Hannigram Oneshots

Therapy session

"Don't look at me like that," Will said through gritted teeth. Hannibal smiled tilting his head.

"I am sure I do not know what you mean. Would you care to elaborate?" Will slouched in the chair, hands folded in his lap.

"You look at me like I'm an ant waiting to be stepped on." he frowned and fiddled with his fingers.

"I find it interesting that you think such things Will."

"Everybody does, it's like I'm a mutated rat. Who doesn't want a piece to dissect? Gotta figure out how it works, can't just let it be. It's too scrumptious not to indulge in." Hannibal chuckled at Will's tone of voice and choice of words. He continued, "I think those thoughts because I know you. It was very difficult to get behind your facade Hannibal, you are quite the performer. But once I got under your skin, under that custom-made person suit, it was very easy for me to get to know you."

"To understand me?" Hannibal asked, prompting Will's eyes to find his, something that didn't happen often. Hannibal was intent on keeping the contact and they stayed in silence for minutes. Staring at each other, taking the planes of their faces in, the curves of each other's jaws, the unmistakable glint they found in each other's eyes. Will pulled away from Hannibal's gaze eventually and answered his question.

"I suppose. I hold... something for you. I don't know what it is and it's certainly covered in enough blood to be unsettling but I do understand it. No matter how much I don't want to and resent the fact that I can empathize with you."

"You become what you absorb Will. Has all that blood tainted you yet? You especially know how it is, such pure empathy comes with drawbacks. Do you ever wish it was different, that you and I were-"

"Normal?" Will interjected and snorted at the thought.

"It is rude to interrupt William," Hannibal's dark colors hid the blood in his eyes. He seemed so unsettling like this but it didn't detour Will. He wasn't bothered by the barely veiled threats. This was Hannibal, he couldn't hurt him. Not again, there weren't any more ways he could, that mattered. She's gone. Almost all of them are. It's just us.

"Is it? When I know what you are going to say? It's honestly pointless to let you gabber on for minutes when I know your point. Why keep up appearances, you and I have already begun to blur, what's the point?" Will decided it best to add an apology after, he didn't want to push Hannibal too far. Though he liked seeing the looks on his face, the way he could get under his skin. "I hope you do not take offense. I did not mean to be rude. We all know how you feel about those types of people." Hannibal took a deep breath. Like a mother trying to calm herself. He switched the position of his legs, crossing them again. He spoke softly and Will couldn't help but keep eye contact.

"You are not rude, Will. If you were, you would have been gone a long time ago. You tend to make some choices that one may consider rude. But I know you are just being coy and brazen. You want to elicit a response out of me, what kind I could not say." he breathed deep, trying to catch a breath he didn't know he'd lost. "I suppose we have begun to blur but the line is still there. I was not going to say normal. That would be rude. I do not appreciate such things, you know this dear boy," Will flinched at the sudden endearment, trying to slide past it.

"What were you going to say then?" Will asked, an eyebrow arched, eyes challenging.

"We have gone past the point of it mattering anymore. I just wondered if you wish that it was different. If you and I had done things differently if time could have reversed..."

"You can't unshatter the teacup, Hannibal." Will's bluntness cut him, leaving a trail of red copper in its wake.

He sighed. "I can not, sometimes I wish I could. What I have done to you, is one of the few occasions I have felt such strong remorse for my actions. I often find myself thinking about it in the dark. I am sorry Will." he looked at him, all sincerity obvious in his features. Hannibal's face, a poem written in cursive, and yet still an arrogant apology.

"I can forgive you. Forgiveness is not something you deserve but I give it anyway." Will's hair was plastered to his neck as if he had been running laps around Hannibal's office. He supposed that metaphorically he had been.

Forgiveness is best seen as something akin to falling in love. Bedilia's voice rang through Hannibal's head. She was right, he didn't know if Will felt the same but he sure acted that way.

"Forgiveness. It is an awful concept, do you think?" Will wasn't sure where Hannibal was going with this but he let some line out anyway.

"Why would you think that Hannibal? Do you not want my forgiveness, my gift I give to you?" Hannibal was hit in the jaw.

"What I was saying is that the idea itself is simple enough but causes so many problems. Hypothetically say someone does something wrong, perhaps unforgivable. But because time dulls all wounds, they know eventually they'll give in. That they will forgive." Will sat there in silence. He knew this was only a preamble to a conversation about their relationship. But no matter how much they'd been through, the bloody secrets that bound them, Hannibal wouldn't drop his facade. Will could see right past it, they both knew that. Yet they acted as if they didn't, a stag in the room nobody wanted to address. "I appreciate your gift, Will. I will not take it for granted. Thank you." the hook sunk into Hannibal. Will had caught him, finally.