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Title: Created Anew
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
Table: Otherwordly Challenge, tv_universe
Prompt: Novitious - Created anew or newly invented.
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 would never be able to take credit for creating him.
Will flexed his hands in front of him, wishing that he could cast aside the images of what those hands were capable of doing if he let himself go.
Of course he'd killed Randall Tier. The bastard had come after him, trying to kill him. He had defended his own life; anyone would have done the same. The man had harmed one of his dogs, and then come into his home with the intention of harming him.
He'd been sent by Hannibal, of course, but that didn't make Tier any less of a killer. And he didn't regret what he had done with the man's body, either.
Tier had deserved just what he'd gotten.
But at the same time, Will couldn't help feeling repulsed by his own actions. Yes, what he'd done had been necessary, in order to make Hannibal believe that he was falling under a spell, that he was transformed by all that Hannibal had done to him.
He hadn't enjoyed doing what he'd had to do; he had done it out of necessity, out of a deep-seated need to trap Hannibal, to beat him at his own game.
He and Jack were treading a thin line, playing a dangerous game, and they both knew it. If Hannibal ever came to a realization of what they were doing, he would try to kill them both. And the man had far too much practice at killing, Will thought with a grimace.
He was too good at this, too good at something that Will had no experience in. He might see into the minds of killers, but he had never been one himself.
Hannibal thought that because he could see into the minds of murderers, because he had looked into the faces of pure evil so many times, that he would easily slip into that evil himself, that he would let it take him over and welcome it in.
But he wouldn't. He could never do that. He wasn't a killer.
He had to make Hannibal believe that he was, but that obviously wasn't going to be an easy thing to do. He would have to be on his guard at all times; if he let his mask slip even the slightest bit, Hannibal would see into him and know that this was all a lie.
He wasn't being transformed. He wasn't being created anew in Hannibal's image. He was simply setting a trap to catch a killer.
That trap had been carefully baited, with himself as the prize. Will knew how dangerous the path was now treading could be; he knew that he had to be wary every moment of every day, that he had to constantly look around him to be sure that he wasn't putting a foot wrong.
Being the bait in his own trap terrified him.
Will was sure that he wouldn't give in to Hannibal's blandishments; that wasn't what frightened him. He'd never be like Hannibal, not in a million years.
What frightened him was the knowledge that Hannibal was good at looking into people, at seeing through their subterfuge. And Hannibal already knew him well, so there was a good chance that he could read what was happening, and hide that knowledge from Will.
He took one deep breath, then another. As far as he could tell, Hannibal hadn't been able to do that. The trap was closing around him, just as Will and Jack had planned.
But how could he know that Hannibal didn't suspect anything? He couldn't fish for answers; if he did, that would rouse Hannibal's suspicions.
He had to keep playing this game as best he could, even though he felt that he was groping his way along in the dark, trying to balance carefully on a tightrope that, with one single wrong move, could overbalance under him and send him plummeting into a deep, dark abyss.
One that he might never be able to climb out of. If he wasn't careful, he could end up being just another one in the long line of Hannibal Lecter's victims.
Hannibal already thought he was one. Hannibal thought he was transformed.
He had to make sure that Hannibal kept thinking that, had to make that monster believe that he had been created anew, that he was rising like the proverbial phoenix from the ashes. He had to make Hannibal believe that he had turned ot the dark side.
He never would, of course. He knew that. Jack knew that. But Hannibal didn't know that, and that was the strength of their plan to trap him.
Hannibal thought that the darkness could win anyone over. He understood that most people had a balance of light and dark within them, and he was so sure, so confident that he could turn that balance in Will, make the darkness come to the forefront.
He was so damn sure that he could mold Will into his own image.
His former friend saw him as a novitious image, something that could be shaped and molded to his own specifications, something that could be newly invented, created anew into what he wanted it to be. He didn't give Will credit for possessing his own mind.
And that was what would be his downfall, Will thought, a slight smile curving his lips. Hannibal thought that his wiles were irresistible -- but he was wrong about that.
He expected Will to come to him when he beckoned, to jump when he crooked a finger, to salivate at his feet like Pavlov's dog. Well, Hannibal Lecter would discover that he had severely underestimated Will Graham, Will told himself.
He was feeling stronger and more confident now; yes, he would have to be careful, but he and Jack would put more of their plan into motion, and they would win this battle.
Good would always triumph over evil, no matter what a monster like Hannibal might think. He and Jack had the power of right on their side; Hannibal had nothing but darkness, evasions and lies. He would lose, and Will intended for hm to lose big.
He would show Hannibal just what he was made of.
He was stronger than anyone gave him credit for, including Jack Crawford. He would resist the temptation that Hannibal presented, and turn away from it.
The temptation wasn't as strong as Hannibal thought it was. The thought of becoming like him, nothing more than a conscienceless killer, repulsed Will. But he couldn't let Hannibal know that. He had to be an actor, to make Hannibal think that he was giving in.
He had to make Hannibal think that he was the novitious object that he was expected to be, that he was being created anew, that he was becoming a new being.
It wouldn't be easy to do that, but somehow, he would manage it.
He would make Hannibal believe that he was descending into darkness. Will didn't know how he'd manage to do so, or if he was a good enough actor to pull it off.
But he would try his damnedest, he vowed. For Abigail, and for Beverly, and for all of the other innocent people who had died as a result of Hannibal Lecter's unrelenting evil. He would avenge them all by seeing their killer put behind bars for good.
He would be the one to put their killer in prison. Then, and only then, would he feel that he had been able to at least partly avenge all the wrongs that Hannibal had perpetrated.
Then, he would feel as though he'd been created anew.
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