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Title: His Obsession
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
Fandom: Hannibal
Rating: PG-13
Author's Note: Sequel to "One Perfect Diamond."
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.


He watched in horror as Hannibal garrotted a man. A man who looked like him.

Will couldn't believe what he was seeing, but it was playing out before his own eyes. He couldn't deny the truth of it; he had to accept the facts.

Hannibal was the person who was killing men that looked like him. It was Hannibal, his friend, his lover, the man who he was emotionally involved with.

The body dropped to the ground, and Hannibal leaned over it, as though he was studying the young man. Will wanted to scream, to cry out, but he couldn't make a sound. He was frozen to the spot, watching helplessly, knowing that there was nothing he could do to stop what was happening.

Hannibal didn't turn to look at him; he merely went about his business as though he didn't know Will was there. He was pulling a knife from his coat pocket now ....

Will awakened with a start, his eyes snapping open. It took him a few moments to realize that he hadn't actually seen those events unfolding; they were only in his mind.
A dream, he told himself. Just a horrific dream. Not reality at all.

He took one shaky breath, then another, knowing that even though it was only a dream, that dream would stay with him; he wouldn't be able to stop thinking about it.

It had looked so real. His mind didn't want to believe that it was a dream; it had looked and felt too realistic, as though he was watching an even as it unfolded.

And suddenly, with no doubt in his mind, Will knew that it had been true. He wasn't just having a dream; he had somehow seen what was happening with crystal clarity, been taken to the place and time of one of the murders that had been disturbing all of his waking and dreaming hours lately.

Hannibal was the killer. Hannibal was the one doing this. It hadn't been a dream; it had been some kind of vision, the truth being revealed to him at last.

All right, so that might sound a little crazy. But he knew in his heart of hearts that it was true; Hannibal had been the one all along. He was killing all of these young men who resembled Will.

He didn't have to ask himself why; he already knew the answer to that question. Hannibal had given him the answer during one of their talks -- and he'd even repeated that answer when they'd been in bed, though his lover hadn't realized it at the time, and neither had he.

Will was Hannibal's obsession. For some bizarre reason that probably only made sense in his own mind, Hannibal was furthering that obsession by getting rid of men who looked like him.

That had to be the answer that he'd been seeking all along, Will told himself, sitting up in bed and running a shaking hand through his hair. It had been staring him right in the face.

But why was he being given this ability to see the truth now?

Maybe anyone else might find it flattering to be the object of their lover's obsession, but Will didn't. It was creepy, and it was more than a little disturbing.

Most of all, it was frightening. How could Hannibal think that he could get away with going to such lengths to preserve his obsession? Did he really think that he could continue to kill like this?

Of course he did. Hannibal thought that he could do anything he wanted with impunity; he thought he was untouchable, not only because of the fact that he had far too much hubris, but because he was in a relationship with an FBI agent. He thought that Will would protect him, keep him safe.

Will knew that he couldn't do that. He couldn't hide what Hannibal was doing from the authorities, now that he knew the truth. He only had one problem -- and it was a big one.

How did he convince anyone else of the truth? He had nothing to give them, only what he'd seen in a vision, which any other person would brush off as a horrible dream.

But it wasn't just a dream, and Will knew it. He'd seen the truth.

His eyes had been opened at last. He wasn't Hannibal's boyfriend, or even his lover. He was his obsession, and that fact was frightening in itself.

Hannibal wasn't someone who was completely safe to be around. He'd known that from the beginning; being his lover was a little like playing croquet with live bombs. It was exciting, of course, but at any moment, something could blow up in his face, with catastrophic effects.

Well, it seemed that was what had happened now, Will told himself as he went down the stairs to the kitchen. He needed a stiff drink. Maybe a few of them.

The question was, now that he knew the truth, what did he do about it?