A/N: Sorry to keep you all waiting! Had to work Thursday, then the season finale dag near killed me. But here is the fourth chapter. The next one should be ready by tomorrow! And thank you all for your lovely reviews, they mean so much to me!
Disclaimer: I do not own Hannibal, the NBC series, or any of its characters.
The scent of freshly brewed coffee washed over Will, pulling him out of his empty sleep and bringing a smile to his lips. It was not just any coffee; it was his favorite brew, from Cafe Cordero, which he visited every day.
As he creeped further out of his slumber, he brain started to piece together the events of yesterday- had it even been yesterday? How long had he been asleep?- and he was ripped from his dreams by the sudden realization that he had fallen asleep next to a person who had drugged and kidnapped him.
Will sat bolt upright in bed as a shot of adrenaline surged through him. He looked around the room in a panic, expecting Hannibal to be lurking, waiting for him to wake up.
Once he realized he was alone, in the room at least, Will calmed down enough to think. He put all of his anxieties towards analyzing his situation.
Mid-morning daylight filtered in through the windows where the maroon curtains had been pulled back. Having light gave him little advantage, since it gave him no further insight into his surroundings; the room was still basically empty, save for the large four-poster bed, a desk and chair in the corner, a heavy oak dresser, and two doors. The red walls seemed close around him, and he feared at any moment that they would start dripping.
Will brought himself back to focus. The first step was to find his clothes. Really, any clothes would do, as long as he was not wandering out into broad daylight stark naked was he got out of here.
The dresser was empty, Will found upon pulling out the drawers. So was the desk. This did not appear to be Hannibal's bedroom; it had to be a guest bedroom- if this was even Hannibal's house to begin with. On further thought, Will shuddered at the possibility that this room had been specially prepared for him.
Will knew where the exit was, but he was not ready to face Hannibal yet, should the other man still be in the house. So he inspected the other door, and found it led into a large, seashell white bathroom. He looked for anything that could be used as a weapon, but found the bathroom to be quite empty as well. The only things in the shower were soap and shampoo; a dark green towel hung from the wall rack; and a toothbrush and toothpaste lay by the sink. At the very least, Hannibal was accommodating.
Wanting a door between him and Hannibal should the other man come to check on him, Will crept as quietly as he could into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. He went to lock it, but found that the lock had been removed. However, he did find a light blue, silk bath robe hanging from a steel hook on the back of the door. He ripped it down, eager for a modicum of modesty, and wrapped it around himself.
Will felt soothed by the soft lighting of the bathroom. He slumped against the door, feeling drained as the last vestiges of the drug lingered in his system.
It would help to have food; now that he was aware of it, his stomach felt like it was cannibalizing itself. He had to have his strength, but it seemed Hannibal was bent on keeping him weak.
Suddenly, Will heard the other door to his room open. Hannibal seemed to pause in the doorway, obviously noticing that Will was no longer in bed.
Footsteps trailed into the room; Will heard something being set down, and then the carefully calculated steps came right over to the bathroom door. Will felt his heart hammering away in his chest, so vehemently that he feared Hannibal would be able to hear it. He put his hand on the doorknob, just in case he had to hold the door shut. He knew it would be a futile attempt in his current state, but he would go out fighting.
Will nearly jumped out of his skin as a knocking sounded against the door, right next to his head. He seized up, unable to say or do anything at the thought of the man standing on the other side of the heavy piece of wood between them.
"Will," a painfully familiar voice said, the thick, rich accent muffled by the door. Just the sound of his name sent Will's heart up into his throat.
There was a long silence as Will kept fearfully silent, quivering with anticipation. It felt like Hannibal was breathing down the back of his neck, like his eyes were piercing through the wood and roaming all over Will's body. It made him feel things he should not be feeling about a man who had abducted him.
A chuckle seemed to vibrate through the door, as if Hannibal were leaning along it to get even closer to Will. It made Will lunge away, with legs that could barely hold him up, causing him to sprawl violently against the unforgiving tile.
Another beat of silence later, and then Hannibal was leaving the room in as leisurely a pace as he had arrived. The door closed behind him with a solid click. Will was left cowering in the spacious bathroom, wanting nothing more than to pass out again and be unaware of the goings on of Hannibal Lecter.
It took what seemed like ages for Will to regain his composure. He finally stood up, ignoring the painful throb in the parts of his body he had fallen heavily on, and braved venturing out into the room.
Will was greeted with rose petals. Ruby red rose petals were scattered all over the room, mostly concentrated on the bed. He could smell them lightly sweetening the air, although the smell did little to assuage his nerves.
It was such a romantic gesture, that if the circumstances had been different, Will would have been thoroughly wooed. But he was trying to focus on hating the man who had been his friend and then tried to seduce him, had drugged him, and kidnapped him out of obsession. What had Will gotten himself into? Was this why something about Hannibal had always felt a little off? Because there was a psychopath lingering inside?
Another scent broke through the flowery aroma permeating the air. Will's eyes glanced wildly about until they fell upon the tray of breakfast that had been left on the desk across the room.
Will nearly stumbled over his feet again to get to it. His stomach growled at the promise of food, and Will did not hesitate to throw himself into the chair or in shoveling the hearty breakfast down his throat. He barely tasted the gourmet style of the egg omelette he was eating, or the peculiar taste to the sausage links or the bacon. All he knew was that they were giving him the strength he so desired.
Once he was done gorging himself, Will's nose was caressed with the scent of coffee again. He noticed the white mug sitting innocently by the tray, still steaming with its fresh contents. Will picked it up gingerly and cradled it in his hands, bringing it close to his face so he could breathe in the familiar scent of the coffee he desired every day.
It occurred to him that Hannibal could be trying to drug him a second time. But that would be too obvious. Besides, Hannibal already had him holed up in a room like a scared little rabbit afraid to come out of its burrow. Why would he sedate Will now?
Will chanced a sip of the coffee. It tasted as heavenly as it always did. But then, he had not been able to notice anything off about it the first time around, until he was beginning to pass out in the parking lot.
Nevertheless, Will downed the coffee, too thirsty to protest. And the caffeine might help to slightly battle the effects of the drugs, he argued.
Standing up, Will walked quietly over to the singular window in the room to get a look outside. Perhaps he would be able to tell where he was, and if he ever got a hold of a phone, he could call someone and tell them where to locate him.
He was in the front part of the second story of the house. It was the same house that Will had been to frequently, in order to visit Hannibal. He was comforted by the fact that he now knew a bit of its layout.
All of a sudden, a figure appeared on the sidewalk below him, as if it had just exited the front door. The person turned around and glanced directly up at Will's window.
It was Hannibal. He smiled lasciviously as his eyes met Will's, and he raised a hand in farewell as he headed to the car parked in the driveway.
Will ducked away from the window. His adrenaline was pumping once more.
Hannibal was leaving, most likely to go to work- it was a Tuesday, or a Wednesday maybe, and his patients would surely be waiting by now. So Hannibal knew that Will knew that he was leaving, and would be gone for the better part of the day. How was he so comfortable leaving his abductee here alone, unsupervised?
Will strode open to the door to the room and attempted to open it. It was unlocked.
With the utmost caution and silence, Will crept out into the hallway. He listened, barely breathing, trying to hear anyone else that may at that present moment be in the house. All was deathly silent.
There was nothing between him and the door but air. He could leave now.
Will tried to take another step towards the stairs, but his legs did not feel right; they felt separate from his body. A dizziness overtook him, causing him to reel back from the stairway. He had been drugged again. It had to have been the damned coffee, because Hannibal would never alter the food.
The reason for doing so was because he could not be here to watch Will, and he had to be at work to keep up appearances. Will's coworkers would not be looking for him for a few more days, because Will was on leave, and he had not tried to contact any of them in the meantime. Did that mean Hannibal intended to keep him here indefinitely?
Mentally kicking himself, Will tried to drag himself back into the room. He did not want to pass out on the floor like this. It would be hours before Hannibal would return, and to find him unconscious outside the room- the man would be upset. Why did he care so much if Hannibal was upset?
Will drifted off into the abyss once more, his pale face resting amidst the rose petals that were scattered about him like droplets of blood.
