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Title: Turn Back
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
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 had to go back.
That was the only thought in Will's mind as he lay in bed, tossing and turning and wishing he could think of anything else but the way he'd run out of Dr. Lecter's office the day before. He'd made a fool of himself, without knowing exactly why he'd done so.
One part of him was sure that if he put enough personal distance between himself and Lecter, he would be safe. Safe from wanting, safe from needing, safe from the desires that seemed to pound at him every second of every day, especially when he was near Hannibal.
Hannibal. Funny how he thought of his psychiatrist by his first name.
When he was trying to keep a safe distance between them, the other man was "Dr. Lecter" in his thoughts. Any other time, he was Hannibal -- the man who Will wanted with a passion that he'd never thought he could possibly be capable of feeling.
Did Hannibal know how he felt? Could he possibly guess? Will wasn't sure, but if anyone was capable of divining his emotions, then it was Lecter.
He should know by now that there was no safe distance. There was no place he could to where Hannibal wasn't able to come; the man knew him better than he knew himself. Which was one of the reasons that Will wanted him so desperately.
It was a need that went beyond the physical. He needed Hannibal's knowledge of who he was; he needed to be with someone who understood him, who felt comfortable with him and didn't look at him like he was some kind of freak in a sideshow.
Hannibal and he fit each other like a second skin.
He'd known that from their first session. He had looked into those eyes and felt as though he was drawn into the other man, as though Hannibal was searching his soul. There had been no doubt in his mind that the man in front of him would change his life drastically.
And Hannibal had changed his life. He had never spent hours thinking about anyone before. He had never fantasized about being with anyone else, never had another person invade his dreams and make him wake in a cold sweat, in a daze of wanting.
More than that, he had never felt as though any other person was drawing him out of himself, looking at his naked soul and finding it to their liking.
Hannibal knew him in a way no one else did. And he needed someone in his life who knew him that well, someone who could push him further than he was willing to go on his own. He needed Hannibal in his life -- as more than just his doctor.
That was why he had to go back.
If he didn't, then he would be tacitly saying that he didn't need this relationship as badly as he did. And he would more than likely be giving up any chance of pushing the doctor/patient relationship they shared now into another dimension, of taking things a step further.
Will wasn't sure that he was ready for that step; running away like he did had proven that he wasn't in a state of mind to push against the barriers around them yet. But he knew that every time he saw Hannibal, he was moving closer to bringing those barriers crashing down.
If he kept running away from Hannibal, then he would never know if what he wanted so badly could actually happen. He would never have the courage to open that door.
He didn't want to spend all of his life wondering, didn't want to face the "what ifs." He wanted to gather up his courage and break those barriers down, to see what could happen between the two of them if he could only literally lay himself bare before the man he wanted.
That was much easier said than done.
Will's lips quirked into the semblance of a wry smile. How many times had he told himself that it shouldn't be so hard for him to open up to Hannibal about what he truly wanted, but had then backed away from doing so? More times than he could begin to count.
Hannibal probably thought he was a coward. He had no doubt that the other man knew exactly what he wanted; he wouldn't have been standing so close, practically breathing down his neck, if he hadn't known precisely what effect that doing so would have.
Doctor Lecter was no fool -- and he could read people much better than anyone else Will had ever known. He had no secrets from this man, none at all.
That in itself was frightening. There were some secrets that he needed to hold close, to keep to himself until he was ready to let them go free. But Hannibal had a way of divining all of his secrets, pulling them out of him one by one and exposing them to the light of his scrutiny.
He should have known that there could never be any secrets between them.
Will sighed, sitting up in bed and running a hand through his hair. He glanced at the clock, knowing that it was far too early in the morning for anyone to be up, but knowing that he had to go back to Hannibal's house. This had to be out in the open. Now.
He didn't have to explain his earlier behavior; Hannibal would know what it had meant. All he had to do was show up at the doctor's door, and try to explain himself while Hannibal listened. He had to go back, had to try to get back onto the path he'd wandered away from.
It was time for him to turn back, to retrace his steps to see if he could come back to the place where he belonged. He'd strayed too far from that path, and he had to find his way back onto it. IF he didn't, he could end up wandering around lost forever.
He wouldn't technically be lost -- he would still be right here, where others needed him to be. But he would have lost his anchor, the rock that he needed to cling to.
Hannibal was that rock. He always had been.
It was no mistake that he had found his way to this particular doctor. There had been a spark between them ever since the first time they'd met -- and even though his senses screamed at him to run away when they got too close for comfort, he couldn't bring himself to break the tie.
He needed Hannibal, and that need was growing stronger with each passing day. There was nothing he could do to assuage it, to sublimate it. He had been trying to do that, but it wouldn't work any longer. He had to turn back to the path he'd been on, before it was too late.
At this point, it didn't seem to matter if that path might lead to his destruction. It was inevitable that he should follow it to the very end, wherever it might lead.
Sighing, Will pushed the covers back and swung his legs out of the bed, deliberately placing his feet firmly on the floor and standing up. He had to go to Hannibal's house now, before he lost his nerve. He had to show the other man that he wasn't going to run away.
It was inevitable that he turn back. He had no other choice.
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