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Title: Balm For His Soul
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
Table: 8, 50ficlets
Prompt: 14, Soul
Author's Note: This is a 50-ficlet AU series for Will/Hannibal. In this universe, the two of them are deeply in love with each other, though neither knows quite how to bring that love out into the open.
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.
***Will sat at his desk after all of the students had left the classroom, thinking of Hannibal with a smile on his face. So far, it had been a good day for him.
Jack hadn't called, which meant that there hadn't been a body that he had to go look at. That was always a good thing; there were days when he felt that he never wanted to see another dead body again. He didn't want to get into another killer's mind.
He was tired of it. Tired of his work in the field, tired of the responsibilities that were forced on him, tired of being seen as Jack's pet freak.
He wanted to leave all of that behind. He wanted to make a life with Hannibal.
Jack claimed that he was free to do that, but he knew that he wasn't. Not as long as he was working in the field as a consultant. He would always have the specter of what he did for a living hanging over him, and he would always be on call.
He wanted to leave it behind for good, even though he knew that Jack would object strenuously to that. He didn't want to lose Will and the notoriety he brought the team.
It was eating away at Will's soul.
Jack wanted to continue to use him to solve crimes, and to take the credit for it. And if there came a time when he could no longer do so, Jack would kick him to the curb.
That thought didn't really bother Will. He had ceased to care what Jack Crawford thought of him; Jack was just a user, like so many other people he'd met in law enforcement. He had known plenty of cops just like that when he was on the force in New Orleans.
He hadn't liked any of them. And he didn't like Jack.
He couldn't keep working in the field, not if he wanted his mind to remain intact. The longer he did this, the more he could feel himself separating from reality.
Hannibal kept him grounded, kept him in this world. But Will could sense that Jack wasn't happy about his relationship with Hannibal; he thought that Will shouldn't be seeing anyone who worked with the team, even though Hannibal wasn't technically his therapist.
Well, Jack could go to hell. He wasn't giving Hannibal up.
He really didn't care what Jack, or anyone else he worked with, thought about his relationship with Hannibal. They had no right to judge.
As long as the two of them were discreet, and didn't indulge in anything like embracing or kissing at crime scenes, or even holding hands, it was nobody's business.
Hannibal soothed his troubled soul. Hannibal was his refuge.
And he needed that refuge, needed it more than he could say. Every time he bent over a dead body, every time he forced himself to look into a killer's mind, to empathize with what a murderer had done, he lose a little piece of himself.
Hannibal restored him, made him feel whole again. Until they had found each other, no one else had been able to do that. He had been drowning, disappearing, slowly dying.
Hannibal had changed all that, in the blink of an eye.
His soul was soothed every time he looked at the man he loved, or even thought about him. It was as if Hannibal, even when he wasn't present, could pour oil on the troubled waters that roiled within Will and make everything better.
It was ridiculous for him to think that one person could do so much. But for him, Hannibal could. Hannibal was his saving grace, his light in the darkness.
Hannibal meant more to him than anyone else ever had, or ever would.
He wanted to spend the rest of his life with Hannibal. He wanted the two of them to grow old together, to be able to fall asleep with him every night and awaken next to him every morning.
Hannibal meant more to him than life itself. So if Jack, or anyone else, had any kind of problem with him loving Hannibal, then they would just have to get over it, or get out of his life. He wasn't going to put up with any kind of disapproval of his relationship.
He wasn't going to let anyone destroy his happiness.
Before Hannibal, he had barely been able to keep his head above water. Now, he felt that he could swim the oceans, and come back safely.
He would have Hannibal's arms to turn to for comfort and stability, whenever he needed them. He would have a love that he'd never had before to keep him grounded, a love that would sink into his heart and soul, a love that would never fade.
Hannibal's love was balm for his soul, and that was more than enough for him.
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