple hours off schedule will be worth it.
Hope you enjoyed! Please, please, please leave me criticism! Anything you have to say at all would be appreciated!