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Title: Naked Obsession
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
Author's Note: Sequel to "Far Too Convenient."
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.
***"I'm not the one. I swear I'm not."
The man's voice followed Will out of the room; he wanted to turn and assure their prisoner that he knew the man was telling the truth, and that he hadn't committed those murders.
But Jack had told him not to do so, and he was reluctantly following his boss' advice. He wasn't going to cut this guy any slack, even though he desperately wanted to.
He had talked to the man for nearly an hour, going around and around in circles, asking the same questions in different ways -- and he had never once gotten the impression that the person he was talking to was a killer. Not once. This wasn't the man they were looking for. He'd been set up.
Will believed that more than ever now. He had no reason to think otherwise; this man had given him no indication that he even knew who Will was.
The killer was obsessed with Will; he was murdering men who resembled the object of his obsession. He wouldn't have sat there and insisted that he didn't know who Will was.
No one was that good at dissembling, Will told himself wryly.
He got absolutely no impression at all that this man had the slightest clue who he was, or had ever seen him before. He had been framed, plain and simple.
It was wrong of them not to reassure him that he was only under investigation at the moment, and that he wouldn't have to be here for much longer. The guy was terrified enough as it was.
But if they told him that, it was possible that his demeanor would relax, and that would make it more than obvious that he wasn't scared and on edge any longer. If whoever was actually doing this was someone who was behind the scenes at the FBI, then they couldn't take that risk.
He and Jack didn't want anyone to know that they didn't believe this man was the one. For all intents and purposes, they had to make it seem as though they had caught the killer.
Will sighed softly as he turned a corner and headed for the outside of the building, wanting to get away from here. Being in the interrogation rooms always gave him a bad feeling.
He pushed open the front door, breathing in the crisp air and closing his eyes.
"Will." His eyes flew open when he heard that voice, the voice that could only belong to one person. He knew the accent, knew the intonation of those words.
"Hannibal. What are you doing here?" Will asked, knowing that the question was redundant even as he asked it. There was no question as to why Hannibal was here. He wanted to see the man who had supposedly killed people who looked like Will. He wanted to view this supposed murderer with his own eyes.
Should he tell Hannibal about their plan, apprise him of the fact that they didn't think they'd caught the real killer yet? No, he'd promised Jack that he wouldn't tell anyone.
If Jack wanted Hannibal to know, then he could do the telling. This was really Jack's investigation; Will felt that he wasn't in the position to be making any decisions.
After all, he was the victim here, as Jack had so assiduously pointed out to him. He was the one who was being stalked, the one who was the obsessive object of this killer. The thought made Will shudder; he didn't like to think about being in the crosshairs of a murderer's vision.
"Is he in there?" Hannibal asked, his voice very soft. "I can only assume that he is, or you wouldn't be here. And I believe that you have probably just come from seeing him."
Will nodded, wondering just how much he should tell Hannibal at this point.
"Yeah, he's in there," he finally answered, shaking his head. "But I couldn't get anything out of him. He insists thta he doesn't know who I am, but we know that isn't true."
Why didn't he want to tell Hannibal the truth? Why did he feel that doing so would only complicate matters further, and put him in even more danger than he was already in?
Why didn't he feel as though he could trust Hannibal? This man was his lover; he should be able to feel that he could put all of his trust in the person that he was sleeping with. But somehow, something held him back from telling Hannibal the entire truth about what he and Jack were planning to do.
The fewer people who knew that they didn't think this man was the killer, the better. Maybe that would allow them to flush out the real killer, and close this case for good.
Hannibal nodded, his brow furrowing. "I wanted to see the man, but I don't really need to. I suppose that I just wanted to set eyes on the person who has been causing you such trouble."
The person who is obsessed with you, his dark gaze seemed to say.
For a few unnerving moments, Will could swear that he saw that naked obsession on Hannibal's face, in his eyes. He wanted to take a step back from the other man, but he kept himself from doing so.
Trying to seem as though he was simply moving further down the steps, he backed away from Hannibal, shrugging. "If you want to see him, then do it. I don't think it'll do much good, though."
Hannibal glanced towards the doors, then nodded slowly, moving to where Will was now standing a couple of steps below him. "Let's go out to lunch, Will," he said, his voice very soft. "Since you have spent some time talking to this man, you can tell me what insights you've gleaned from him."
Will nodded, feeling trapped, but knowing that there was no way he could claim to be busy, or make excuses not to have lunch with Hannibal. He wasn't good at making up quick lies.
He would just have to be careful what he said, and be sure not to give Hannibal any inkling of what he and Jack were doing. That wasn't going to be easy.
Hannibal was always good at seeing through any smoke screen he tried to put up.
Why did he suddenly feel this way? Why did he feel that he couldn't let Hannibal into this part of his life? Hannibal was his lover; he should be privy to all of Will's secrets.
But somehow, he didn't feel that it was safe. He didn't know just why something in him warned him to back away, but he wasn't going to ignore that little voice in the back of his mind that told him to keep his secrets, and that Hannibal didn't need to know everything that was going on.
He let his boyfriend take his hand and lead him down the steps, following Hannibal to his car and getting in without even glancing back at the building they'd just left.
The world suddenly seemed to be a much colder, more malevolent place.
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