09: Looking Glass
A scream tore through the house like a knife into flesh. It was raw and piercing and tasting of copper, his throat tearing from the noise he produced as he filled the night with the sound of true terror.
Adam was shaking, body soaked in a layer of thin icy sweat as he sucked back one shaky breath after another, "Adam," broad hands slid over his shoulders to sooth, they were warm and steady in all he ways killer and lover could be.
Hannibal didn't know fear, didn't know much feeling beyond the trickle of emotion that occasionally found his vast desert. But Adam knew it; he knew the cold claws of terror as intimately as a lover. Stormy yes flashed frantic as he sat where he'd bolted upright in bed, searching the darkness as Hannibal worked to bring him back to the present, to their bedroom in Baltimore and the mattress they sat upon. Let the nightmare fall away and the man who had grappled with him until he held Adam beneath the water to drown dissolve from his mind.
But they didn't.
With every blink of eyes he saw the man leaning over him, snarling, demanding he die, disappear, return his body to him, every slid of eyelids casting darkness one moment creating a world of terror for Will Graham to rise again and hold him beneath the water's surface.
"Adam, you are fine. It was only a dream." The doctor soothed, brushing fingers through thick damp as he had once done to his dogs.
His dogs...
A pack of seven, strays, he knew, racing up to him to adore him with kisses and affection and unconditional love. Tails wagging as they eagerly greeted him wanting nothing more than what the empath could supply.
One of them he loved most of all.
Always there when he needed him most...but what was his name?
"The dreams don't stop." He argued, pushing away memories that had no right sitting at the front of his mind. He liked dogs, loved dogs, but that didn't mean he wanted a life in which they were his only company. That wasn't the life he wanted, that wasn't the man Adam wanted to be. "They never stop!" Fingers buried in his hair he gripped the long curls at their root, tugging in his frustration as the man beside him continued to rub circles.
In the week since Hannibal had discover Adam's night time escapades he had begun a stream of seemingly endless night terrors, the amnesiac rousing the doctor with bone chilling screams in the middle of the night. Insomnia had begun to claim Adam since, the younger man sleeping only a few scant hours before finding himself up for the remainder of the night and day. Sickly night sweats now stained the soft fabric of silk and satin sheets most nights, the ex-profilers night clothes seemingly ruined by the icy sweats that claimed him as he was brought to consciousness with sheet ripping dreams again and again.
One night out of seven his angel had managed to claim a full night's sleep, but it had been at the expense of the killers. He had to walking the halls one evening in a fit of sleep walking and the Ripper had taken it upon himself to follow him throughout the home, adjusting his lover's route to keep the man from ending his journey early and rousing himself in an abrupt fall as he had the week before.
Assumable, his angel was following the same specter Hannibal more frequently caught him watching during the day. His Adam's eyes following seemingly nothing as they looked just over his shoulder or his brow furrowing as he watched nothing through a door into the hallway. His angel now focused on the illusions of his mind instead of settling on him; his ear, his tie, his mouth. Him.
Hannibal was greedy for those eyes upon him and curious of what they focused upon when they were not.
"They will stop. We will make them stop." He hushed, pressing his mouth to the salt dampened skin of his temple. Silent, Adam nodded; a weak bob of his head as he took in the doctors grounding words and tried to feel reassured by their promise. He had trusted the man so far to care for him and keep him safe and despite the drugs he had done just that.
He was safe. He was safe and Hannibal was with him.
He was not with Will.
"Leave." He looked up, eyes flashing to something new, something that hadn't followed him home before.
It had only ever been the stag, the sound of hooves echoing through the vast hallways, the plumage of ebony feathers amongst an onyx pelt, the towering crown of antlers pointed sharp and stained with old blood. It had only ever been the stag before.
Never Will Graham.
He stood in the corner of the room, his clothing soaked, sticking to the outline of a too thin frame, his mouth set in a flat line, eyes darkened by the hatred they held for the man who sat in the arms of the Ripper. "You don't belong here."
"No!" He refused to leave, refused to relinquish the body he had fought so hard to keep night and night again, grabbing the lap at his bedside he hurled it across the room, shattering the crystal piece against the wall where his other self stood.
"ADAM!" Powerful hands took his face with a strength Adam all too often forgot, the killer by his side forcing his eyes to focus on him, to draw away from the torment standing across the room. They flickered still, those beautiful, horrified blue grey eyes, flashing from deep maroon to the corner filled with broken glass. He slid a thumb beneath one eye, wishing he could pluck it free from its socket and see as Adam saw. "Tell me what you are seeing."
He swallowed, his tongue suddenly feeling too big for his mouth. It was the first time he hadn't wanted to admit something to Hannibal. A truth he wanted to hide.
That he might be disappearing.
Like a lover trying to hide their terminal illness, he didn't want to admit that Will might be slipping back.
He'd been remembering things.
"When's my appointment?" He forced his tongue, a useless thing, to form the words. He needed it done. He needed to see what was making him sick and know if erasing the sickness would erase Will with it, or bring him back.
When he had first woken, first come to life in a world of darkness, fire, blood and stars, he had been free. He had lived without conscious or guilt or any desire other than his own and he had enjoyed it. Adam had eaten well during those short few days of peace within himself, rested in a way his body knew, even if he couldn't remember, he had not rested in months, maybe years, and dreamed of murders not his own.
Murders that made his blood run hot and surge with power when recalled beneath his hands.
Murders by the Ripper, the Angel Maker, the Mushroom Man, the Cradler and Buffalo Bill.
He had realized during those nights of death that the memories of blood were only the beginning, only the first to return to him, they would not be the last. First he recalled the killings, than he remembered their names. All while dreaming, things he did not recognize or understand.
One of the more prominent memories was of a pack of dogs, strays, he knew, racing up to him with adoration, messy kisses, and unconditional love; wanting nothing more than the love and attention of their master.
One of them always there when he needed him...but what was his name?
"I will have you in for a CT scan this morning. But not until ten." Hannibal reassured again, rubbing small soothing circles into his back. It wasn't the warm fur and wet noses he'd dreamed of, he wanted no, craved. The more he thought of the pack he'd left behind the stronger his desire to find them become. "Do you think you can go back to sleep this time?"
"No." Why lie, there was no reason or purpose for him to lie to Hannibal, the man would know when he finally fell asleep again, or in this case didn't. "I haven't been able to the last few nights; I don't see why tonight would be any different."
A nod, simple and understanding, "Very well," He pulled back the covers, stepping out onto the chilled hardwood floor and toward the bathroom. "Then perhaps we have time for an outing before daylight, something to take the monsters off your mind." The weather was growing colder, the nights longer and the hour was still only early. If he had a mark in mind they could be out and back in only a few short hours.
"An outing?" He trailed the man who waved him to follow into the ensuite.
"A date." He smiled.
A similar curve of smile pulled his angel's lips, a sense of calm coming over him with the broad hands running over his shoulders and down his arms, catching the tail of his cotton shirt to pull overhead and kiss sweat soaked skin, "A hunt."
"Precisely," He ran hands from shoulder to elbow, the motion soothing to the un-eased man standing before him. Adam was still on edge, his eyes more wild in their avoidance during these times of anxious energy then when he was pleasantly calm. Whatever he had seen in the corner and did not want to share had left him uncomfortable in the room around him and his very skin. It gave Hannibal an inclination to what he might be seeing standing in their room.
He would give him something else to focus on.
He turned his Adam toward the bathroom mirror, watching his angel's face from over his shoulder as he avoided his reflection and the image of his own eyes. "But first I'd like you to look, Adam."
His angel worried his lip, chewing the thin skin as hands continued to fall over him, sliding the length of his body as they tugged boxers down his thighs to settle around ankles, the ex-profiler lifting his feet to step out of the garment as Hannibal tossed them away. "Why do I need to look?" He challenged, he didn't want to. Wasn't feeling confident of whom he would see looking back at him through the looking glass, Alice was waiting on the other side for him now.
"To regain your sense of self," He stood behind him once more and Adam saw claws skim his naked chest in the reflective glass instead of surgeon steady hands. It was enough to make his heart skip a beat, to bring his pulse back to racing and have skittish eyes looking over his shoulder to the face of his stubble jawed lover, expression nearly non-existent in its minimalness as he meet eyes with Adam, still the same rich maroon, the same disheveled ashen hair, the same patient look of waiting for compliance he had seen countless times before. "Please look."
He didn't want to.
Turning to face the mirror Adam kept his eyes on the hand that fell down his chest, long ebony claws skimming his flesh to settle on the swell of his hip as he continued to avoid the mirrors eyes. His breath hitched when the unseen clawed appendage found the cleft of his ass, easing the mounds apart to touch one slicked finger to his opening. He hadn't seen the man behind him slick the digits with the oil he preferred, but Adam could smell the sweet scent of jasmine all the same, feel the slick of oiled fingers push past his tight ring and into him.
It made his breath catch in his throat, feet spreading wider to aid his lover and body leaning over the lip of the counter to better take him in as he felt the digit push further into him. "Hannibal," He keened when the finger brushed against the bundle of nerves buried deep inside, a long stroke making his toes curl. "Hannibal, please-"
"Look Adam," He commanded, pressing a second finger into his tight opening, the hand that had held his hip steady before sliding up the toned flesh of his abdomen to wrap around his throat, pressing the younger man back against him as he took the third. The hold forced his face to meet the mirror but it could not force his eyes. Those he closed, breath panting as a fourth joined the third and he was stretched. Hannibal loved to fill him in this way, to make him take too much too soon and force him to feel it as deep and intimate as possible.
"I-" A sudden jerk deep with had his breath catching again, nails scraping the marble counter in search of perch.
There was none to be found, but at least his mind was empty. William no longer perched in the darkness of his skull. He was given a reprieve from the profiler clawing his way back to the surface in this at least.
He was made empty all too soon not a moment after, "It won't be me in the mirror." He admitted at last, needing the return of Hannibal's distraction to keep his mind free of that which plagued him. There was almost a sense of relief at feeling the press of the doctor's mushroom head against his opening. Hand still curled around his throat, finger and thumb balanced to keep his jaw in place, he still could not move to turn away from the mirror.
"We will make it you," he reassured, a kiss far softer than his grip could imply pressed like a feather to Adam's cheek as thrust inside.
The intrusion was sudden, the girth filling him entirely in one smooth motion all the way to his core, it had stormy eyes flying open and lips falling wide, and there was he. Will Graham, staring back at him in the mirror, just as he knew he would be. But there was something he hadn't expected in his image of the profiler, he was afraid. Afraid of the monster that held him tight against them, black marbled skin pressed to creamy pale and jagged claws gripping the curve of his jaw tight enough to bruise and make him look.
Will was afraid of the monster filling him from behind, terrified of the beast made of darkness and death thrusting into his body while Adam reveled in it, his cock leaking pre at the sight of the merciless beast standing at his back, his towering crown of antlers reaching high enough to scrap plaster from the ceiling.
This was a torture for William and a win for the angel born of his inner darkness. He leaned back against the body of his lover, let the feeling of open cotton pajamas and plastic buttons against his back comfort him as he watched the man he wished to destroy twist in suffering in the looking glass before him. If he could not kill the man within the realm of his dreams than he would allow the darkness of the killer he'd come to love break him for him. "Hannibal," He moaned the name, rolling his hips to meet each thrust that filled him, drawing a guttural sound from the Ripper as he took him again, another deep moving thrust filling him with pleasure as his other self suffered.
He hoped it would be enough to break him.
The grip lessoned, hand falling from his throat to take his hip once more, hold Adam steady as he filled him over and over, a steady rhythm of deep moving thrusts holding him in place with an ocean of pleasure as he watched Will grip the counter, shoulders shaking, cock leaking and fear consuming.
Adam looked back over his shoulder to meet eyes with his lover, they were blown with lust, dark and consuming, to leave little more than a ring of red around their iris, his thin lips parted with his own labored breaths as he chased his release. To Adam's surprise amongst the disheveled ashen locks a crown of antlers as dark as the beast that held William towered above him.
It made his cock jump and body shudder with another wave crashing through him, a renewed strength and confidence returning to Adam as he found the key to Will's destruction, turning back to the mirror he watched the profiler disappear within the glass, retreating back within the confines of their mind shaken and disturbed.
It was himself now he saw in the looking glass now, Adam staring back at him with quivering lips and keening moans as the beast thrust him full.
He looked back over his shoulder to once again meet eyes with his lover and came, moaning out the killers name as he spilled his seed across the counter and felt Hannibal's own coat his insides in a hot spurt.
They stood there in silence, each catching their breath for several long moments before Hannibal finally spoke, "Who is it now that you see within the mirror Adam?" He asked, easing his softening cock from his lover's overs tight heat, arms like steel keeping the younger man upright on shaking legs as he leaned back against the Rippers chest and let his head loll against a shoulder. He looked down his nose at the mirror and the glimpsed the face of the furious profiler hidden inside. "I see both me and him." He admitted, turning in Hannibal's arms to steal a kiss, from the man who would help him destroy his other half, "but now I'm the one winning."
OoOoO
TBC