Fandom One-shots

Aš Tave Myliu (Hannigram)

Will pinched the bridge of his nose while Hannibal simply stood in the doorway, his expression completely passive.

He was carrying his lunch box, which Will knew was much more than a lunch box. It was how Hannibal brought home whatever he harvested from his victims. Lungs. Hearts. Livers. He'd brought home a pair of eyes once (Will hadn't touched those).

"Alright," Will took a deep breath, as if to calm himself. He was, of course, far from calm. "Who was it this time?"

"Father Todner."

"The priest?!" Will hissed. "Hannibal, he's a — was a highly esteemed — he was — he's popular around here. You can't just —"

"He was stealing the donations to the church, Will. He was a thief." Hannibal moved to their small kitchen.

They were currently staying in a small town on the border of Sweden and Norway. They never stayed in one spot for too long, and Hannibal had agreed not to kill anyone in the immediate vicinity of whatever town they were staying in. This was the first time he'd broken his promise. Well, the first time Will knew of, at least.

And yet, Will couldn't find it in himself to be too mad. He never could. That was likely because he was always, in some degree, angry with the psychologist.

Will sighed and followed Hannibal into the kitchen. They weren't married, as it was, but it was a better story to say they were. The other narratives they had come up with had always sounded so . . . fake. With their story of course, came the props. Hannibal had a silver ring on his finger and Will bore a gold one on his.

It had been years since Hannibal and Will had escaped off the side of the cliff. Since then, they traveled around Europe, Asia, and had stayed amongst the Gambier Islands for a few weeks.

Hannibal had promised Will that the islands would be safe. They were simply a stopping point for the two that Hannibal would not touch with his murder. As far as Will knew, he'd kept his promise.

Hannibal offered Will a small smile as he entered the kitchen. A genuine smile from Hannibal was rare enough that Will felt nearly required to return it. So he did.

"Jack is getting closer," Hannibal said after a rather peaceful silence. "He knows we're in town, Will."

"I know." Will frowned. "We should leave soon."

This wasn't the first time Jack Crawford had seemly cornered Will and Hannibal. He'd done the same in Bayeux, Mainz, Reading, and Wexford. And, each time, Hannibal and Will had managed to leave without him ever truly finding them.

He was a man obsessed, that Jack Crawford. He'd been trailing the two men for the past three years and, surprisingly, he'd been getting closer too. Jack must've sensed how near he was to Hannibal and Will, as his frantic search seemed to poison the air around the town.

"We are not leaving this time," Hannibal finally looked up to meet Will's eyes. For the first time, Will realized just how tired Hannibal was. They'd been running for a long time and it was finally taking its toll.

"What?" Will was furious to find a hint of fear in his voice.

Hannibal stepped away from the counter and towards the younger man. He grabbed his hands and Will tensed. Hannibal was rarely affectionate. He showed it in other ways. Dinner dates, he'd composed a few songs for Will, drawings, and spontaneous mutterings of 'Aš tave myliu'. Hannibal had never told Will what that meant, but Will could guess.

He, however, rarely reached for Will's hand. He rarely kissed Will. He rarely hugged Will. And that was fine. Will really didn't mind. In a way, he preferred it that way. It was almost as if he could convince himself that he was distancing himself from the evil that was Hannibal Lecter while still allowing himself to love the man.

Hannibal's hand was warm. That always surprised Will. He expected him to be cold and hard, like marble or stone. And yet, he radiated warmth. A likely comparison could be that he was warm like the fires of Hell.

"We are not leaving, William," Hannibal finally breathed, drawing Will close. "Jack will come to us. And, if he tries to hurt you or me, we will kill him. If he tries to bring us back, we will kill him."

Will, finally growing accustomed to Hannibal's touch, leaned forward. "So, we're killing Jack?"

Hannibal grinned. "Yes, Will. We are killing Jack." Hannibal's lips slowly drew closer to Will's. "He is the only one after us. The only one that still believes we are alive." Hannibal's lips brushed against Will's ever so slightly. "And once he is gone, Will, we will be free."

Will brought his hands up to Hannibal's arm, finding a comfortable position as Hannibal's lips settled against his own. Hannibal grinned, lifting his own hand to rest gently in the curve of Will's neck.

Hannibal, for a man as tall and, well, deadly as he was, had always been surprisingly gentle. At least, he had been the few times he'd kissed Will. It was as if he was holding glass. A teacup, perhaps? Will mused. Scared to let me shatter.

Hannibal's other hand curved around Will's back, pulling him closer so that their bodies were flushed together. Will could feel the electricity buzzing through him. It was a strange and horrible thing. This is pure manipulation. He reminded himself. And, yet, I don't care.

And the door was thrown open.

"Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham you're under —" Jack froze, his gun raised, as he saw Will, pushed up against Hannibal. They were no longer kissing.

And Will would've moved, he really would've, but Hannibal's hands held him in place. The hand on Will's back slowly moved so that it was between them. And, for one heart-stopping moment, Will thought Hannibal was about to further their intimacy at a time like this.

That is, until he drew a gun from the front of his pants. Will fought the urge to laugh (now really wasn't the time). So, it really was a gun . . . Will thought, a strange sense of euphoria bubbling inside of him.

Will's body blocked Jack from seeing the gun. He, evidently, assumed the same thing Will had first assumed. "Don't you dare, Lecter. You're coming with me!" Hannibal smiled and looked down at Will as if asking for permission.

Will smiled back and, almost instantly, the gunshot was ringing in his ears.

For one painstakingly long moment, Will felt as though his heart had stopped. He could feel a pressure against his back and he waited desperately for the pain of the bullet to kick in. After a moment, when he felt nothing more than the warmth of Hannibal's hand against his shirt, he relaxed.

And, to Will's amusement, Hannibal leaned down once more. "Where were we?"

Will laughed and finally pushed himself away. He moved over towards Jack's wheezing body and wasn't surprised when he felt only annoyance at the blood spreading over the carpet.

"Why?" Jack's hand was gripped firmly over his bleeding stomach. "Why'd — why'd you leave?"

Hannibal stepped forward so that he was standing next to Will. He handed him the gun.

Will took careful aim. His hands no longer shook when he pointed a gun. He no longer saw Hobbs. It was just Jack. And Jack Crawford had been ruining their lives for long enough.

"Good question, Jack. I'll tell you when I figure it out."

"Say hello to Bella for me," Hannibal grinned.

And Will pulled the trigger.