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Title: Lifeblood
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
Fandom: Hannibal
Rating: PG-13
Table: 1drabble
Prompt: 29, Blood
Author's Note: Sequel to "Innocence Lost."
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.


Blood. So much blood. Pouring out him, staining the floor.

His lifeblood. It was spilling onto the wood, turning everything red. His fingers were red, his hands covered in the viscous liquid.

It smelled like copper. It was growing stronger, that scent, filling the air until Will was sure that he would choke on it. He couldn't breathe; he could feel himself slipping away. All he had to do was close his eyes and let the darkness take over. It would be easy. So easy.

No, he couldn't do that. His eyes snapped open again, and he tried to take a deep breath. He wasn't going to just lie here and die because Hannibal Lecter had decreed it.

That monster wasn't going to kill him.

He would live through this, live to fight another day. Even if all that he'd been living for had been taken from him, the rug pulled out from under his feet.

His gaze went to Abigail's body, the eyes mercifully closed. She wasn't staring at him. She wasn't blaming him for her final, ultimate death -- her death at Hannibal's hands, only moments after she had come back into Will's life, like a comet blazing across the night sky.

He'd thought she was dead before, that the monster had taken her away. But that hadn't been true .... only now, it was. This time, she was irretrievably lost.

As was he, if someone didn't come to the house quickly. Was anyone on their way? Had Jack called for help? Or was Jack dead, just as Abigail was?

Did anyone know that he was here, bleeding out on the floor, the red pool around him starting to spread? It might already be too late for anyone to save him, even if they did show up; he could feel himself slipping into darkness, into the arms of oblivion ....

Will's eyes snapped open, his breath catching in his throat, holding back a scream that he didn't dare to let out. He blinked, his eyes focusing on the lights above him.

He wasn't in Hannibal's house, dying, bleeding out in a darkened room.

He'd been rescued from that. He was in the hospital, recovering from Hannibal's attempt to kill him. He was alive, trying to put the shattered fragments of his life back together.

Will sighed, closing his eyes again, not wanting to look up at the lights. It would have been so much easier to let himself sink into that oblivion, not to fight any longer. He was tired of fighting. He was tired of trying to win against a monster who held all the cards.

But something deep within him protested at those words. He couldn't give up. He couldn't let his lifeblood drain from him, not if it meant Hannibal winning in the end.

He would recover. And in the end, he would be the victor in this game.