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Title: How He Truly Feels
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
Fandom: Hannibal
Rating: PG-13
Author's Note: Sequel to "One Blade Shy of A Sharp Edge."
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.


This was going to drive him insane.

If he wasn't already more than a little crazy, that is, Will thought grimly as he drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair, waiting for Hannibal to come back into the room.

The other man had excused himself for a few moments; Will assumed that he was going to the bathroom, which was fine with him. It gave him some time to think.

How much longer could he keep up this charade? Not much longer, he told himself, wondering if tonight would be the night that he would slip up and show his contempt for Hannibal to the other man's face. He couldn't help feeling that it would happen sooner or later.

He had to get some kind of confession out of Hannibal, and he had to do it soon .He was running out of time; the FBI wouldn't let him keep playing this cat-and-mouse game forever.

They expected results. They expected him to bring Hannibal in, to prove that his accusations against his former friend were correct. So far, he hadn't given them what they wanted.

And his accusations wouldn't hold up in a court of law.

Not if he couldn't prove them. So he had to keep this up for at least a little while longer -- and somehow, he had to get Hannibal to trust him enough to confess something.

It was getting harder and harder for him to keep this up, to act friendly to a man he hated, to act as though he trusted Hannibal and was falling under the spell of his charm and charisma.

Will felt a little as though he was lying down on the ground and making snow angels with the enemy, pretending to a camaraderie and friendship that he didn't feel with someone that he instinctively recoiled from. But he had to do this if he wanted to get any kind of justice.

If he didn't do this, then he would never get any proof that Hannibal was indeed the Chesapeake Ripper. He was lucky that he was being given this chance to find that proof.

Jack believed him, and he was trying to do all that he could to ensure that Will had time to collect his proof. But even Jack couldn't keep the FBI at bay forever.

He was going to have to push things a little more, to bring this game to an end as quickly as he could. It felt as though everything was coming to a head soon; he felt that it would only take a little more pushing for Hannibal to finally say the words he needed to hear.

All he had to hear from this monster was some kind of confession to what he was, to just one of the murders he had committed, just one of the atrocities he'd set into motion.

Once he had that, he wouldn't have to pretend to a friendship he didn't feel. He could show his loathing of Hannibal in every way, let this hideous abomination know how he truly felt.

That would be a red-letter day, Will thought with a grim smile.

He had long since tired of making snow angels with the enemy; he was tired of trying to put on this masquerade, tired of wearing a mask that was growing more uncomfortable every day.

Will longed to be able to rip that mask off, to show how he truly felt and be done with this whole nasty business. He wanted to have Hannibal behind bars, to put all of this in the past.

Hopefully, that would happen soon, he told himself. He looked down at his hands, realizing that he was clutching the chair arms so hard that his knuckles were white. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and forcing himself to relax. He couldn't afford to let Hannibal know how tense he was.

He could hear footsteps in the hallway; the other man would be back in just a few seconds, and he had to appear calm and composed, as though nothing was wrong.

How much longer could he keep this up? Will asked himself. As long as he had to, was the answer. He had no other choice, not if he wanted to achieve his goal.

He was getting closer to that goal every day. Just a little while longer ....

He'd try to push a little more tonight, to trick Hannibal into saying what he needed to hear. If he couldn't do it tonight, then he'd manage it in their next sessions.

Then, when he had the proof that he needed, he could turn his back, wash his hands of Hannibal, and walk away. The day when he would be able to do that couldn't come soon enough.