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Title: Good Over Evil
Pairing: Will Graham/Sherlock Holmes
Table: 9, 50ficlets
Prompt: 17, Faith
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 slowly stripped off his suit, his movements slow. He felt tired, as though his limbs were weighed down and it was hard for him to move.
He should have known that Hannibal wouldn't leave him alone.
Of course, they couldn't be sure that it was Hannibal who was threatening them. Sherlock had enough enemies; it could be one of them.
But something told him that this was Hannibal. He could simply feel it, as though the other man had somehow telegraphed his presence to Will via his senses. Hannibal wanted him, and that monster was determined to have him.
He'd always known that there was something twisted about the so-called "friendship" he'd had with Hannibal at one time. This was proof of that convolution.
This wasn't friendship. This was a dark, twisted obsession.
It was as though Hannibal had some dark intent of taking him back to Wolf Trap, of bringing him back under some sort of control. Will shivered at the thought.
The only way that would happen was if he went back to Wolf Trap in a body bag -- and if Sherlock was gone. He didn't want to think of either possibility, though he was fairly sure that was at least part of what Hannibal had in mind for them.
He knew that Hannibal hadn't wanted him out of Wolf Trap, and that he certainly hadn't wanted Sherlock to be in Will's life. Hannibal had made that obvious.
But wasn't following them to their rented house in the country and taking potshots at him through a window going too far, even for Hannibal? Will considered that, then slowly shook hs head, closing his eyes with a soft sigh as he sat down on the edge of the bed.
No, it wasn't going too far. Hannibal would do anything to achieve an objective, once he had a goal in his mind. He would stop at nothing.
And Will knew that murder meant nothing to him.
He had known that from the first vision he'd had of Hannibal intubating him while he was in the midst of a seizure -- one of those seizures that Hannibal had induced.
It had become all too obvious to him that the man he'd considered to be a friend had been his worst enemy, using him as some sort of experiment for his own amusement. That still rankled; he hated the fact that he had been so blind, and had been used so shamelessly.
But he had gotten away from all of that, Will reminded himself. Thanks to Sherlock, he now had a new life, one that he didn't intend to turn his back on.
If Hannibal thought that he could come here and force back into a life of fear and degradation, then he had another think coming, Will told himself firmly.
There was no way that he was going to let Hannibal win another round. He might think that he was going to be the ultimate victor in their little game of cat and mouse, but Hannibal hadn't bargained on the fact that Will would have Sherlock's brilliance on his side.
Of course, Hannibal didn't think that anyone could defeat him. He had gotten away with his crimes for far too long; that success had made him much too cocky.
His hubris would be his downfall. Will and Sherlock would see to that.
Will's fists clenched at his sides; he closed his eyes, taking first one deep breath, then another. He needed to calm himself, needed to keep a clear head.
Most of all, he had to have faith in Sherlock, and in himself. He had to believe that together, the two of them could defeat Hannibal, could finally put that monster behind bars where he belonged. He had to believe that the two of them could achieve that goal.
Will squared his shoulders, taking another deep breath and feeling his courage firm within him. He was going to hold on to his faith.
Together, he and Sherlock were a formidable team -- personally as well as professionally. The two of them would see this through; they could do whatever they set out to accomplish, as long as they stuck together and had faith in each other and in their abilities.
Hannibal wasn't going to defeat them. They'd won over him before, hadn't they? He was here, not in jail, or in Wolf Trap. He was free of all that.
Hannibal had lost once, and he would lose again.
Maybe good didn't always triumph over evil, but this time it would, Will told himself firmly. This time, the evil that was Hannibal Lecter didn't stand a chance.
They would stand up to him, beat him back, and show him that his reign was over. They'd managed to do that once, but Hannibal probably felt that his coming here to London had been a sign that he was turning tail and running away. That wasn't the case.
He had come here to make a life for himself, a life with the man he loved. He wouldn't let a monster from his past take that new life away from him.
He had faith in himself, and in Sherlock. They would prevail in the end. He knew it.
What he needed now was to get a good night's sleep, and tomorrow, the two of them would be ready to tackle whatever Hannibal could throw at them.
Will sighed softly, rubbing his eyes as he got to his feet and pulled back the covers. He wanted to be with Sherlock tonight, not here in his own bed by himself.
And why shouldn't he be? With that thought in mind, Will went to the door, opening it and padding silently out into the hallway, his footsteps leading him to Sherlock's bedroom.
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