Title: Seen As A Victim
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
Fandom: Hannibal
Rating: NC-17
Author's Note: Sequel to "Trapped in Unreality."
Warning: Rape.
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.
***
Will swallowed hard, not trusting himself to speak.If he did, then he would surely begin screaming, and once that had started, he doubted that he would ever be able to stop. He would simply keep screaming, on and on into infinity.
"I'm sure that you know what I intend to do," Hannibal said, walking into the room to stand by the bed. "You should have known all along that your fate is inevitable, Will."
Will didn't nod, didn't speak, didn't respond. Hannibal was standing right beside him, and he had to struggle to keep himself still, not to shrink as far away as his bonds would allow him to do. The other man was still fully clothed, which made him fairly sure of what was about to happen.
But he would fight to the best of his ability. He wasn't going to let this monster kill him and make his death look like some random murder without putting up the struggle of his life.
Hannibal looked down at him, a small smile curving that thin, almost lipless mouth. "You will not die today, Will. That is not my plan for you."
Rape, then. Will had dreaded that even more than the thought of death.
He didn't want this man to touch him, wouldn't have wanted it even if this was a completely different situation. He might be gay, but he had never desired Hannibal Lecter.
He had never wanted this man in any way. Their friendship, if it could be called that, had been an uneasy one since the beginning, and there had never been any hint of sexual desire in it, at least not from Will's direction. Maybe he'd read Hannibal's signals all wrong.
Maybe Hannibal had always wanted him, but he didn't think so. What he was about to do wasn't a crime of desire, it was about power and control. Nothing more.
Hannibal didn't want him in a sexual way. He had no doubt of that.
Hannibal merely wanted to control him, to terrify him into submission. Hannibal wanted to wield power over him, jsut as he did when he was killing someone.
This was a different kind of killing. Hannibal knew that he would be killing a part of Will's soul with this act, reducing him to nothing more than a helpless victim.
Or maybe Hannibal did want him in the sexual sense, and this was the only way that he would have what he wanted. At this point, the reasons why didn't matter much to Will. He was only concerned with what would take place -- and being able to survive it.
Hannibal moved out of his range of vision, and Will could hear the rustle of clothes being removed and dropped to the floor. His muscles tightened, his body reacting to the sound.
This man was going to rape him, take him against his will. And afterward, he could very well end up dead, his body left here for days before it was discovered.
No, Hannibal had told him that he wasn't going to die today. Did that mean that rape was the only thing he was intent on, and that he would come back at some later time to take Will unawares, to end his life in some gruesome way? That was probably what he planned, to draw out the mental torture.
Will closed his eyes when he felt fingers trailing down his spine, then moving over the rounded curves of his ass. He didn't want this touch, wasn't aroused by it at all.
But his traitorous body was reacting in a way that he hadn't expected. A purely physical response, of course, but one that was still unsettling.
He didn't want Hannibal to think that he would enjoy this.
The bed creaked slightly as Hannibal lowered his weight to it; Will swallowed hard, struggling not to cry out in protest. He desperately wanted to break away, to scream, to run.
There was no chance of that. Not only was he bound too tightly to have any hope of freeing himself, but Hannibal was now on top of him, stroking cold hands down his sides, those long fingers stroking between his legs, cupping his balls, obviously trying to evoke some favorable response.
Will concentrated on not letting Hannibal have what he wanted; he wasn't going to give this monster intent on rape any satisfaction, if that was at all possible.
He would fight until the end, no matter what it might cost him.
When Hannibal thrust into him, he couldn't keep himself from crying out, a short, sharp scream that seemed to rent the air around them and reverberate off the walls.
Nothing had ever hurt this much; there had been no gentleness, no preparation other than those fingers before he had been violated, Hannibal's thrusts hard and deep.
Will gritted his teeth again the pain, trying his best not to make any sound at all, though he knew that small moans were escaping despite his best effort. He could hear Hannibal panting, feel the grip of one hand on his shoulder. That was sure to leave a dark bruise in the shape of those fingers.
He just wanted this to be over, to be done with, for Hannibal to leave. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to live after this was done; the humiliation seemed like too much to bear.
Just when he thought that he couldn't take it any more, Will heard Hannibal cry out softly, then felt the warm rush of his release. He struggled to hold his body back, but it was useless.
His own release came only moments later, to his shame and disgust.
He hadn't enjoyed this. He hadn't wanted it. Hannibal had to know that his reactions were nothing more than the purely physical response of the male body to sexual stimulation.
He couldn't possibly think that somewhere deep within him, Will had welcomed this violation, had wanted to suffer so at the hands of a corrupt, conscienceless rapist.
Dimly, he felt Hannibal pull out of him, felt the bed move as the other man's weight was removed. His entire body felt wracked with pain; he didn't think that he'd be capable of moving even if Hannibal freed him. All he could do was lie here, and fight back tears of humiliation and pain.
Hannibal had left the room; Will could hear the water in the shower come on, and he closed his eyes. He could hardly believe what had just taken place.
It didn't feel quite real. It felt like a dream, a horrible dream that he would wake up from in time. But it wasn't a dream; it was all too true, even if he didn't want to admit to that fact.
Hannibal had raped him. He'd become nothing more than a victim.
Or had that been how Hannibal had always seen him, as nothing more than someone to victimize and then rid himself of when the time was right? He had to wonder about that.
After what seemed like a very long period of time, Hannibal came back into the room, and Will could hear the rustling of his clothes as he got dressed again. Within moments, the other man was leaning over him, and Will had to once again fight the urge to flinch away from him.
"I give you your life, Will," Hannibal whispered as he loosened the cords around Will's left wrist. "But do not think that you won't have to look over your shoulder. I am not done with you."
With those words, he exited the room; Will heard his footsteps going down the stairs.
Within a few moments, the front door slammed, and he could hear a car's engine start up. The crunching of wheels on gravel told him that his nemesis had gone.
It took him longer than he'd thought it would to twist his wrist enough to free it from the loosened bonds; when he did, he reached for his other hand, loosening the ropes that bound his wrist to the bedpost. Within moments, he'd managed to sit up and free his ankles as well.
Then he curled himself into a ball, pulled the covers up, and closed his eyes. He didn't want to move, didn't want to think about what had just happened.
It still felt like a dream, but the pain in his body told him that it was real.
After a while, he forced himself to sit up, then to get to his fett. He almost wanted to scream when he took a step; the pain seemed to intensify tenfold.
He'd have to make his way downstairs and call Jack, tell him what had happened. He didn't want to, but he really had no choice in the matter. He had to let Jack know so that he could start a manhunt for Hannibal; there was no way that an attack on an FBI agent could be pushed aside.
It would be humiliating, but he had to put the wheels into motion. Hannibal had to be caught, and quickly, before he came back into Will's life for what would probably be the last time.
He had to let himself be seen as a victim, if only for a short while.
***
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