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Title: Conquering Hero
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
Fandom: Hannibal
Rating: PG-13
Table: writers_choice
Prompt: #199, Save
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 slammed the phone on his desk down, holding back the curses that rose to his lips. He should have known that Jack Crawford and the FBI were the most useless when they were needed the most. They weren't getting anywhere at all.

It had been nearly forty-eight hours since Will had been kidnapped, and they had no leads whatsoever on who could have taken him, or where he was.

Forty-eight hours, and there was no telling what could have happened to Will, of what that bastard might be doing to him even at this very moment. Hannibal had never felt so helpless; his fists curled in impotent fury, his mind racing through possibilities.

if this man's intent had been to kidnap Will, then maybe he would simply hold the young man captive and demand a ridiculously expensive ransom for him. Hannibal could pay that; it would be no problem. He would pay any amount of money to have Will back safely.

Since when had Will Graham come to mean so much to him?

If it was anyone else who had been abducted, he would express the proper amount of concern, but he would most definitely not be willing to go out of his way to secure their safe release. But with Will's life hanging in the balance, he felt unsettled, almost frantic.

Losing Will was not an option. No one was going to take what he considered his possessions away from him -- and Will Graham belonged to him. He would somehow find the man who had taken Will and make him pay for such a transgression.

But first, he had to find out where Will had been taken -- and without a clue as to where that might be, he was effectively powerless. He had nowhere to begin.

He needed for Will's abductor to somehow reach out to him, for the man to want him to know what he had done with Will. Hannibal was almost positive that this man did indeed want him to know what was going on -- which was exactly the reason he had taken Will.

It was obvious that Will's captor wanted him -- but there was also an underlying reason for why he had taken Will so boldly, when he knew that Hannibal would be witness to the abduction. He had wanted Hannibal to know that he had been able to take what wasn't his.

Will's kidnapping had been a deliberate gesture, a throwing down of the gauntlet.

Hannibal had no doubt that this man had seen everything that he and Will had done -- if not with his own eyes, then he had guessed what was happening, and had let himself imagine the two of them together. He might even have been able to see some encounters.

After all, he hadn't exactly been careful about pulling the curtains closed. He couldn't remember if they had been open when he had taken Will over the desk in the office, and on the couch. He was almost certain that the curtains in the bedroom hadn't been closed.

And when he had painted that erotic picture of Will .... there was no way to be certain, but he was almost sure that the curtains had been opened that night.

Yes, there had been plenty of chances for Will's stalker to see how their relationship had progressed. It had probably fanned the flames of the man's anger -- he obviously wanted Will for himself in the physical sense, but there was something more, something deeper.

There was no doubt that this man considered himself to be in competition with Hannibal for Will's affections. And though Will would never turn away from him and give himself to another -- Hannibal was positive of that -- he wasn't in a position now where he would have free will.

Will was in more danger than either of them had thought would come to him. And it seemed that Hannibal might now be the only person who could save him from that danger, the only one who might have the power to find his abductor and bring him out of there safely.

But where could he begin? He needed a starting point, some clue as to Will's whereabouts.

Hannibal's head jerked up when the doorbell rang; his gaze automatically went to the clock, checking the time, even though he had canceled all of his appointments for the past two days. He didn't want anyone here if he received some word about Will.

He had no idea who could be there; he didn't think that any of his patients would have forgotten that their sessions had been canceled, but that was always a possibility. Sighing, he got to his feet and went to the door, pulling it open and preparing to speak to whoever was there.

No one was at the door. There was nothing but an empty street outside; it didn't look as though anyone had been there in a while. Certainly no one had rung the bell.

No, he had not been imagining things, Hannibal told himself firmly. He had heard the doorbell ring; there had been someone here. Apparently, they had decided to ring the bell and had then left, possibly thinking that he wasn't at home.

But that made no sense; he hadn't taken very long to answer the door. Whoever had been there might be a child playing a prank, but he didn't think so. Something about this felt ominous; there was a certain electricity in the air, a sense of danger that he couldn't quite place.

When he turned his head, he saw it. An envelope that had been taped to the door. He hadn't noticed it when he had opened the door; he hadn't been looking in that direction. But it was obviously meant for him -- and it was unmarked. He had no doubt as to who it was from.

Ripping the envelope away, he closed the door and leaned against it for a moment.

Why should he feel this peculiar sense of relief at knowing that Will's captor had gotten in touch with him? this didn't mean that Will was safe. He was probably in greater danger than ever -- and Hannibal would doubtless be expected to walk into danger himself.

He tore the envelope open, annoyed to find that his hands were trembling. He didn't want to believe that he could be so shaken by a communication that he'd been hoping to receive.

The note was brief and to the point:

If you want to see Will Graham alive again, meet me in the basement of 2415 Curzon Street at midnight. If you are not there by the time fixed, the next you see Graham will be in a body bag.

Nothing more than that. The words were concise, almost radiating a coldness that Hannibal could feel through the paper. But they were only words; those words couldn't express any feeling. The could engender it, but the black ink on white paper couldn't convey the writer's emotions.

His own emotions were swirling in his mind, racing through his body. It was as though receiving this missive had released endorphins within him; all he could think of now was how long it would be until midnight, and all of the things he would have to do in preparation to meet this monster.

Of course this man was a monster. There was no telling what he had done to Will, but Hannibal felt grateful to know that his young lover was still alive. At least, he would have to assume that Will still lived, unless this man was lying to him simply to bait a trap.

He had no idea what to expect, but he knew that he had to be sure that he could defend himself -- and Will as well, if that need arose.

Though Hannibal didn't usually like guns, he kept a few, of course. He much preferred to use his own agility, strength, and cunning against any opponents that might come his way, but this wasn't the time to prove his own wiliness in that way. A gun would be much more effective.

A knife would be too unwieldy -- though it would, at a better time, have been his weapon of choice. But this wasn't a time when he could rely on his own expertise with a knife. This man could very well use Will as a human shield -- and he wouldn't take any chances with a knife.

No, it would have to be a gun. He knew exactly which one he would use.

It might not be his weapon of choice, but it didn't seem as though he had much of a choice in this, not if he wanted to charge in and play the hero. And that was what had been thrust upon him. He would come to Will's rescue. He was the only one who had the opportunity to do so.

Jack Crawford obviously couldn't -- or wouldn't -- do anything. And Hannibal wasn't going to go to him with this information. He didn't trust Jack enough.

Jack would hesitate, put off going to Will's rescue until he had more information -- and that could prove fatal for Will. It wasn't that Jack was afraid to simply jump in with both feet before looking both ways -- it was that he didn't seem to think enough of Will to throw caution to the winds.

Well, he certainly thought enough of Will to do just that, Hannibal told himself. He wasn't going to hesitate. He was going to jump right in, and worry about the consequences later. He was going to rescue his lover, no matter that it might be dangerous for them both.

He would save Will, no matter what it might take.

The thought of being a conquering hero, of being Will's savoir, almost made him smile. He would bind Will even more closely to him by doing this; there was no way that Will's affections could waver after the man who was his lover had also saved his life.

He would do all the could to protect Will -- and himself as well. No one could take what belonged to him and not have to face his wrath. The monster who had dared to kidnap will would discover that, much to his chagrin. He would be summarily dealt with.

Will would be brought home safely; he would make sure of that. He might be more damaged than he already was, especially in the physical sense, but Hannibal would deal with that when the time came. Will might be even more broken, but he wouldn't be completely beyond repair.

Taking a deep breath, he stuffed the note into his pocket, heading upstairs to the room where he kept some of his more esoteric collections. He would find the gun he intended to use there.

And he would put it to good use dispatching the man who had dared to take what was his.