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Title: Parting the Curtains
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
Fandom: Hannibal
Rating: PG-13
Table: 1drabble
Prompt: 1, Clouds
Author's Note: Sequel to "Windows of His Mind."
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.***
The curtains were starting to part, slowly but surely.
Will had dreamed again after he'd fallen asleep last night, and this time, the attack had unfolded itself in front of him, all in slow-motion replay.
It was as though he'd been outside of himself, watching a home movie that he was starring in. He had seen the man-stag attack him, and he'd whirled around in slow motion, a flash of recognition crossing his startled mind before his assailant's identity was once again shrouded.
But those few seconds of clarity gave him hope. He was absolutely sure he would eventually know who had done this -- it would just take some more time.
The clouds were starting to dissipate. Soon, they'd be completely gone.
Will knew that he had to give himself time; he couldn't expect to have a revelation all of a sudden, as though a blinding light had suddenly struck him.
Patience wasn't one of his better qualities, but he no choice other than to try to be as patient as he could, and wait for those clouds to drift away, the curtains to open, and his memory of that night to finally come clear. He knew that it would, if he just gave it some time.
He took a deep breath, closing his eyes, then opening them after a few moments and staring down into his coffee cup, contemplating the swirls of liquid.
All he wanted was for those curtains to be pulled back, to let the light in, to know who had done this so he could find them and put it all behind him.
But something told him that it wasn't going to be that easy. For some reason, the thought of finally being able to confront the person who had caused him so many sleepless nights, his attacker, gave him a feeling of dread that was out of proportion to the situation.
What if it was someone he knew? What if it was someone who had some sort of grudge against him, one that he'd never known about, never been aware of?
At least he was still alive, he told himself. That was something.
With each flash of returning memory, he knew that he was getting closer to discovering who had done this. And that feeling of dread grew commensurately stronger.
Did he really want to now who it was? Will asked himself. Did he really want to confront them, if it was someone he knew? Or would it make him feel better to make this episode in his life a closed book, to put it all behind him once and for all, to turn his back on the entire incident?
Of course it would, he thought, his inner voice firm and strong. He lifted his cup and drained the last of his coffee, then set it down on the table with a thunk.
He was going to put an end to this. It wouldn't be long now.***
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