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Title: Emotional Outlet
Pairing: Will Graham/Sherlock Holmes
Table: 9, 50ficlets
Prompt: 32, Emotions
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 hesitated before he entered the living room; Sherlock was sitting on the couch with a book in his hands, and he didn't know if his boyfriend was concentrating.
But he got the answer to that within just a few moments, when Sherlock looked up, smiled at him, and closed the book. He held out a hand to Will, and the look on his face couldn't be described as anything but welcoming. He looked happy to see Will there.
"Do you like the room?" he asked softly as Will approached him and took his hand before sitting down on the couch next to him. "I hope it's large enough for you."
"It's terrific," Will said softly, his gaze meeting Sherlock's.
He didn't know just ho how to put into words everything that he felt about what Sherlock was doing for him. It all suddenly seemed too much to take in all at once.
His emotions were all over the map; a part of him felt as though he was going to burst into tears, and yet another part wanted to smile and embrace Sherlock with profuse exclamations of thanks. Will didn't know which part was going to win out in the end.
Instead, he simply sat down on the couch, feeling a little lost and wondering just what he should say. How could he begin to put all of his emotions into words?
"Is something wrong, Will?" Sherlock's voice was very soft and gentle; that voice was what undid him. Just the sound of the worry and tenderness in those few words, the obvious care that Sherlock had for him -- it all came through, and made him break down.
Will didn't know what made the tears come, but suddenly, he was sobbing, his head in his hands, unable to stop crying and not knowing how to.
First Sherlock's hand was on his shoulder, then he was in the other man's arms.
All he could do was lean against Sherlock, the tears not stopping. Will didn't know why he was crying; he just .... was. And for some reason, it felt good.
When he could finally control his tears, he sniffled and sat up, gratefully taking the tissues that Sherlock silently handed him. He noticed that the other man's arm was still around his waist; Sherlock wasn't letting him go, and he wasn't pulling away.
"I'm s-sorry," he managed to say, feeling more than a little mortified. "I didn't mean to do that."
"It's quite all right," Sherlock said softly, raising a hand to wipe at a few more tears that escaped from the corners of Will's eyes. "You've been under a lot of stress, Will."
"I don't think I ever let myself cry about everything that was happening in Wolf Trap," Will admitted, knowing in his heart that he'd found the reason for his tears.
That was why he was crying. It had to be.
His emotions were everywhere, getting the best of him. He'd tried his best to contain them, to keep them under wraps, but he hadn't been able to. And it was no wonder, either. He'd been through a lot. Most people wouldn't have been able to deal with all the strain he'd been under.
Yet somehow, he had managed to do it -- and he had come out on top. He'd managed to get through it all, and emerge into the light at the end of the tunnel.
A very long, very dark tunnel.
He'd navigated through it, with Sherlock's help. Without the man sitting here beside him, he'd still be caught in that web, trapped in that tunnel, with no way out.
Without Sherlock, he would still be in prison. He would probably have been tried and given the death penalty, and he would have had to die with Hannibal watching and smiling, laughing at how he'd managed to frame an innocent man for his own heinous crimes.
But Sherlock had saved him from that. Sherlock had come to his rescue, and taken him away to a new life, a life that he knew would be a happy one.
Just the thought of what he'd so narrowly escape made the tears well to the surface again, tears of pain and fear that he'd held back for so long when he was living through that horrific time. Tears that he'd never let himself shed, for fear of giving in to his fears.
He'd thought that if he showed any kind of weakness, that if he let his emotions take over, that would be the end of him. And he'd had to be strong.
Now, he could let those emotions out. Finally.
Where would be be without Sherlock? He didn't even want to think about that. He just wanted to snuggle into his boyfriend's arms, and be thankful that he was there.
It was good to have an emotional outlet, Will told himself as he rested his head on Sherlock's shoulder. It was even better to have someone who understood, someone who wouldn't ridicule him for his emotions, and who would love him in spite of them.
It was good to be here, with Sherlock, safe in his arms. There was nowhere else that he wanted to be, no other place where he truly belonged.
This was it for him. This was where he had landed when he had finally come out of that long, dark tunnel -- and this was where he intended to stay.
There was no place else for him. He'd finally found his home, the only one he would ever want.
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