Double-edged Sword

Will Graham has walked a fine line between sanity and insanity his entire life. Being a pure empath will do that to you. He has for the most part been met with scorn and distrust; most of his colleagues believe him to be just as much of a psychopath as the murderers he helps catch. Sometimes he even believed them. But when he met Hannibal Lecter he discovered that the psychiatrist was not just interested in his strange mind, he seemed to revere it.

It was common for psychiatrists to be fascinated by Will's unique condition from a professional point of view. To be able to go into the mindset of someone else, so fully, so completely, to be able to feel what they feel, it fascinated them to no end. He was the perfect specimen to write about for the advancement of their careers.

But Hannibal referred to Will's condition as "a gift". He was unorthodox in that respect to say the least. And some small part of Will was not only comforted by it, but also happy that someone didn't perceive him as a threat or a mind to dissect, but had a more personal curiosity in regards to his mind. This was his undoing, Will thought, that he had trusted Hannibal because he hadn't approached him like the others had; with professional ambition. He was undone because of the seeming friendship underlying in those conversations. And, technically that was all they had in the beginning; conversations. Dr. Hannibal Lecter didn't actually become Will Graham's official psychiatrist until it was too late. Until he had already nestled into Will's mind. Until Will had trusted him, blindly.

Hannibal had gained his friendship, his trust, his affection. Hannibal was just as interested in Will as Will was in him. This was his undoing.
He had never seen it coming. Hannibal was just there one day, and the next it seemed perfectly normal for Will to confide in him, to trust and rely on him. This was his undoing.

It took a few weeks after the incident at Hannibal's house before Will Graham felt comfortable enough to talk to anyone. To even open his mouth after such a fatality had seemed an impossibility even greater than when he had first started suspecting that his best friend and psychiatrist had committed all those crimes then framed him for them. To speak to anyone had seemed like a harder task than to deal with the fact that his best friend had knowingly deceived him, toyed with his mind and memory and let him suffer a decease easily cured with modern medicine.

He had found the shattered teacup had come together and before he could even process such an idea, he realized that although he had tried to warn Hannibal and told him to leave, that the man had stayed, only to shatter the teacup once more right before Will's very eyes. Hannibal sliced him and their adoptive daughter Abigail, for not living up to his expectations. He slit Abigail's throat because she had failed to kill Alana Bloom, and only knocked her out, unseen from behind. Probably to protect her, Will thought. As for Will Hannibal had wounded him the way he himself was feeling; gut wrenched. Will hated the fact that he understood this.

Alana had distanced herself from Will since the incident. She probably didn't need a reminder of how she had given herself to a known cannibalistic murderer, Alana, who so rarely dated or had relationships of the sexual or romantic sort. Will supposed his face only reminded her of Hannibal, the way everyone seemed to be reminded of Hannibal whenever he was close. Not only for this reason did Will close himself off, seal himself away at his house surrounded only by his canine companions. And Abigail. Abigail had, against all odds, survived. "It was surgical" she said as she visited him in the hospital bed, sitting by his side, pressing her hand to his.

"They said it was the same with you." She said, but no smile touched her lips

"He wanted us to live."

Will Graham doesn't know what frightens him the most; the fact that he is the sole interest to a cannibalistic psychopath that pretended to be his friend, or the fact that he misses said cannibalistic psychopath every single day since they parted.

Being friends with Dr. Hannibal Lecter is a double-edged sword. There is no escaping the pointy end however much you twist it.

"Do you know the concept of a double-edged sword, Abigail?" Will asked the girl walking next to him, her big blue eyes, seemingly innocent peered up at him and she shook her head in negation.

"It refers to something that has or can have both favorable and unfavorable consequences" Will explained. Abigail seemed to follow his train of thought.

"Do you think your relationship with Dr. Lecter is a double-edged sword?" she asked her voice weak and her eyes looking down at her feet. It didn't surprise Will that she immediately knew he was talking about Hannibal, even though they had been trying to chat about other things for a while now. He supposed they were, in a sense, always talking about Hannibal. They certainly always thought about him. Getting stabbed by someone you trust will do that to you, Will thought rationally.

"You'd make a good psychiatrist" Will smiled warmly at her, and her cheeks blushed even in the cold autumn air. They were walking together in a park, catching up as they usually did after they survived that bloody night when they were both stabbed by the same man who broke their hearts and their trusts and left them literally bleeding on the floor.

"Perish the thought" she said, her voice having gained ground at the jest.

"Does that mean that you still..." Abigail hesitated before continuing, as if she didn't want Will to suffer the memories, or because she was unsure if he felt the same as her "..that you still see the good parts in befriending Dr. Lecter?"

Will considered this for a few seconds before answering "I think it's important that we remember that everything Hannibal did for us that might have seemed friendly was all part of his manipulation. But yes, sometimes I do think about the more pleasant memories, however few there are." Will's lips twisted into a bittersweet smile.

Abigail seemed relieved at his answer, she let out a breath she had been holding, thinking that if Will was thinking it too, then maybe she wasn't so screwed up for missing Hannibal.

"Do you miss him?" she asked outright, her blue eyes peering up at Will who stopped in his tracks, but didn't seem offended or surprised by her question. He just stood there quietly, scanning her features, realizing she was on the brink of tears. He pulled her into a tight hug, stroking her hair in a fatherly fashion, wouldn't Hannibal have loved this moment, Will thought bitterly to himself.

"Yes" he murmured "I do miss him."