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Title: Hands
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
Fandom: Hannibal
Rating: PG-13
Author's Note: Sequel to "Signs of Change."
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 sat on the couch in his living room, his head in his hands, pondering.

Did wanting Hannibal dead mean that he was turning into the killer that Hannibal wanted him to become? Was that change already so far along that it couldn't be stopped?

That was the last thing he wanted. He didn't want to become like Hannibal; he didn't want to think that he had any resemblance to such a horrific monster. He wasn't the kind of person who enjoyed taking life, or wanted to. He would never be what Hannibal intended.

Just the idea of becoming like Hannibal was terrifying. The thought of being a killer, of actually enjoying the taking of innocent lives, made him feel sick.

That was what Hannibal had wanted for him all along.

Well, he wasn't going to accept that, and he wasn't going to let it happen. He wouldn't knuckle under to what Hannibal wanted. He wouldn't play that game.

Will straightened up, a scowl on his features. It didn't matter what Hannibal might want for him; Hannibal had no say in who he was, or what he became. Hannibal was not his master, nor his teacher. He might want to be those things, but that would never come to pass.

Hannibal would never have what he wanted from Will Graham. He would never be an acolyte for such a hideous monster, or be complicit in his crimes.

Will held his hands out in front of him, studying them. He knew that Hannibal had killed some of his victims with his bare hands; could he ever do that?

No. He couldn't, and he knew it. Yes, he had taken a life before -- but that life hadn't been one worth saving. Garrett Jacob Hobbs had been a murderer, just like Hannibal; a killer of young girls. And he would have killed his own daughter.

Will closed his eyes again at that thought. His daughter, who Hannibal had later killed. And Will had taken the blame for that, until he'd been proven innocent.

He'd spent enough time suffering for Hannibal's crimes.

No more, Will vowed, his hands clenching into fists. No longer would he be manipulated by Hannibal Lecter. Those days were over; he was older and wiser now.

He was the one on the outside, a free man, and Hannibal was behind bars. He was where he belonged; he would never taste freedom again. Will was only sorry that it had taken so long for people to realize just what Hannibal was, and to stop his evil from continuing.

Will took one deep breath, then another, calming himself. He would never be what had Hannibal had wanted him to become. Never. Not even if Hannibal was still free.

Even without all the pieces of himself in the right places, he was sure of that.