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Title: Disappear
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
Fandom: Hannibal
Rating: PG-13
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.


Will stood on the doorstep of Hannibal's house, staring at the wooden portal in front of him. Hannibal was in that house, somewhere on the other side of the door, and yet he couldn't quite bring himself to knock and move in the direction that he wanted to go in.

Why was he so hesitant? Why did he feel as though he would be stepping into danger if he crossed this line? Why were his senses screaming at him to turn and run?

This wasn't a mistake. This was what he wanted, what he'd wanted since he'd first met Hannibal. He wanted to tell this man how he felt, wanted to let his desires pour out. He had to do this; if he didn't, then he would explode.

He couldn't keep these desires bottled up any longer.

It was past time he told Hannibal how he felt -- though he wouldn't be surprised if the doctor had guessed it already. Hannibal was perceptive that way; there were times when he seemed to know how Will felt without one single word being said.

What if he didn't feel the same? Will wanted to push that thought to the back of his mind and refuse to even countenance it. But the question remained, big and bold and bright in the forefront of his thoughts, making him wonder if this was indeed a mistake.

What if Hannibal couldn't stand to be around him after he confessed those feelings? What if he was repulsed by them? That was a definite possibility, too. He might not outwardly show that repugnance, but Will would know if he felt it. He would </i>know</i>.

He would be able to sense it in the way that Hannibal looked at him, in the way that they spoke. It would be there, hanging between them, an elephant in the room.

He wasn't ashamed of wanting Hannibal; it didn't bother him that he was attracted to another man. But what if Hannibal couldn't accept that attraction, and didn't want to act on it? Will would be crushed, all of his desires going unfulfilled for the rest of his life.

If that happened, he'd never be able to face Hannibal again.

Maybe it would be best if he turned around and went back home. Maybe he should forget about the dreams he'd been having about Hannibal, the desires that were struggling to break free. Maybe he should spend the rest of his life trying to sublimate those desires, to ignore them.

Will closed his eyes tightly, shaking his head as though to dislodge that thought. No. He couldn't simply go back to where he'd been before he had met Hannibal, before the other man had become his psychiatrist. He couldn't take that many steps backward.

Okay, so maybe it was wrong for him to want to have an intimate physical relationship with the man who was his doctor. But people did that all the time, didn't they? It wasn't like he would be the first. He would just be joining a long line of people who'd done the same.

That is, if Hannibal wanted him, too. And he had no way of knowing just what the other man thought or felt. Hannibal kept his emotions close to the vest.

They had a friendship; neither of them could deny that. But Will wanted much more than a friendship, and he had no clue whatsoever to what Hannibal wanted. He wouldn't even hazard a guess -- though he thought that he'd seen desire flare in Hannibal's gaze more than once.

Hannibal wanted him. He had to believe that.

But what if he was wrong? He took a deep breath, not opening his eyes, trying to focus on that question. If the object of his desires didn't feel the same, what would he do? What were his choices? They seemed pretty limited; in fact, they didn't seem like choices at all.

He'd never be able to look Hannibal in the eye again; he'd be too embarrassed. He would have to start over again with a new psychiatrist, and that wouldn't be a help to him at all. The two of them already had too much of a past history; Hannibal knew too much about him.

So, he would have to keep seeing Hannibal on a professional level, and that would only make the wounds in his heart deeper every time they saw each other.

But if he turned away, if he tried to sublimate those desires, it would be just as bad -- and the wounds to his heart and soul would never have a chance to heal. They would just keep growing, digging deeper, eating away at him until they swallowed him whole.

Will took another deep breath before opening his eyes again.

He focused on the door in front of him, knowing that he had to lift his hand and knock. If he didn't, then he might as well not be here. Standing on Hannibal's doorstep arguing with himself wasn't getting him any closer to achieving his objective.

How could he look at himself in the mirror again if he didn't do this? He had to be brave enough to take the reins of his own future into his hands; if he wasn't, then he would despise himself forever. He would spend his life wondering about what might have been.

That wasn't acceptable. He had a hard enough time facing himself and his own abilities; the last thing he needed was a reason to despise himself. His sessions with Hannibal were all about trying to understand and accept what he could do; he didn't need to impede that progress.

Of course, he wasn't technically one of Hannibal's patients; what he called their "sessions" were simply two friends talking. Maybe that was why he had fallen so hard; maybe it had happened over time, as he'd opened up more and more to the enigmatic doctor.

Now, he didn't feel that he could keep a grasp on reality without those talks to anchor him. The more work he did for the FBI, the more unreal his world seemed to become.

He needed Hannibal to keep him grounded.

He needed the stability of those sessions, needed to know that there was at least one person in the world who understood him. As the world around him became progressively more surreal, he needed that lifeline to hold on to. If he didn't have it, he would .... disappear.

Without Hannibal to keep him grounded, the person he was would eventually get lost in the unreality that he had to deal with every day. He would slip into someone else's mindset -- and never be able to come out of it. He would be trapped there forever.

He didn't want that to happen. Which was why he needed more of a physical relationship with Hannibal, and not just the professional one they shared now.

Not only that, but he was in love with the other man, he told himself. He couldn't deny that fact; he'd tried to ignore it for a long time, but he was no longer able to push the truth out of his mind. He didn't just want Hannibal, he needed him. He loved him.

The thought brought a wry smile to his lips. Loving Hannibal was a scary proposition.

Now why would he think that? he asked himself with a frown. Loving someone shouldn't make him feel that he should tiptoe carefully across broken glass, that he should watch his back. He should be able to give himself to the person he loved fully and completely, with no hesitation.

Maybe he'd be able to do that -- if the person wasn't Hannibal Lecter. He didn't know why, but something told him that he was entering a dark and dangerous place.

Hannibal wouldn't let him disappear. He was sure of it. Hannibal would be his lifeline. He had to think in the positive sense, to throw himself into this with all of his heart and soul.

Will took another deep breath, then raised his hand and knocked.