Fire Meet Gasoline [HANNIGRAM]

chapter one

A/N: Greetings! This idea came to me at four am and wouldn't leave me alone so this sort of happened. The title is from Sia's song Fire Meet Gasoline (listen to it while thinking of hannigram).

I would just like to warn you all that my writing tends to be fluff or angst or a weird combination of both, and I've never really written action/violence so bear with me if it's not the best - everyone has to start somewhere

Feel free to yell at me on here or over on tumblr (snaxo) if this starts to look too much like a retell or people are too OOC.

WARNINGS for: graphic violence, explicit sex, kind of major character death, cannibalism, minor homophobia, and erotic murder based dirty talk when we reach that part

Disclaimer: I don't own NBC Hannibal.

flame you came to me

fire meet gasoline

fire meet gasoline

i'm burning alive

The door opens with a loud bang, the sound reverberating throughout the empty hallway. It goes unnoticed; the adrenaline pumping in your veins, the too loud sound of your heartbeat in your ears, drowns everything else out. You follow his movements and travel swiftly to the kitchen, stopping dead when you see him; knife to a whimpering girl's throat, an all too familiar gleam in his eyes.

Your hands are, in the literal sense, already covered in blood. They tremble as you point the gun, silently pleading with him to, at the very least, spare the girl.

It's almost as if he smiles at you, mocks you, when he pulls the knife across her throat with an expert's ease.

You don't wait for him to do any more damage. You pull the trigger; once, twice, ten times. The sound of the gun can't be ignored, each shot shocks through your body from head to toe, and you can't help but feel—

Will wakes with a start at the annoying buzz of a phone vibrating against wood, at the series of bings, loud in his otherwise silent bedroom, indicating a phone call. Groaning, he reaches blindly for the rectangular device, fingers curling around it and bringing it to his ear.

"Will Graham."

x

"Special Agent Jack Crawford, FBI. May I come in?"

Hannibal's eyes flash over the identification card, the badge, and he nods, forcing a polite smile to his face. He pushes the door inwards and allows Jack to enter before him, watching as the other man takes in his office décor.

"May I ask what this is about?"

"Alana didn't tell you?" Jack asks, but doesn't wait for a reply. "Dr. Bloom showed me some of you work, it's very impressive. She recommended I get your assistance with one of my employees. Will Graham," he says, as if the name is supposed to mean anything to Hannibal.

"How would I be of assistance?"

"I need your help with a psychological profile. Will has a," he pauses, contemplating. "Unique skill. He can get inside the heads of serial killers, empathise with them."

Hannibal's interest peaks and he tilts his head to the side slightly, "You're worried for his wellbeing."

Jack nods, "He just killed a man. Shot him ten times. He's been a bit off since then, and he won't speak with anyone. I was hoping you'd be able to talk to him."

"You want me to determine his stability?"

"If you would."

Hannibal smiles softly, "I'm free seven-thirty tomorrow evening. If he agrees, I'll see him then."