Disclaimer. If it was mine, you'd know, but it's not.

The stream in the recesses of Will Graham's mind is, to all accounts, a pleasant one. The sun shines on it in a way common to memories of summer days in Louisiana as a boy, and it bubbles in a dance with all the fish that lie underneath. It is a more than serviceable spot to let his mind retreat.

The problem, then, is there's always been a second. Picture, a ghostly imprint or double exposure – that's close enough to the truth. The only quiet here is underwater, and Will had spent his life making a career of keeping himself barely afloat. Instead, the deep churn of the pupil-drawing, pulse pumping urges are a symphony accompanying the routine of his life, echoing in his footsteps at every crime scene.

For the longest time he'd been sick from fighting the current, heaving gasps against the dark water of exact potential and every thing he could do. But his struggle's come to its end – he used to be stone carved and shaped by the desiresthoughtsimpressionseverything of everyone surrounding him, a man drowning in awful impulse and mirror reflections. Now, he's abandoned keeping his head up for air, his body, too, because he's no longer man drowning, he's no longer man

– he's just the water now.

Author's Notes. Written for the 100 fandoms challenge. Written for prompt 68 – swim. (Yes, I'm aware my Red Dragon 'fic used elements of Hannibal. It was still foremostly a Red Dragon 'fic. I'm counting them separate.)

Originally posted 2021.12.26