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Title: Black Clouds
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
Table: Personal Challenge, 1drabble
Prompt: 1, Clouds
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.
***Somehow, the atmosphere in the room was considerably lighter with Hannibal here.
Hannibal sat down on Will's couch, making himself comfortable before he looked up at the younger man, a frown on his face and a question in his eyes.
He gestured for Will to sit down next to him; Will did so, resting his head back against the couch cushions and staring up at the ceiling, waiting for Hannibal to speak. He had no idea what his lover was going to ask; whatever it was, he would try to give an honest answer.
"Will, you can't let yourself sink into despondence over this."
Hannibal's voice was very quiet, very measured; he was obviously calm and collected. Will almost wanted to laugh at that; his own life was falling apart, or so it seemed, and yet Hannibal, who was his lover and the closest thing he had to a friend, didn't seem at all affected.
"I just ...." His voice trailed off; he wasn't certain of how to put his feelings into words. After a moment of silence, he continued, searching for words. "I feel like there are all these black clouds gathering around my life, just ready to unleash one hell of a storm."
Hannibal nodded, his demeanor still calm and cool. "Not an unusual reaction. You understand that whatever happens in the future with these treatments, it might affect your life in many ways."
"I don't want to lose who I am," Will whispered, the words sounding very small and lonely in the quiet of the room. "I don't want to lose what I do. That scares me."
He took a deep breath, then continued, his voice slightly shaky. "There have been times when I wanted it to go away, but now, I don't. I've started to realize that this .... empathy defines who I am. It lets me help people. I don't want that to stop."
"I don't believe that it will." Hannibal turned to face him, reaching out a hand to rest if on Will's knee. "Your empathy has been a part of you for a long time, long before the encephalitis happened. It will not disappear with the treatments. I'm sure of it."
Somehow, Hannibal always knew the right thing to say.
The storm clouds that had looked so black before suddenly seemed to be dissipating; the future didn't look as dark as it had before Hannibal had walked through that door. It was funny how just a few words from his lover could make everything turn around for him.
Hannibal's warm fingers were kneading his knee, sending a current of pleasure through his body. Will had no doubt as to where he and Hannibal were going to end up later.
In his bed. Exactly where he wanted them to be.
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