Compassion

Changes

A/N: Hey guys! This chapter is a bit longer to hopefully make up for last week. Also, the moment they (finally) get over themselves and make a leap.  FINAL WARNING FOR SMUT! Feel free to skip it if it's not your cup of tea; I'll summarize any plot you'll have missed at the end of the chapter.  This is my first smut, so please let me know what you guys think, and what I can do better. 

Without further ado...

Everything with Hannibal seemed to happen one of two ways: he was either incredible gentle or raw aggression. There was hardly any in-between. He was wild and unpredictable and could go from cold and calculating to fire and blood within moments; yet he always seemed to maintain that calm detached clarity. Arguing with him was no different. Will mused on this as he stared at the ceiling and thought about the previous night's events. He really shouldn't have been so surprised.

Bedelia had attacked them during dinner.

It wasn't amazingly startling to have the meat fork vanish from the table while the two men were in the kitchen preparing the finishing touches. It wasn't a shock when she lunged the best she could at Hannibal in an attempt to stab him with said fork while he served her food. It was a surprise when she landed her shot – just not where she aimed. The fork sank into the cannibal's bicep. He jerked away on reflex, grasping her wrist and twisting it back so she let go of the improvised weapon before Will could jump in.

"That was rude," Hannibal said, removing the utensil from his arm. He wiped the tines with her napkin before setting it back into its place. Will's lips pressed together in disapproval but he didn't speak. He opted instead to remain in the doorway and keep an eye on both Bedelia and Hannibal as the older man returned to the kitchen and casually wrapped the two punctures as though he'd merely cut his thumb sharpening a knife.

When he finished they took their seats and ate as if nothing had happened. Will could feel his annoyance crackling into anger the longer they continued, though he made an effort to continue to keep his calm exterior. He'd grown used to being a blank canvas, beginning to understand why his former psychologist had turned into such a calculated killer.

Once they'd finished eating Hannibal escorted Bedelia back to her room, where he drugged her and strapped her down so she couldn't try to escape or contact anybody. Will was washing dishes when he returned from his task. "Perhaps we should disarm her tomorrow night," Hannibal said, collecting napkins and folding them before setting them in the laundry pile.

Will seethed. "Or we could not give her sharp objects."

Hannibal looked at him. "If you are uncomfortable with giving her basic utensils I can continue to serve her dinner."

"That's not the point!" Will slammed on of the dishes into the other sink. He hadn't let his temper go like this in a long time. "She could have killed you had her aim been better!"

"Francis shot me and stabbed you, but here we are."

"Because we killed him!" Will shouted, spinning around and glaring at his companion.

Hannibal maintained his calm demeanor, but the former teacher could see the rising anger in his eyes. A different man would have let it go rather than risk rousing the psychologist's ire. Will was not stupid, but he was also unafraid. "We shouldn't risk the liability," he said, voice dropping back to a normal volume.

"No," Hannibal said firmly, but refused to explain.

There was a tense silence as the pair stared at each other, dishes forgotten. Hannibal's eyes flicked down to his companion's lips. Will's heart pounded as he and the killer continued their stare-down, though the tension in the air had vastly changed. He'd read somewhere that eye contact maintained for more than 6 seconds denoted either sexual desire or the wish to commit homicide. With Hannibal it could very well mean both.