Damn you season finale, for being so incredibly awesome and unforgettable. I should be studying and instead I'm writing this fic because of the Hannigram feels. Dammit.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything and blablabla.
As usual, reviews and critics are much much much appreciated :)

Enjoy :D

The cold startled him, making Will retrieve his hand quickly. His heart was still beating loudly from the adrenaline of the events he had just relived, the sound of it filling his ears. A chill ran down his spine, making him realize that he was kneeling in the snow dressed only in his nightclothes, boxer and undershirt, his skin frozen and numb. He pushed himself off the ground and looked feverishly around him.

"My name is Will Graham" he whispered to himself between heavy breaths, his voice feeble and quivering, barely reaching his ears, seemingly swallowed by the dark that surrounded him. "It's-" he looked quickly at his watch " 4.30 in the morning."

Almost 5 hours had passed since he had gone to sleep. He cast a panicked look around him, growing more and more agitated, his eyes seeing only a few trees and a snow-covered field in the darkness. He could barely feel his hands and feet, meaning he had been out there for quite a while.

"A-and…I don't know where I am." God knows where he could be.

'Don't panic' Will thought to himself, blowing some air onto his icy hands and rubbing them together in a vain attempt to warm up, regaining only a bit of sensibility. He took a couple trembling breaths, trying to calm himself: his mind needed to be as lucid as could be.

As soon as his ragged breaths and frantic heartbeats ceased from filling his ears, Will heard some faint noise in the distance and, focusing and listening intently, realized it was barking.

Grasping this tiny hope, he started taking some wobbly steps in that direction, soon understanding it was the right path since he could discern some traces of his earlier unconscious passage in the snow. After a few moments, relief washed over him as he could make out the silhouette of his house in the distance, barely seeable in the moonlight, and he took up speed making his way home.

By the time he stepped on the porch the dogs were in hysterics, having been calling for him from inside the door probably since he had left. He shushed them as he got in, petting them to calm them down as they swarmed around him, making sure he was safe.

His feet felt sore and frost-bitten as he walked to the bathroom, picking up a blanket on his way. As his eyes met his reflection in the mirror over the sink, a well-known bearded face overlapped his own, the image of it flickering like static. Unable to deal with it at the moment, he turned to fill a basin with hot water, sat on the ground with his back to the wall and immersed his muddy feet, starting to scrub them with his bare hands. Once done, he sat in the corner of the room and wrapped himself in the blanket, hugging his knees, seeking warmth.

Even with his house providing a safe harbor, Will didn't feel safe at all. His mind had escaped from his grip and control, even more than he had feared to be the case in the last period, and there was no telling what could happen next. He was afraid to even close his eyes.

His head bent till the forehead was resting on his knees, Will didn't know how much time passed, but as he heard his phone ring he cast a glance outside the window and realized it was almost sunrise.

"Hello?" he answered with a groggy voice.

"Good morning Will."

"Doctor Lecter" he recognized, hearing his voice tamped down a bit the mess of emotions that was running wild within him.

"I hope I didn't wake you."

"To be honest I don't know if I even slept last night" Will admitted.

"How come?"

"I…I might have had an episode." The silence that followed that statement seemed to last forever in his ears.

"Are you okay now, Will?"

"I…I don't know."

"I'm coming over."

Less than an hour later he heard a car stopping outside his house. Will opened the door letting the dogs out, still wrapped in the blanket but having put on a pair of pants for decency, and found his psychiatrist and friend waiting on the other side, a concerned expression softening his features.

"Hello, Will."

"Hello, Doctor Lecter."

He saw Hannibal taking in his appearance and, as he probably looked worse for wear, putting a gentle hand on his cheek, almost a caress, effectively grounding his fragile mind.

"Tell me what happened."

Hannibal made him sit in the armchair and after making him a hot cup of tea, took a seat beside him.

"I went to bed the other night as usual around midnight and uh…I don't remember much before opening my eyes and finding myself kneeling outside, in the middle of a field covered in snow. I couldn't see my house from there, only my footprints and the distant barking of the dogs led me back." Will stole a glance at him before looking away again. "I was too afraid to sleep after" he confessed with a bitter smile.

"You look very pale but you're not hurt, are you?"

"No, I'm okay."

He hummed his agreement, then let Will take a couple sips of the warm beverage before asking the question that most interested him.

"Do you remember the dream you were having before regaining your senses?"

Will didn't move a muscle, weighing his answer. "Bits and pieces" he answered truthfully, stealing a glance at him.

"Would you elaborate for me, please?"

"It was cold. I…I was fighting among the others, side by side. We had stayed behind to protect the people from an enemy army that was following, now in sight. We were all fighting feverishly, their numbers surpassing ours greatly. One of us didn't make it, he…he took a risk and died because of it."

Will could feel Hannibal's eyes on him, like he were being studied.

"I hear hesitation in your voice, and you didn't give any name nor any detail." He tilted his head a bit, as if to get a better look at him. "You're denying your own recalling of the dream."

"You would too if you were dreaming about fairytales as if they were real."

"If I remember correctly, I already told you that the legend of King Arthur is not a mere fairytale."

Will scoffed at the mention of it. "Yes, well, given that I only know this much about the legend, how am I supposed to even take in consideration that-"He stopped midsentence.

"That you could possibly be reliving memories long buried?" Hannibal finished for him.

"Not my memories."

"Who you were and who you are now, is it not the same person?"

Will looked at him with a skeptical look in his eyes. Wasn't he supposed to be the one going mad?

"The events that occurred in the time between your childhood and now, do they make you a different person?"

"We're talking Middle ages, Doctor. Centuries ago. Not a 30-year gap."

"Despite being only 30 years ago you have no recollection of your early years and most of your childhood, yet you do know you've lived them. And sometimes fragments of memory come back to you, usually when triggered by something that provides as a mean of connection to a past long forgotten. Those buried most deeply within us manage to reach the surface only when our defenses are lowered."

"When we sleep."

"Exactly."

"Still, my childhood is part of my life, of the years I've lived from birth till now."

"Humour me. The memories of your childhood sometimes come back to you, so do these ancient ones. What separates them from the person you are now is only time and events, in one case more than the other. But how is it any different?"

"Are we talking about reincarnation, Doctor?

"Are you such a devoted Christian that you reject the very possibility of it?"

Touché.

"I don't really know what to think right now."

Silence fell on them. Will, warming his hands on the cup, was lost in contemplation, a new idea making way into his mind, like a single drop of ink staining a whole cup of water. Absorbed by his thoughts, he didn't notice the barely concealed grin that curved the edges of the doctor's lips.

"You should rest now, Will. You look exhausted."

"I am" he agreed with a huff.

"You should try to get some sleep." Will's head snapped up, eyes wide with dread. "I'll watch over you so that you may rest without worry."

"I can't ask that of you" Will murmured, a bit taken aback.

"And you are not, since I'm offering. Besides, I'm concerned for your wellbeing and my schedule is free this morning so you see, it really is not a problem."

"I've imposed too much on you already, I can't-"

"I won't accept a 'no' as an answer."

They stared at each other for a bit, till Will finally gave in with a "Thank you" and went back to his bed after having let the dogs back in. Hannibal gave him some sleeping pills that he had brought with him since he knew the other hadn't slept much and possibly needed some help relaxing. After gulping down a couple with the rest of the tea, now lukewarm, he laid down and pulled the covers over him, turning on his side. From this position he could see the doctor's legs from the knee down, as he sat on the armchair outside the door with some of the dogs laying lazily at his feet.

"Rest well, Will."

"Thank you, Hannibal."

As he felt his body slowly relax and sight unfocusing, Will heard him call for him.

"Will?"

"Yes?" he managed to answer, voice thick with sleep.

"What was the name of the knight that died in your dream?"

"Dagonet" he mumbled, before finally giving in to unconsciousness.