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Title: A Very High Price
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
Table: 20 in 20 Challenge, tv_universe
Prompt: 4, Green
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the lovely Hannibal Lecter or Will Graham, unfortunately, just borrowing them for a while. Please do not sue.
***Hannibal frowned, listening as Will spoke, holding up a hand when the young man's voice became higher and more agitated. "Slow down, Will. Take your time."
From what he could gather, Will had been sleepwalking -- and had awakened with bruises all over his body. He had no idea what had caused those bruises, and that fact frightened him -- as it would anyone. He had no idea what had happened to him.
"Was there any evidence of .... nonconsensual acts?"
He hated to ask the question; Will was upset enough as it was, and Hannibal didn't want to put the idea that he could have been raped while in his dreaming state into his mind. But he had to know if his boyfriend had been sexually assaulted.
But Will shook his head, vehemently disavowing the suggestion. "No. Nothing like that. I think I'd know it if anybody had touched me. Or done anything else."
"Yes, I believe you would, as well." Hannibal nodded, satisfied that Will hadn't been assaulted, a feeling of relief flowing through him. No one else had the right to touch Will in that way -- or in any way. Will was his, and his alone.
He would kill anyone who laid a hand on his property.
"Will, if you don't mind, please take off your shirt." His voice was crisp and clear; this wasn't a request, but a command. "I want to see these bruises. Maybe looking at them will give me some idea of how you acquired them."
At first, he thought that Will would refuse; the young man opened his mouth, holding up both hands, but then he nodded and got to his feet, reaching for the buttons of his shirt. Hannibal could see his hands shaking; he was having difficulty with the buttons.
"Here, let me." His voice was soft and gentle as he stepped towards Will, taking over the task of opening the younger man's shirt.
His scowl intensified as he pushed the fabric back from Will's slender shoulders, revealing the network of bruising across his chest, down his stomach, and extending over his shoulders and upper arms. Whatever had happened, it looked to have been brutal.
How had Will managed to sleepwalk through this?
He wanted to gather his young lover into his embrace, to comfort him, but he was sure that his touch would only cause Will pain. He needed to put some salve on the bruises; they were already turning green, which meant that they were at a painful point.
Guiding Will to the touch, he let the young man sit down, running gentle fingers through Will's hair. "I'll be right back, Will. I'm going to get some salve for those bruises."
When Will didn't answer, only nodding and not looking up, Hannibal exited the room quickly, clenching his hands into fists at his sides once he knew that he was out of Will's line of vision. He was incensed that anyone could do something like this.
He didn't doubt for a moment that a person had done this.
He would find whoever had touched Will, and they would pay for what they had done. They would feel far more pain than they had made Will feel before he dispatched them. It would give him great pleasure to do so, and to witness their pain.
It only took him a few moments to retrieve the salve from the bathroom cabinet upstairs, then come back to the office where Will was waiting for him.
Without a word, Hannibal sat down on the couch beside Will, turning the young man's body slightly to the side so that he could begin to smooth the salve over Will's shoulders, over the purple and green bruises that stood out starkly against his pale skin.
The sight of those bruises made Hannibal killingly angry.
Yes, he would find out who had done this, and that person would suffer. He would make sure of that. They wouldn't get away with causing Will so much pain.
He would make sure that his Will was avenged -- and himself, as well. No one dared to touch what he regarded as his own, without paying a price for that privilege. And this time, the price would be a very high one indeed. One that he would take great pleasure in extracting.
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