"𝑨𝒄𝒄𝒆𝒑𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆... "

"𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒐𝒏 𝒊𝒏, 𝑾𝒊𝒍𝒍... "

"Acceptance is the best kind of hope..."
'{A Hannigram story}'
By; IVERSINESKYE4
(CHAPTER I)
"Come on in, Will" Hannibal says gently. The familiar voice brings a type of...peace over Will.
Hannibal closes the door of his office, slowly turning around. He sits at his desk, the very chair he sits in fits him so well it makes him look like a king.
"Why did you come to me today, Will?" Hannibal asks, his voice is affectionate. He's so soft spoken. Hell, he's so soft spoken even his threats sound calm and caring.
" It wasn't my choice, Mr. Crawford..or Jack forced me to come here after my viewing of the...angels." Will sighs clearly in some state of discomfort as he brings up the topic of the murders.
"Talk to me, Will" Hannibal sighs softly. "What brings you such discomfort that you can't even talk about it." Hannibal asks willing to bring up a conversation about this.
"I had to see a man hung by a noose. He was in a barn...but before he hung himself he gave himself wings..in the hopes of making himself an angel. Maybe he was trying to rid of a sin or maybe he felt impure. It had something to do with god or the devil. He did it to his wife and daughter Hannibal. He did it to pedestrians." Will spits the cringe evident in his tone.
"You should set a goal. Once it gets to be too much for you you take a break. Get some time to process what you've seen or heard, Will." Hannibal suggests.
"How do you accept me to accomplish some goal?" Will shakes his head.
"I don't expect, I know." Hannibal reassures. "You just don't put effort into growing yourself. You are overflowing with doubt, Will." Hannibal objects, gently sliding his hand over the delicately carved grain of his oak wood desk. A texture only the expertise of time and nature can accomplish.
"How else do you expect me to help others? If I'm caught up in my feelings, helping others will no longer be evident." Will rejects Hannibal's offer of comfort and ease.
"Don't reject me. You matter and can't change that, Will." He licks his lips before continuing.
"Why do you reject having that ease? You never let me take away that weight." Hannibal finishes.
"Ease doesn't exist. If you rid of your problems you can never adapt to the feeling of disappointment. You will get broken by the littlest feeling of belittlement. Then what? Get overcome by rage and sadness, then do something stupid? I'd rather not be embarrassed by such shame." Will rambles. Letting out a sigh as he catches his mistake.
"I expect nothing more from you, Will." Hannibal shakes his head. " Ease is something of acceptance not of belief or miracle. You underestimate the power of your emotions, Will." Hannibal sighs before speaking again. "You need to be more lenient with yourself, Will." Hannibal exhales.
"I am lenient, I just don't express it. Leniency means vulnerability, vulnerability means weakness, and weakness means incapability. I am none of the above." Will contorts.
Hannibal who is now slightly taken aback by Will's confidence leans back, his pupils widening slightly. " You realize everyone can have a vulnerable state and not be weak." Hannibal chuckles. "Even the toughest lion in the pride has a weak point. " Hannibal responds. " Well, that just goes to say, you can be high and mighty, tough and strong, or undefeated and cocky, but you still have a weakness. That's what makes you human. Don't fault yourself for your human nature, Will. That will make you become crazed and inhumane." Hannibal adds before quieting waiting for a response.
"I'm already crazed and inhumane, why else would Jack send me here. I could barely pass the screening. I am only in the inner circle because I can think like a murderer. I can think like a cold blooded animal because that's my nature. To be cold, callused and unlikable. I'm meant to be feared, Hannibal. Not because I'm smart or because I know tactics but because in the agency I'm known as Will Graham 'The man who went crazy.' I'm known as the impolite retard who can't seem to handle a little gore." Will hisses. "I'm leaving, I need to feed my dogs." Will announces before quickly getting up and exiting the building. Leaving Hannibal's office door widely ajar.

Will Graham is working on a new case. They like to call it ' Ragdolls'. The man that is believed to have committed these crimes, through the thorough investigation of Dr. Hannibal Lecter and Special genet Will graham is Gareth Fretwell, a 54 year old man who lives with his family of 6 His wife, five sons and one daughter. The Fretwell family house has had many reports of a bad odor but other than that no suspicious behavior has come from the family. "Will, so as you know you've been directed to solve the Gareth Fretwell case." Jack clears his throat. "You and Hannibal will be going over to his place of residency and see what the hell is going on with this man." Jack directs.
"Well, I'll need his medical, criminal and purchase records." Will admits. Jack gives him a confused look.
"Why do you need his records?" Jack asks, sounding both of annoyance and fear for what response is bound to come.
"I'll answer questions later, just get me those files Jack." Will says professionally hiding his frustration with need. Jack gets up calling for somebody before requesting the printing of his files. Will waits patiently, shaking his leg and gnawing on his fingertip. The files are dropped in front of him with a whisk. He smatches them up quickly going first for the medical records. "Hm, no record of any physical disease..he can run and walk perfectly fine." Will begins. "I see, minor asthma and shortness of breath." Will closes the file case and quickly proceeds to the purchase files. "I think we've got our guy." Will says, sure about his discovery.
"Why do you say that?" Jack asks, leaning over trying to get a glimpse of what gave Will such a bright idea that this guy is our culprit.
"It says here, throughout the past three years he has brought about 760,000 pounds of Golden crown thread and about 19,000 boxes of twine needles. They have a similar curve and thickness to a medical stitching needle." Will says quietly. "That's the smell. He isn't living with 6 people. He owns them...he turned them all into dolls. I assume he is stuffing them and sewing back on their limbs to create that ragdoll look.He's really insane." Will explains.
"That's why we chose you, agent Graham. You know how to be crazy." Jack says before beckoning Will toward the door. Will gets up and Jack stops him when he is almost out the door. "I'm giving you five days, come back with a closed case by then." Jack commands.
"Don't underestimate me, Crawford. I only need 8 hours." Will, redirects quickly before closing the door completely.

Will and Hannibal arrive at Mr. Fretwell's door, the odor hurts like a bitch, it burns Will's eyes.
Will coughs and knocks on the door. Hannibal looks at Will seemingly unfazed by such a gruesome fragrance.
"H-hello? I wasn't expecting company.." Mr. Fretwell says softly as he peeks out of the door. "If you're one of those guys for the smell, I'm dealing with it...just don't give me another ticket please."
"No, Special Agent Will Graham." He corrects. "This is Dr. Hannibal Lecter."
"Hello Gareth. Please, allow us inside." Hannibal asks gently.
"If not we will and can use force." Will adds. "And please trust I've had a...tough week and I will be aggressive and heavy handed if I use force, Mr. Fretwell." Will concludes his threats, meeting Hannibal an uncomfortable gaze, of course their eyes never meet. Hannibal's expression is unreadable as he shares the same microexpression for every bit of joy, uncertainty, depression, or shock he experiences. Hannibal gets close to Will whispering in his ear.
"Are you alright Will? You look like you're about to be green." Hannibal asks both worried and unsurprised.
"Fine, thanks." Will says blankly. He backs up, wiping his ear with his sleeve. He is slightly discombobulated and woozy by the sickening odor, and he struggles to keep himself sane with how bad this scent is. Keep breakfast down, keep it down... Will thought to himself struggling not to dry retch in front of the resident of this house.The face Gareth is making now makes Will go ghost-cold. As if a spirit from the people in this house is telling him of their misfortune or telling him to run...he can't tell. Mr.Frwtwell's eyes are wide and crazed, the bags more evident. "He's planning something..." Will blurts just above a whisper. Draw your gun, draw your gun! Will's mind screams and before he knows it he is grabbing for his hand gun set perfectly in his holster. "You up to something and I know it!" Will says shaking slightly, moving and speaking without his own will. Will and Hannibal push past Gareth, still worried about how stiff he is, as if he's been bitten by something. "Are you okay Mr. Fretwell? It said in your medical records you didn't have any case of rigor mortis or arthritis." Will asks, looking around slowly, cautious of whatever Gareth tries to pull. He walks out of the Living room and starts to approach a room with a locked door, the smell becomes unbearable. Will can't help but gaga and cover his mouth in hopes of some filtering. He kicks the door continuously trying to get it free. "Open the door." Will asks but Mr. Fretwell stays silent. BANG BANG- Will shoots the lock as it drops to the ground with a clank. He opens the door and he sees a collection "Of dolls..."Will thinks out loud. "He kills them, then feels regret...so he tries to fix them, by making them dolls. He's not insane...he's selfish and crazy." Will whispers
"Are you okay, Will?" Hannibal asks the thud of the door, snaps Will out of his..trance.
"I..what?" Will says discombobulated by the fact that he appeared here. "I wha- How did I get here..?" Will asks himself. Hannibal gives an undetectable concerned look.
"Will I-" Hannibal gets quickly cut off by Will who desperately clings to Hannibal's broad shoulder.
"Are you okay?" Hannibal asks concerned.
"Aspirin..." Will begs quietly. Will puts a hand on his chest, his knees buckling slightly, though he braces himself.
"Aspirin...I need the...Aspirin." He plea's. "I left it in your office..please." He begs again. Hannibal rushes to his office and grabs the aspirin from his drawer. He rushes back and hands him the white and blue pill bottle. Will opens up the bottle and quickly swallows the penny sized pill, dry. Will lets out a sigh.
"I can't tell if I'm awake or asleep, Hannibal..I-" Will stops as if he was shushed by someone. He slowly continues. "I.. Don't know what's real anymore. I don't even know if you and I are real either... this could all be a dream and I wouldn't know. " Will says, seemingly scared of the unknown.
"Your scared of losing control, Will. You're scared of the thought that soon you might not be able to have the upper hand because you don't know what's real... and that's scares you. Why? Hannibal asks, understanding Will's fear more than Will does but still wants to get a peek in his head. Even if his head is twisted and cold and fucked up he wants to know about Will. As if Hannibal's psychoanalysis of Will wasn't enough Hannibal still has many attempts to get I side of Will's brain, he wants to know every little thing about him.
"Don't psychoanalyze me...you won't like me when I'm psychoanalyzed. " Will contorts. Hannibal knew that was going to be his answer but he likes to see the way the word psychoanalyze rolls off his tongue. The way his lips move to form his yearning sentences. The way Will's eyes avoid contact with Hannibal. "Will, you are taking in continued abuse. " Hannibal says gently but sure of what he has stated.
"I..I am not being abused! " Will says scrambling to his words.
"You have an empathy disorder, Will. You ignore your instability and keep doing what makes you unstable. That's the abuse I am referring to." Hannibal responds quickly.
"Let's say I am being abused... I.. I am to far in the waters to swim back now. " Will sounds of a struggle to get those words out.
"Hm.. How deep in the waters are you then, Will? " Hannibal asks, his eyes boring into the back of Will's neck.
"Much farther than knee deep. My chin is just touching the surface of the water...and I don't know how to swim. "