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Title: No Pity
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: gen
Fandom: Hannibal
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the lovely Will Graham or Jack Crawford, unfortunately, just borrowing them for a while. Please do not sue.

***


"Go away, Jack. Just go away."

Will turned his head away from the man who was standing by his hospital bed, feeling that if he looked at Jack any longer, he might very well throw up.

Which wouldn't be attractive at all, and would most definitely be counterproductive to his getting better and getting the hell out of here, which was all that he wanted to focus on at the moment.

Unfortunately, he was flat on his back in a hospital bed. Leaving wasn't an option.

But Jack didn't leave. Will might not be looking at him, but he heard no footsteps making their way over to the door and out of the room. He knew that the other man was still standing there, probably looking at him with that pitying expression on his face. Pity. That was one thing he didn't want.

He didn't want to be patronized, either. And that was one thing Jack was very good at doing. He was also good at talking Will into doing what he wanted, whatever the cost.

Will finally turned his head to look at Jack -- and sure enough, that pitying look was there. He felt a wave of anger sweep over him, a white-hot, scalding anger.

When he spoke, Jack's words were quiet. "I'm not going away, Will. We need you."

Will shook his head, the anger cresting and running over, spilling out into words. "Like hell you do. You just want me to take the fall for you. You want me to the be front line."

Jack looked startled, then he shook his head vehemently. "No, Will, it's not that. You know I never wanted to put you in danger. We just underestimated what Hannibal would do."

Will tried to sit up, almost yelling out his words. "Shut the fuck up. Jack. Just. Shut. The. Fuck. Up. You're a liar, a goddamned liar. You wanted me as the first line of defense because I'm your pet freak. Because I'm expendable. You expected me to take all the risks, do everything for you."

Those words were true. He knew it, and he knew that Jack knew it, too. But he also knew that Jack would never admit it. He would try to play the good guy right up to the end.

Will went on, the words falling like bombs into the still air. "You don't give a shit what happens to me, as long as you can catch Hannibal and add another feather to your cap. It's all about you."

To his surprise, Jack took a deep breath, then nodded and bowed his head.

"You're right," the other man said, his voice quiet. "I wanted to catch Hannibal. I still do. And at one time, I might have put you directly in the line of fire without thinking about it."

He went on, his voice gaining strength. "But I never intended for you to suffer the way you have, Will. I never wanted that to happen. And all I can say is that I'm sorry. I wish I could do more."

Will turned his face away from Jack again, sighing softly. "Just go away, Jack. I don't care if Hannibal is in Europe. I don't care what he's doing. It's your problem to figure out now. You can't count on my help any longer. I can't do it any more. I don't want to let him kill me. I want a life without him."

Jack nodded, and it was several long minutes before he spoke again. "But you know that as long as he's out there, you'll never be free of him. You'll always wonder when he'll turn up again."

Will closed his eyes, not wanting to admit that Jack's words were only the stark, bitter truth. He would never be free of Hannibal. Never. Not until that bastard was behind bars, where he belonged.

He had no choice. Not unless he wanted to spend his life looking over his shoulder.

What was he supposed to do? He had to throw his lot in with Jack and his crew. He couldn't track Hannibal down on his own. He needed their help to do it.

The FBI had a lot more contacts than he himself did. He could only go so far on his own before he'd come up against the proverbial brick wall. Then it would be all to easy for Hannibal to confront him.

No, he needed the power of the FBI behind him. He couldn't afford to cut himself loose from them yet. And if he was completely honest with himself, he knew that he wanted to catch Hannibal, no matter what it took. He wanted this threat out of his life. He wanted to be free.

And he sure as hell didn't want anyone to pity him.

Maybe he'd never be free. Maybe he'd never be able to get Hannibal out his head. His life had already been affected so much that he could never go back to the person he'd been before Hannibal.

But he was going to have a damn good try, he told himself. Wincing, he sat up in bed as much as he could, taking a deep breath, then clearing his threat before he spoke.

"Okay," he said, his voice steady, not shaking in the least. "Where do we start?"

***