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Title: Two Sides To Every Story
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
Table: Big Bang Inspirations, tv_universe
Prompt: Double Exposure
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.
***Hannibal studied himself critically in the mirror, adjusting his tie as he did so. He had a session with Will Graham tonight, and he found himself looking forward to it more than he should be. He always liked being around Will when the young man was opening up to him.
Later tonight, Will would open in a different way, he thought, a smile curving his lips. Will would be in his bed, at his mercy, under his control.
But he really shouldn't be thinking about that now; it wasn't the time to concentrate on sensual pleasures. He had to focus on getting Will to talk to him, to open up about his visions. He had to know if he was one of the killers that Will had seen.
He didn't think so; if Will had visualized him, if Will knew the things that he had done, he'd undoubtedly have the police here. Will might be fond of him in a way, they might be lovers in the physical sense, but he wouldn't hesitate to right anything he thought was wrong.
And of course, Will saw killing as wrong. Even though he had taken a life himself.
Hannibal knew that Will was still haunted by that action; he probably would be for the rest of his life. Even if Will did have that darkness lurking inside him, much closer to the surface than it was with most people, he still couldn't take killing lightly.
Hannibal intended to remove that hesitation, to make Will see killing for the beautiful experience it could be. It might take a while, but he was determined to achieve that goal.
Will would become his creation; he would be a Svengali. The idea appealed to him more than he'd thought it would; Will wasn't simply a means to an end, as all of his earlier projects had been. Will was a mirror of who he himself was, a double exposure of Hannibal.
That thought made him smile; he wondered what Will would think of it. Of course, the boy would never know that he was being cleverly manipulated; for all of Will's superior intelligence, he had met his match in the man who was his lover.
Will loved him; that was an undeniable fact. He tried to hide it, but it was there in his gaze whenever he looked at Hannibal, clearly written in the blue depths of those fathomless eyes. Will was in far too deeply to ever be able to escape; he was Hannibal's prisoner.
But it was a prison that he had willingly locked himself into.
This was what Will wanted, Hannibal reminded himself. He had walked into this prison of his own free will, he had started by merely desiring Hannibal, but what he felt had gone far past desire. Will might not admit it in so many words, but he loved. At his own peril.
He would have to be disposed of someday. Hannibal knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that at some point, Will would become disposable. That was a pity.
Will would simply become too dangerous to be allowed to live. There would be a point where he would have to make a choice between what he currently thought was right and what Hannibal would teach him was right -- and Hannibal didn't know which road he would choose.
As he was now, Will would turn towards the path of righteousness; he would eschew killing, back away from it, regard it with horror. Yes, he had already taken a life, but it had horrified him to do so, even though it had been the life of a killer who had to die.
It was going to take quite a while before he could desensitize Will to what the young man saw as the horror of killing, to make him feel that it was something pleasurable, something to revel in, not to recoil from. Will had that horror ingrained deeply into his psyche.
But Hannibal was sure that with time and patience, he could bring his young protégé around to his way of thinking, though he would have to move slowly and carefully.
He couldn't take the risk of Will running away from him.
If Will ran, then he would have to die. And all of that potential for darkness would be destroyed. Hannibal could only view that as a terrible waste, but if it came down to either letting Will live, or protecting himself, he knew exactly where his priorities would lie.
He sincerely hoped that the likenesses he saw between them would only grow stronger, that his plans for Will Graham would come to pass. He hated wasted potential, and he saw so much of that potential in Will. He saw Will becoming a mirror image of himself.
There were two sides to every story, Hannibal thought as he ran a comb through his hair. Will's side, at the moment, was light, and his own was darkness.
Will was already beginning to draw closer to that darkness; sooner or later, he would emerge with it, become a part of it. Hannibal was eagerly anticipating that day; it would be an achievement for him to bring Will over to the darkness, to groom him as a partner.
He'd never really felt that he needed -- or wanted -- a partner, but now that Will was in his bed, perhaps the boy should also be his partner in other ways. though Will wasn't exactly an equal in bed, he mused. He was more like a submissive, with Hannibal exerting his dominance.
Still, it would be interesting to see how those dynamics would play out. Though he certainly wasn't going to let Will have any sort of power over him.
Really, didn't he already have that? Hannibal frowned as he stared into the mirror.
Will Graham had taken over his thoughts -- and, in a way, his life. He had somehow managed to maneuver himself into the position where he needed Will; he knew that he wouldn't feel complete if he didn't have this young man in his life in every way possible.
Did he love Will? Of course not, he scoffed inwardly. That was a ridiculous question. What he felt for Will was far more akin to lust than to love; he wasn't even sure that he was capable of love. He didn't think so. But this was far beyond the mere friendship he had at first sought.
Will had somehow become necessary to him. He hadn't expected that, and the realization came as something of a shock. But that necessity could work to his advantage in some ways. He would simply have to go from there, and make it work for him.
Yes, they would be partners -- once he had coerced Will into the darkness, and it had seeped into him, filling him with the poison that only Hannibal could inject.
Will was already the light to his darkness, the yin to his yang. There were two sides to every coin, two sides to every story. Will would be his opposite side, even while they stood together united as one. The light that Will would radiate outwardly would cover the darkness within his soul.
There were two sides to every story -- and Will would be the light to his darkness. Though the further Will was drawn into the darkness, the more his light would dim. That would be a pity, but it was something that had to happen. It was inevitable.
When that light no longer radiated, then Will would have to meet his fate.
That, of course, brought up other questions. Would he be able to bring himself to dispose of Will? They would have been lovers for a while by then; losing Will would be a bitter pill to swallow.
Ah well, that was something he could think about when the time drew closer for it to happen, Hannibal told himself, pushing that disturbing premonition out of his mind. It might not even come to that; Will might have met his fate before then. Anything could happen.
He was taking risks by letting Will become such an integral part of his life; he knew that. But the risks were intoxicating, and each one brought Will closer to where Hannibal wanted him to be. Perhaps he would be able to bring Will into his world much sooner than he'd originally thought.
The double exposure of the two of them would become clearer as time went on. Will would become ever more a part of him; it would remain to be seen just how much Will could be brought into his world before he would break and pull away, and seal his own fate.
But hopefully, Will wouldn't break for a very long time.
There were indeed two sides to every story, he thought as he turned away from the mirror and headed out of the room. And both sides of this story had yet to be told.
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