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Title: One Small Piece
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
Prompt: 21, Dream
Author's Note: Sequel to "Brutal Memory."
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.
***It all felt like a dream -- but he knew that it wasn't.
That nightmare that he kept having where Hannibal forced a tube down his throat -- that hadn't been a dream. It was a memory that came back to haunt him, a memory that was just one of the pieces his subconscious was trying to let him view in the cold light of day.
None of those little flashes of memory was a dream. He hated to admit that he'd been so fooled by Hannibal's lies and manipulations, but he obviously had been.
How had he ever believed that such a monster was his friend?
Because he'd been manipulated into believing it, lulled by words that were completely untrue into believing that he was cared for and admired.
But all along, that had been a lie, Will reminded himself grimly. Hannibal had never admired him -- that hideous monster had only wanted to use him as a patsy to cover up his own crimes. He had never been anything more than a means to an end.
Well, now all of that was over, and Hannibal's crimes had been uncovered.
He never had to deal with the bastard again, and good riddance. He never wanted to look into that horribly ugly, reptilian, death's-head of a face again.
He hoped that he'd never have to be face-to-face with Hannibal again. He wanted to let their acquaintance become distant, like a barely-remembered dream.
But the time he'd spent with Hannibal hadn't been a dream. It was all too real.
No dream could he as horrible as the memories his mind could now click into place -- Hannibal forcing a tube down his throat to plant "evidence" of Will's guilt in his stomach, Hannibal manipulating his thoughts, keeping him unaware of his illness for so long.
He had been Hannibal's puppet for far too long. It was a position that he never wanted to be in again. No one would ever get away with that again, Will vowed. Never.
Once had been more than enough.
It still stung, the humiliation of being used like that. And it probably always would. But at least he'd been able to escape from it, and the real monster was now behind bars.
He still needed to put all of the pieces neatly back into place before he would have a complete picture of himself and who he was again. But at least the dreams -- no, the memories -- were bringing those pieces back, a little at a time.
One small piece at a time. One by one, and then he would finally be whole again.
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