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Title: Nothing Comes Too Easily
Pairing: Will Graham/Everett Hobbs (Original Character)
Author's Note: Everett's face is Benedict Cumberbatch.
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the lovely Will Graham or Lee Fallon, unfortunately, just borrowing them for a while. Please do not sue.
***He couldn't begin to imagine what Everett had gone through.
Will's heart went out to the other man; he wished that there were some words of comfort he could offer, but he knew that there was nothing he could say.
Seeing the person you loved mutilated, knowing that they had been murdered and who did it, but having no one who was willing to pursue the person who had committed such a horrible crime -- it was unthinkable. If it had been him, he would have gone insane.
Well, the authorities had pursued Hannibal, Will told himself. They just hadn't been able to prove that it was him who had committed the crime.
And they hadn't believed that it was Hannibal, either, he told himself. As usual, the bastard had managed to protect himself, all the while killing indiscriminately, taking lives with the assurance that the cops wouldn't believe that he was the perpetrator.
Will's hands clenched into fists as he brought a picture of that smug, reptilian face to mind. He hated that snake, hated him with a vehemence that almost shocked him.
He wanted to see Hannibal suffer for all that he'd done.
Not just for killing people close to Will, but for all the crimes he'd committed against humanity. Hannibal wasn't human; he was a monster.
He deserved to be put behind bars, to lose his freedom for the rest of his life. For Hannibal, that would be a fate worse than death. Losing his reputation, having the world be repulsed by him, knowing that he was a killer, would bring him lower than he had ever been.
Of course, there would always be some misguided fools who would worship him, Will thought disgustedly. And that would more than likely keep him going.
That would feed his already monstrous ego, make him feel that he was of some kind of worth in this world when he wasn't. But Will knew that no matter what they did, no one would be able to keep those acolytes from worshiping at their hero's feet.
It was sick and perverted, but there would always be people who were twisted enough to worship killers. He sighed softly, wishing that he could push the thought away.
That wasn't what he needed to focus on right now.
He needed to try to think of a way that he and Everett could prove that it was Hannibal who had committed these crimes, that Hannibal was the Chesapeake Ripper.
And they needed to find out just why Hannibal had decided to provide the "evidence" that had made Will a free man. Will had no idea why it had been done, and it worried him. This meant that he was still squarely in Hannibal's sights, and that the mind games would continue.
He wasn't sure just how much longer he could deal with them. He was already starting to feel that he was coming apart at the seams, fraying around the edges.
He'd thought that he was going to go crazy when he was in jail; the only thing that had kept him holding on to his sanity was knowing that Everett was trying to get him out.
Everett had been all that he'd had to hold on to; if this man hadn't been there for him, he would have let himself sink into a depression that he might never have been able to come out of. That was what Hannibal had counted on -- bringing him to his lowest point.
Hannibal had wanted to break him down, to make him hit rock bottom, and then build him back up in his own image, to make him into what Hannibal wanted him to be.
Will clenched his fists again, anger flowing through him.
He wasn't going to give Hannibal the satisfaction of slinking away like some kind of criminal. He wasn't the one at fault here; Hannibal was.
He wouldn't let that bastard keep playing mind games with him. He would stand up to Hannibal in a way that he hadn't felt he was able to before, now that he had Everett by his side. He wasn't going to turn and run; he was going to stand and fight.
With Everett by his side, they could accomplish anything. The two of them would stand against Hannibal, and together, they would show the world what he was.
Will sighed softly, propping his chin in his hand with a frown. The first thing they had to do was to convince the FBI that Hannibal was indeed the Chesapeake Ripper; it would take a lot more than merely what he and Everett said to make a case against him.
There were too many ways that Everett's story could be refuted, even though Will believed him implicitly. They had to find more proof of Hannibal's guilt than what they had.
Which was obviously going to be much more easily said than done.
He had to concentrate on the fact that he was a free man, and that he wasn't going to be thrown back into prison. He had been exonerated and proven innocent.
Still, it bothered him that the evidence the lab had used to prove him innocent seemed to have been so conveniently placed, just like the so-called "evidence" that had damned him in the first place. He didn't doubt for one moment that it was Hannibal's work.
Jack might believe him, as well as the lab techs, but how did he prove it to anyone else? How did he make people believe that Hannibal Lecter was a monster?
Will didn't know how he would go about proving that fact, but he had Everett with him now -- and two heads were always better than one. Together, they would somehow manage to prove Hannibal's guilt, and they would get justice for all of his victims.
Just how they were going to achieve that objective was beyond him at the moment, but they would find a way. There was always a way.
They would put Hannibal behind bars, Will vowed. No matter what it might take.
Then the mind games would be at an end, and the two of them would know that they had done some good in the world, as well as finding closure for themselves.
Would it be easy? No. But nothing worth having ever came too easily, Will reminded himself. And at this point, he was more than prepared to undertake the fight of his life.
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