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Title: Careful What You Wish For
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
Author's Note: Sequel to "Ready."
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.
***He had wished for the confrontation, just to get it over with.
Now Will knew that he should have been more careful about what he wished for, because he definitely wasn't ready for this. Not in any way. He wasn't strong enough.
He had no words for this man; he just stood there, staring at Hannibal, unable to speak. It was as though his tongue had frozen, as if his breath was caught in his throat.
When he could finally speak, the only words that he could force out were the obvious ones that anyone would ask in such a situation. "How did you get into my house?" Will managed to whisper, his throat going dry. "If you hurt any of my dogs, you bastard --"
Hannibal raised a hand, and Will stopped in mid-sentence. "I didn't harm any of your pets, Will. You forget, they know me. They had no problem with letting me enter the house."
"Have you been upstairs all this time?" Will didn't want to ask, but he had to know. He had to know if he'd felt safe, when the worst danger of any he could face had been right above his head.
Hannibal nodded, a small smile curving his lips.
"Really, Will, you should make it harder for intruders to enter your home," he admonished the younger man. "It was quite easy for me to gain entrance, even with the dogs."
He knew that. Really, he did, Will told himself. But then, he'd never expected anyone who posed a threat to him to break into his home. He didn't know why; it was ridiculous to assume that with all the criminals he'd put in jail, not one of them would get out and try to harm him, or someone from their families.
He was discovering the folly of thinking that he was safe out here in the country now. He wasn't safe. Actually, he was more vulnerable than he would be if he lived around people.
There was no one here to help him. He was all alone.
No one would hear him if he cried out for help. No one would come to his rescue. He was trapped alone here with the most dangerous criminal he'd ever known.
His house was too far away from any others for him to hope that he could run for help, even if he could make it out of this room. Hannibal would catch him far too easily.
Will tried to weigh his options, even as he took a step backward. He could run for the front door, of course. But with his long legs and swift stride, he didn't doubt that Hannibal would be on him before he could throw the bolt and unlock the door to escape into the darkness outside.
And he wasn't altogether sure that he could grab his gun on the way to the door. It was right there, on the table, only a few feet from him -- but not in his line of escape.
He could lunge for the gun -- but again, Hannibal could easily stop him. The other man was bigger, probably stronger, and faster than a speeding bullet.
While WIll, for all his claims of strength, still wasn't at his best. Even at his best, Hannibal would be a match for him, and at the moment, he knew that he was completely overpowered if he decided to struggle. The only way that he would get out of this situation was by using his wits, not his strength.
"What do you want, Hannibal?" he asked, carefully keeping his voice level and even. "Why are you in my house? Why did you come looking for me when you know it's dangerous?"
Hannibal tilted his head to the side as though he was contemplating Will's words, that little smile still on his lips. When he spoke, he sounded almost amused.
"My dear Will, do you think that you are any sort of danger to me?"
Of course he didn't, but he couldn't let Hannibal know that. He had to make this man think that he was a match for his strength, or he'd never get out of this confrontation alive.
Will didn't doubt for a moment that Hannibal meant to kill him. He knew that the other man considered what he had done a horrible betrayal; he'd said as much during that last fateful meeting. He was sure that Hannibal was here to finish what he he had started then, and put an end to Will's existence.
Or did he have something else in mind, something more dark and sinister, something that would make Will suffer? He couldn't divine Hannibal's motives, not this time.
He couldn't get inside that twisted mind. He'd never really been able to.
"That's not an answer," he retorted, wondering just what Hannibal was trying to do. "You haven't told me why you're here. I assume it's not for a friendly visit."
Hannibal's eyes narrowed, making him look even more like the reptile that Will thought of him as being. At the moment, he looked like nothing so much as a snake preparing to strike.
"I am here to settle a score, Will," he finally said, his tone steady and even. "We still have a great deal of unfinished business between us, as I'm sure you realise. Did you think that I was merely going to slink away and not address that before I left for good?"
Of course he hadn't thought that, but he had thought he'd had more time to prepare for it. He had thought he would be ready for this confrontation.
But he wasn't, and he wondered if he ever would have been. This wasn't how he'd thought that he would see Hannibal again. This was nothing like anything he had imagined.
Will didn't know what to do or say. He was completely at a loss.
He took another step back, hoping that he could reach for his gun with one more step -- and with that one movement, Hannibal moved forward, more swiftly than Will had expected.
Within seconds, Hannibal had moved to where Will stood, one arm wrapping around the young man's waist. Will had turned to flee to the door, and his back was pressed against Hannibal's chest.
Will wanted to scream when he felt one hand move through his hair, almost in a caress. "Will, did you really think that you could escape from me?" Hannibal whispered, his lips against Will's ear. "That was silly of you. You belong to me. You always have. And tonight, I will prove it."
There was a cloth pressed against his mouth, over his nose, and for just a moment Will wondered why Hannibal had chosen to use chloroform, instead of some kind of injection.
As everything around him faded to black, Will struggled to stay conscious, but his senses faded, and he slumped back into Hannibal's arms with only one thought in his mind.
He really should have been much more careful about what he'd wished for.
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