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Title: The Path of Justice
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
Fandom: Hannibal
Rating: PG-13
Table: writers_choice
Prompt: #197, Justice
Author's Note: Sequel to "Missing Pieces."
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.


"What do you want from these sessions, Will?" Hannibal leaned back in his chair, folding his hands in his lap. "You don't seem as focused as you were before."

Justice, Will thought, his mind almost snarling the word. He wanted justice. He wanted to see this monster that sat across from him in an expensive suit, almost smirking, put behind bars where it belonged, like the vicious animal that it was.

Not only for himself, but for all of Hannibal's victims.

He wanted to see this monster suffer for what it had done, the way it had used people. He wanted to see this thing have its freedom taken away, just as he himself had.

Hannibal had never been forced to suffer the consequences of his actions. He had gotten away scot-free with everything he'd done, every evil act he had committed, and he apparently thought that he had the right to commit such atrocities.

It made Will feel sick to sit here and look at that smug, ugly, reptilian face. He hated having to be in the same room with this monster, this snake, this .... creature.

Hannibal Lecter was vile, Will thought to himself, struggling not to let his hands ball into fists as he thought of all the tings this viper had done to him. But no more. Hannibal was going to be beaten at his own game, and this time, he would pay for his crimes.

Will didn't know how he was going to manage that when no one would believe him, but he would. Somehow. He would prove Hannibal's guilt.

He'd prove it beyond s shadow of a doubt.

But at the moment, his quest for justice had to move slowly. He had to convince Hannibal that he was ready to trust again, and that wouldn't be easy.

He was fairly sure that Hannibal could guess how he felt, and that the snake would do everything he could to try to charm and disarm him. Will almost snorted in derision at that thought. Hannibal's vaunted charm was never going to work on him again.

There was no use in Hannibal trying to use that charm on him, or to pretend that he cared about how Will felt. Will knew that wasn't so.

This monster had never cared about him. They had never truly been friends.

No, he had only been an object for Hannibal to use, a patsy for him to experiment with and use as the fall guy for the crimes he had committed.

Breaking him, to remake him in Hannibal's own image. He was sure that was what this reptile had wanted; he'd wanted to make Will into something as dark and evil as he was, to exploit the light inside Will until he had managed to extinguish it.

Hannibal coveted what he was because he could never have it, Will told himself. And he would make sure that this creature never had the chance to reach for that light.

Hannibal was a hideous monster who would never do anything but harm people. On the surface, he might pretend to help, but there was always a sinister hidden purpose.

Will knew that he would never trust anything Hannibal did or said any more; he would never be able to look at Hannibal as anything but a repulsive monster. But he had to hold that disgust back, convince Hannibal that their so-called "friendship" could be rebuilt.

That would more than likely be the hardest thing that he'd ever done. Hell, it was hard to sit here in the same room with such a hideous beast.

But he would do it. He would fool this creature, lull it into complacency.

He would find justice, for himself and for the rest of Hannibal's victims. And when he did, he would be proud of what he had accomplished.

"What do I want?" He pretended to think, though he already knew exactly what he wanted. He wanted to get Hannibal to confess, even if only obliquely, to all that he'd done, all the lives he'd destroyed, all the murders he had committed. He wanted this monster to hang itself.

"What do I want?" he repeated slowly. "I want things to go back to the way they were before everything went down. I want to put all the unpleasantness behind us."

Could Hannibal tell that those words were a lie? Will didn't think so.

"So, you're not still convinced that I committed all of those horrific crimes simply in order to frame you?" his nemesis questioned, leaning back and fixing Will with his gimlet stare.

Of course he did, Will thought to himself. But he had to use all of his strength to disseminate now, to make this monster believe that he had truly abandoned his knowledge of what Hannibal was. He had to make this .... this thing believe that they were friends.

This was going to take all of the acting skill that he possessed, Will thought dryly. But he'd pull it off. He had to. So much depended on it.

Other lives would depend on how much he could get Hannibal to reveal. If he was lucky, this monster would let things slip, would brag obliquely about some of what he'd done -- and Will could gather that evidence, put it into context, and eventually go to Jack with it.

He would just have to hope that Jack believed him. If he didn't, then it would take more than just the words Hannibal said to bring him to justice.

There would be justice done. Will would make sure of that.

He would manage, somehow to find justice for every person Hannibal had ever harmed, for every grieving family that had been left behind. Not only those people, but himself as well. He would make sure that this devil masquerading as a human being wouldn't cause any more harm.

Never mind that he wasn't sure yet which direction he should head in. Once he figured that out, he'd move down the path of justice. And nothing would stop him.

"Of course I'm not," he finally answered, the words threatening to stick in his throat. It was so hard to keep up this charade of friendliness, but Will knew that he had to. He couldn't let the mask he was wearing slip. That could prove dangerous, even fatal.

He'd force himself to be friendly. He had a higher purpose in mind.

Eventually, he would be smiling at Hannibal Lecter from the right side of a jail cell. This monster would be trapped behind bars, and he himself could finally gloat.

Will smiled at the thought, knowing that Hannibal would think it was a smile of friendship, with an entirely different meaning. He would find justice. This was only the beginning.