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Title: Back From the Past
Pairing: Will Graham/Sherlock Holmes
Table: 9, 50ficlets
Prompt: 5, Past
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.
***"Do you think this could be something from one of our pasts coming back to haunt us?" Will looked anxiously at Sherlock, sipping at his cup of tea.
Sherlock shook his head decisively, frowning as he did so.
"Will, you don't really believe that something -- or someone -- would come back from the past to threaten us, do you?" he asked, his gaze resting on his boyfriend.
Even as he said the words, Sherlock could feel his heart rate speed up. He knew better than most people that the past could come back, especially when it was least expected. It had a tendency to show up at terribly inconvenient times.
Like when he was trying to have a restful bit of a vacation in the countryside with his boyfriend, he thought sourly. He should have known something like this would happen.
Now it only remained to find out just who had come back.
He didn't think it was anyone from his past; as far as he knew, all of his biggest enemies were dead, and there was no coming back from that. But he was more worried about Will's past, and who just might have a vendetta against them.
Hannibal. That was the person he was focused on now. Sherlock was almost positive that only Hannibal would be so bold as to attack them in such a way.
Besides, who else would want to go after Will, if not that bastard? No one else would have any reason to take a shot at his boyfriend.
Just thinking about the fact that someone had leveled a bullet at Will, even if it hadn't actually done any damage, made Sherlock's anger boil to the surface. No one was going to threaten Will and get away with it. Not while he was around.
Whoever had done this, he would find them and punish them.
No one had a right to come into their lives and disrupt them this way. No one had a right to take shots at Will when he hadn't done anything.
"You think it's Hannibal, don't you>" Will asked, breaking into Sherlock's thoughts. "He's really the only person who would do something that bold. Taking a shot at someone isn't his usual way of working, so it was probably just a warning."
"Warning or not, he's still a dangerous man, and we need to be on our guard," Sherlock told him, his voice quiet and serious. "He could hurt you, Will."
"Or you," Will whispered, his voice trembling. "If anything happened to you, I'd never forgive myself. It'd be my fault, too, because I led you to him."
Sherlock remembered the look on Hannibal's face when he had found out that Will was leaving the States to move to London, to live with Sherlock. He had no doubt that Hannibal had been enraged -- and now, he was putting some sort of vengeful plan into action.
That might sound melodramatic, but Sherlock didn't doubt it was the truth. This was part of Will's past that was coming back with a vengeance.
But he was determined to defeat that past, to leave it in the dust.
The expression on Lecter's face when he had said the words "Will belongs to me" was something that he could never forget. He had been face to face with pure evil in that moment. He'd felt nothing but revulsion, a hatred that he'd rarely known before.
He wasn't going to let that monster get anywhere near Will again. Will was his, his to protect and be with. His to love, his to spend his life with.
If Lecter thought to come after them and turn their world upside down, then he would have a hard time of it. Together, Sherlock thought, he and Will would defeat that evil.
Hannibal might be back from the past to try and disrupt Will's life, but he hadn't reckoned on just how strong Will had become -- or just how much Sherlock was determined to keep him safe. If it came down to a confrontation, then he was ready for it.
Yes, he would confront Lecter. In fact, he looked forward to it.
He watned to make sure that monster knew that he no longer had a place in Will's life. After what he had done to Will, he belonged in a jail cell.
Sherlock dearly wanted to put him there, but at the moment, he didn't have enough proof to do so. Once he did, then he would make sure that Lecter ended up where he belonged -- no matter what he might have to do to get that proof across to the right people.
His boyfriend was no longer going to be chained to his past, Sherlock thought grimly. Not if he could help it. He'd do anything to set Will free from those chains.
"Nothing's going to happen to me, Will," he said softly, reaching out to take his boyfriend's hand.
"It had better not," Will answered, raising Sherlock's hand to his lips and kissing his knuckles. "Because I wouldn't know to live the rest of my life without you in it."
Those words warmed Sherlock's heart; no one had ever cared for him so deeply before, or shown such a complete devotion to him. "I'll be all right, Will," he murmured, his gaze meeting the other man's. "And so will you. We'll get through this, and we'll come out on the winning side."
Sherlock hoped that he was telling the truth. At the moment, he had the feeling that they would both face more danger than they had bargained for, within a very short time.
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