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Title: Urgent
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
Fandom: Hannibal
Rating: PG-13
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.


By the time he arrived at Hannibal's house, Will's hands were sweaty and slipping on the steering wheel; when he stopped the car, he had to sit there for a few moments, eyes closed, breathing hard, trying to compose himself before he went into the house.

He didn't need to knock; Hannibal had told him to be here. He could mroe than likely just walk right in, sit down, and tell Hannibal what had happened.

How was Hannibal going to react? Would he be angry? Would he think that Will had somehow wanted this, or even asked for it? That definitely wasn't the case. He wasn't happy at the knowledge that someone he didn't know was following him, watching him.

What really got to him was the fact that they knew about him and Hannibal.

What were they going to do with that knowledge? They could end Hannibal's career if they wanted to; it would be considered unethical for him to sleep with a patient, at the very least. He could lose any credibility he had; he could be stripped of his credentials.

He wasn't going to let anyone do that to Hannibal. He'd keep their relationship secret, no matter what he might have to do. After all, it wasn't like he had been seduced into this.

No, he was a more than willing participant. He didn't know if he loved Hannibal, but he definitely wanted him. He wasn't a child who had gone into this without knowing what the consequences could be. He'd had his eyes wide open every step of the way.

If he'd wanted to end this, all he would have had to do was say so, and he was sure that Hannibal would have backed off. But he hadn't done that; for once in his life, he'd indulged his desires, and he wasn't going to let himself regret one second of doing so.

He was in far too deeply to back out now, and he had the feeling that Hannibal was, too. Neither of them was going to let some unknown person take this away from them.

Will knew how he felt about this -- but Hannibal's reaction was something else entirely.

The knowledge that this person had about the two of them might make Hannibal want to turn away from him. He might not be willing to risk his career for a relationship that might or might not work out. This could be the end of everything for them, the end of all that Will so desperately wanted.

No, he told himself firmly. He wasn't going to let it end like this. He wasn't going to let this unknown person deprive him of something he wanted -- and needed.

There was an urgency added to his need to see Hannibal tonight, an urgency that hadn't been there before he had found that note. He almost felt as though he was still being watched, but that was ridiculous. There was no on in the vicinity.

At least, no one that he could actually see.

The thought that his stalker could be hiding somewhere, anywhere, made him feel shaky and panicky. All he wanted to do was to get inside the house, tell Hannibal what was going on, and make him pull all of the curtains tightly shut -- especially the ones in the bedroom.

And in the office, too. Had his stalker seen what had gone on in that room? Had he seen the painting? Did he know just how Hannibal viewed Will?

Will's hands trembled at the thought; the need to see Hannibal, to tell him what was going on, was growing even more urgent. Somehow, he couldn't help thinking that if Hannibal knew about this, somehow, he could circumvent it, fix it, make everything better.

Realistically, he knew that there was nothing Hannibal could do. But it would make him feel better to just talk to the other man, to tell him what was happening. He would feel less as though the walls were closing in on him, as though he couldn't manage to take a breath.

The thought of someone invading his life like this was terrifying.

Hannibal would probably tell him to calm down, that he was making too much of this. Hannibal would be able to soothe him, to calm his nerves, to make his heart stop racing a mile a minute.

Taking a deep breath, he got out of the car, though he didn't take his bag out of the back seat. He didn't know if Hannibal would let him stay the night, even after he told the other man what was going on. Hannibal might want him to go to a nearby hotel.

If that was what he wanted, then Will would acquiesce to his wishes. After all, this was Hannibal's house, and if he didn't feel comfortable with having an overnight guest, then Will wasn't going to insist that he needed to stay -- even though he desperately wanted to.

Somehow, he knew that he would feel safer if he was here -- and not just because Hannibal was near. This was a place where he'd always felt at ease, which was a little odd, considering that there had been some awkward conversations between himself and Hannibal.

But that awkwardness had faded away, to be replaced by a feeling of .... well, he didn't know what it was, not exactly. But he felt more comfortable here than he did in his office at the FBI Academy, or in any place other than his own home.

It wasn't just the surroundings. For some strange reason, he felt safe with Hannibal.

Yet there was still that odd feeling that he got from the other man sometimes, as though Hannibal was a caged beast that could pounce at any moment. There was always some feeling of menace about him, though Will couldn't pinpoint just why he felt that way.

He needed to go into the house, into the office, to sit down and talk to Hannibal. But Hannibal had said that they wouldn't be having a session tonight -- which meant something else.

Hannibal was planning for them to be intimate tonight; there was no doubt of that. He wouldn't have gone out of his way to say that there wouldn't be a psychiatric session if that wasn't what he had in mind; Will was sure of it. Just the idea made his blood run hot.

He needed to be with Hannibal tonight, needed to let the other man have his way with him. That need was growing more urgent with each passing moment.

Why, then, was he sitting here hesitating? Why wasn't he already there?

Because he didn't want to tell Hannibal about what had happened. He was afraid of what the other man might do. He didn't want to see Hannibal's anger, to know how white-hot it could run. And he knew, without even seeing it, that he would never want to have that anger turned against him.

Hannibal's anger would be a frightening thing, he was sure of it. The man could be intimidating when he was placid; angry, he would be terrifying.

Will placed his hand on the doorbell, ready to ring it, but still feeling hesitant. There was no reason behind that feeling, only a strange sense that he would sealing his own fate if he went into this house. There was some kind of menace in the air, one that he couldn't make sense of.

Will whirled around to look behind him, then carefully studied the street. There was no one in sight; no one was out tonight. The darkness had already fallen as he'd driven here; people were inside with their families, living their own lives, oblivious to him.

What was wrong with him? Why was he hesitating when he knew what he should do? He couldn't be afraid to face Hannibal. After all, he had done nothing wrong.

He had nothing to fear. There was nothing to stop him from going inside.

Only his own hesitation, and he had to get past that. No matter how angry Hannibal might be, he had to force himself inside that house, had to talk to the other man. There was no way he could be blamed for this; Hannibal wasn't going to be angry with him.

The urgency was rising to a fever pitch now; he had to get inside the house. Slowly, reluctantly, he raised a hand to knock on the door, then remembered that he didn't have to ring the bell or knock. He could just open the door and go in.

He did so, closing the door behind him and leaning against it, his eyes closed, feeling weak and disoriented. Why was it so unnerving just to walk in here?

"Will." Hannibal's voice came to him as though from far away; he opened his eyes, blinking, feeling a little embarrassed that Hannibal had caught him at such a weak moment. He didn't want the other man to see him like this, didn't want to expose that weakness.

"I'm glad you're here. I've been looking forward to this evening."

"So have I," he murmured as he followed Hannibal into the office, his mouth dry, unsure of just what he would say, but knowing that once he started talking, the words would spill out.

The urgency was gone, replaced by a feeling of calm -- but Will knew that was only on the surface. Under that exterior, his nerves were tingling, his entire body taut and tense. He was waiting for the explosion that would surely come when Hannibal knew the situation.

He hoped that he wouldn't be caught in the crossfire.