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Title: Hero Needed
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
Prompt: #416, Life and death
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 huddled on the bed he'd been lying on for the past several hours, trying to hold back tears of frustration. He had no idea where he was, or who the man holding him prisoner could be. All of his attempts to find out anything about this person had come to failure.
When he'd come to, he'd found himself lying on this bed, naked, bound and gagged, not knowing where he was. At first, he'd thought it was a dream, but it had quickly become terrifyingly real.
Will squeezed his eyes closed, swallowing hard. The gag made it hard to swallow, even hard to breathe, but he couldn't let himself lose his voice. The moment it was removed from his mouth -- if it was; at this point he doubted that it would be -- he intended to scream.
But at the moment, the only sound he could make was a muffled whimper.
He hadn't even been able to scream when he was being violated; he'd had to suffer through it in relative silence as his attacker had whispered in his ear. Will had tried to push the things he'd said out of his mind, but some of them still stuck there.
He was going to die if someone didn't find him. He'd been told over and over again that these would be his last few hours, that death was inevitable. Each time the words had poured into his mind, his terror had escalated, until he was almost paralyzed with fear.
He didn't want to die. He didn't want this to be his ignominious end, trapped here with a rapist and a killer having his way with him. This wasn't how he wanted to go out.
But no one knew who his abductor was, or where he was being held. He didn't doubt that Hannibal had seen what had happened, but Hannibal had no way to find him. No one did. He was helpless to help himself, and no one else could help him either.
Will tugged ineffectually at the ropes that bound his wrists behind his back; it was just as useless to struggle now as it had been when he'd first awakened and found himself here. The bonds were cruelly tight, cutting into his flesh until his hands were numb.
He was sure that his wrists were wet with blood, even though he couldn't see them.
Would he bleed to death here, his life seeping into the sheets of the bed he was chained to and turning them red? No, that was ridiculous. He couldn't see any evidence that he was bleeding; there were no red stains on the white sheets beneath him.
If only he had his clothes, but his captor hadn't had the decency to let him retain his modesty. There was no need for it, really, but he'd feel better with some clothes on.
He jerked against the chain around one ankle, knowing that doing so was just as useless as struggling to free his hands. There was no way that his meager strength could break a chain; he was trapped here, unable to escape, at the mercy of his captor.
The man had left after the last time he'd taken Will, leaving him lying here with those last whispered words ringing in his ears. "You are mine, Will. Mine. Lecter will find that out eventually, and he'll live with that knowledge for the rest of his miserable life."
Where was Hannibal now? Was this monster taunting him with clues as to where Will was, knowing that even if Hannibal managed to find him it would be too late?
Will swallowed hard, closing his eyes, trying to push that thought out of his mind. No. He wasn't going to die here. If anyone was smart enough to figure out where he was and come to his rescue, it was Hannibal. If he had any clues at all, he would know where to go.
But that could mean that he'd be walking into a trap that could take his life.
He didn't want Hannibal to die trying to save him. He didn't want to die, either, but he couldn't even being to conceive of a world, a life, without Hannibal in it. If the other man died trying to protect him, and he somehow managed to survive, he would never forgive himself.
He wanted to think of Hannibal as being invincible, as being somehow invulnerable to death. But that wasn't so; Hannibal was only a man, albeit an extraordinary one. He could be killed; he wasn't the arbiter of life and death. He didn't have that kind of power.
Hannibal might find out where he was and come to rescue him, but he could be too late. He might find nothing here but Will's dead body, his killer long since vanished.
A shiver went through Will's body at the thought; he didn't want to contemplate his own death, even though he knew that death was closer to him now than it had ever been. He had no way out, no way to defend or protect himself, and no way of knowing if anyone would be able to save him.
He tried to ignore the aches of his body; thinking about how miserable he was and what had been done to him wouldn't do him any good. He had tried to close his mind and send his thoughts somewhere else while he was being violated; that was the only way to live through it.
if he hadn't been able to do that, then he would have been a screaming, pleading mess by the time it was over. The second time hadn't been any better, nor the third. After that, he'd lost count of how many times he'd been raped; he didn't want to think about it.
If he did, then he would lose all hope.
What was Hannibal going to think of him now, if he lived through this? Would he turn his back on Will, thinking that he was damaged goods? Would their relationship be over forever?
He didn't want to think that Hannibal would be like that, but he knew his lover well. There were some things that Hannibal wouldn't deal well with, and being presented with something that he considered substandard was one of them.
Hannibal only wanted the best. And even if he had thought that Will fell into that category at one time, that certainly wouldn't be the case any more. Their relationship probably wouldn't survive this, Will thought, a sob rising in his throat. It would be over before it had really started.
Why did that matter so much to him? If he made it through this situation, he should consider himself lucky to still be alive. It shouldn't matter that a relationship he hadn't asked for and hadn't expected to happen would more than likely fall by the wayside.
He had to concentrate on formulating some plan to get out of here; he couldn't simply lie here and wait to be violated again. He had to take the power of life and death into his own hands.
He couldn't let the man who had kidnapped and raped him have power over his life. Even if it was his destiny to die here, he had to die on his own terms; he couldn't let this monster have the satisfaction of the last of his dignity and pride away from him.
If he was going to die here, then he would go down fighting.
That thought should have given him hope, but it didn't. All he could see in his mind's eye was himself being violated again -- and then murdered like a wounded animal after it was over. He didn't want to die like that. He didn't want to leave this world as a helpless victim.
Will's head jerked up at the sound of a key in the lock of the door; his captor entered the room, closing the door behind him and turning to contemplate his captive. Will wanted to huddle into the wall, to make himself invisible. The way this man looked at him was frightening.
"Your boyfriend is coming to save you," the man said, smiling as he leaned against the door. "And I'll be waiting for him. He's going to watch you die, and that's going to break him. Completely. He's going to die knowing that he didn't save your life."
Will wanted to scream, to negate the words that he was hearing, to block them out. Instead, all he could do was swallow around the gag in his mouth; he didn't meet the man's gaze, refusing to let him see the fear that he knew would be obvious in his eyes.
The man stepped closer to the bed, reaching out to take Will's chin in his hand and jerk his face upward until their eyes met, their gazes locking.
Will struggled to free himself from that bruising grip on his chin, but he couldn't. All he could was stare into the eyes of a madman, a person who intended to destroy him, to destroy everything he held dear. He couldn't let that happen. He had to stop this. Somehow.
But there was no way to stop it. He was helpless to do anything.
This man held the power of life and death over both him and Hannibal. His lover would be walking into a trap; Will had no doubt of that. But at least he would see Hannibal one last time before he died -- and if there was any kind of justice, they would be together in some other life.
"I'm going to have one more time before he gets here," the man whispered, his lips curving into a smile. "Just so he'll be able to see that I fucked you. He'll know that you died feeling me inside you the last time you got fucked, and not him. That's going to kill him."
Will doubted that such knowledge would break Hannibal; he was sure that it would only make his lover angry. Angry enough to find a way to save them both? He could only hope so.
This man didn't know Hannibal at all. And therein lay his hope, Will told himself. If this man could misjudge Hannibal, if he didn't plan for all contingencies, then he might be able to get out this alive -- and Hannibal would, too. As well as Hannibal being the hero of the day.
Right now, he needed a hero. Badly.
Would Hannibal be that hero? Only time would tell, really. There was no way to know here and now if things would turn around, if the situation would change. He could do nothing to effect that change; Hannibal was now the only one who could save the day.
All he could do was hope. Hope that Hannibal would come here prepared to deal with this deranged monster who had kidnapped him, and hope that he would be able to get the upper hand. Then hope that if things worked out for the best, Hannibal wouldn't turn away from him.
He had no recourse but to endure whatever was still to come, and to keep that hope alive within himself. He had to let that hope carry him through; it was the only way that he would be able to survive and still keep his sanity. He had to hold on to that hope with everything he had.
Will closed his eyes as his captor's hands moved down his body, turning him over onto his stomach. He knew what was coming, and he only hoped that he would be able to endure it.
If there had ever been a time when a hero was needed, it was now.
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