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Chapter Text

Sometimes Will thinks that the day is never going to end. He's been feeling sick for weeks on end now, and with constant headaches he's beginning to wonder if it's actually something like an infection. He's had a sinus infection before and while the symptoms aren't the most similar, but that time it had also taken him a long time to pinpoint what was actually wrong. His dad had always made fun of him for being stupid like that when he was a child, but Will is sure it has something to do with certain neurodivergent tendencies he has.

He's very emotionally empathetic to other people, but often struggles with himself. Even pain is something he easily forgets about. It's an out of sight out of mind sort of thing, and as long as he keeps popping aspirin then he forgets about it. No one cares about the excessive sweating anyways, his colleagues probably just think he needs to bath more or wear a bit deodorant! Life moves on and it doesn't matter if Will Graham feels ill or not.

"You are in need of medical attention." A voice says suddenly from Will left, drawing him out of his thoughts.

That's it, what started it all. Will had heard those words and then a dark canvas bag had been roughly shoved over his head. He had fought, but had not been feeling his best and slow movements hadn't been enough against whomever the fuck jumped him in the dark that night. He just been leaving a crime scene and the worst part was there was probably 30 cops and FBI agents down an alleyway to the right. Less than 20 feet away!

Will strongly suspected that no one heard a thing, even though he'd done his best to yell for help. He'd also done his best the scratch at his kidnapper, wanting DNA under his fingernails if nothing else. DNA from scraping an attacker solved so many cases. Granted, they would have to find his body for that to happen.

Will's attacker was wearing some sort of plastic layer of protection no matter where Will tried to get at. That was both smart and would be funny with a joke about a human condom if Will wasn't being kidnapped by said person. Right now it just seemed scary. No amount of training would ever have prepared Will for someone to come forward out of nowhere, take his sight away and restrain him.

Scarier yet, Will was physically hauled off his feet and though he struggled was tossed over a shoulder. This had to look ridiculous if anyone caught it from a street camera. Shit, Will was very aware that there had been no cameras because they'd already been here to view a body which had been dumped there for that very reason. Was this the same killer? Was Will going to be a fucking convenience kill? Will had always imaged dying to a murderer who was fascinated with Will's work or had a hatred for the FBI or maybe even teachers in general. Dying because it was easy to pick him off was just irritating.

Will tried his best from his position to knee his assailant in the head, but didn't really get anywhere. Without vision and being slightly hung upside down it was all very disorienting, and he wasn't really sure where he was aiming at. Will cursed himself for not taking more self-defense courses in his life. Sure he taken one or two, but apparently he should've gone more in depth for other situations. Why the fuck was he here and not carrying a gun! Well, he knew he didn't have a gun because he wasn't technically an FBI agent, but he should've insisted taking one as it would be dangerous or having a guard walk him back to his car apparently. All of those things are hindsight 2020 of course.

His wiggling around got him a swat to the ass. Like he was being spanked for being an unruly child. Will couldn't exactly say why, but that was almost worse than being actually hurt and twice as insulting. And he wasn't exactly light, so how exactly was this person (He was pretty sure a man judging by the voice and stature, but that didn't rule out that there was secretly more then one assailant) picking him up so easily? Was his kidnapper a fucking bodybuilder, or someone who just knew the trade of what it was like slinging bodies about?!

Will was beginning to feel panic strike through his body. This wasn't going to end well. He wasn't going to be able to get away like this. Will bit down on his own lip until he tasted blood to distract himself from such horrible thoughts.

There was a moment where he heard as a trunk of a car being opened. Will try one more time to screech out for help, but didn't get far. He was thrown into the trunk. He fought to get back up, even with his face covered, but a hand smashed into it him and pushed him back down. The bag was pulled up slightly as if his attacker had scented the way Will was now bleeding, but not enough to let Will see. The hand paused the wipe at his bloodied lip softly, and Will bit at the fingers in desperation. The person flinched and Will teeth dug into two fingers the best he could. The man's other hand came down to press Will back and to force him to let go.

"Another time Mylimasis." The man says, like that makes any god damned sense to Will at all. And why is his voice constantly so gentle while the actions are the complete opposite? There is something deeply wrong with this man who is currently kidnapping Will.

The distinct sound of duct tape echoed in Will's brain and his wrists were bound together, looping over and over again. Will was now crying under the sack bag that was covering his vision. Every second that passes, Will loses a little bit more hope that someone will catch this man in the act.

"You should be good for me Dr. Graham. I might just be saving your life." The man spoke with an accent that we couldn't exactly place. Like he was from some kind of European country, but had been in America for 20 some years and just stubbornly refused to lose all of the accent. His words made no sense. And he knew exactly who Will was which made it worse or better. He's been picked up for a reason. "And you've injured your beautiful lip. That wasn't part of the plan darling."

Will doesn't like being called Darling by a man who has brazenly kidnapped him off the street. He doesn't like it one bit. He expresses this by sobbing loudly as it becomes completely apparent that he won't be getting away. And then after a minute or so of crying his shuts down and stops altogether. It's not getting him anywhere so what even was the point?

"Good Will, don't cry. You're in my care now, so all is going to be well." The man shushes him.

The trunk was closed on top of him and then he was wedged there, just stuck in the dark. This was probably the most terrifying thing that had ever happened to him, and it didn't end for a very long time. Before they started moving, Will heard very distinct sound of a gunshot within the vicinity of the car. He tried kicking the walls of the trunk to maybe get somebody's attention, but after a minute, it felt like a waste of energy. And then that didn't matter because the car engine started up and they started moving anyways. Maybe the FBI had been been after the actual killer that they've been there to see. This guy was completely different. An unknown.

Wherever Will was being transported to, it was not near the crime scene he been at. Probably in a different city altogether. It was strange that his mind was still trying to put together all the pieces even in this terrifying situation. Will never told anybody he was a doctor. Most of the FBI either called him Will or Mr. Graham, not knowing otherwise. He did have a few articles out that he had written and there was of course his dissertation. He didn't think that TattleCrime posted anything about him being a doctorate, but he also couldn't be sure, as Will preferred not to read Freddie Lounds work. He hated that woman.

What feels like forever later, the car comes to a halt. The trunk opened just a minute after that and Will stays still for a moment. He wanted to know what the assailant would do if he thought he accidentally smothered Will. He tries not to move at all, even going as far as holding his breath. That ends it up being the correct decision because the bag was ripped off of his head, fast.

Will can't help his flinch. His eyes were assaulted by the light that he gone so long without. Of course it was a man he didn't recognize, but at least now Will knows what the man look like. A hand wraps neatly around his neck, tilted his head back and then to the side and then to the other side. And then the man seemed to breathe out in a sigh of relief that he hasn't accidentally injured Will more than the bloody lip. He let go of Will's neck, almost gently and pet Will's out of place hair instead.

"Do not scare me like that Will, I was worried something had happened to you." He says gently.

Will could argue that something has indeed happened to him, as he had been kidnapped. He doesn't though, mostly because he's worried about that hand going right back around his neck.

"Come, let me help you out. If you are more agreeable now I will let you walk on your own instead of carrying you."

Will blink. Things just weren't adding up in his head anymore. Maybe this man wasn't a murderer? Maybe he was just extremely mentally unstable and a fan? If he didn't mean Will any harm, it wouldn't be so bad to go with him until Will could get access to a phone and call someone for help. Then again, going to a third location after already being driven to a second location with a strange man was probably not a good idea.

Options were limited though, so Will just slightly let the man pull him out of the trunk and tries to get his feet under him. At least the bag isn't over his head anymore. His hands are still covered in duct tape, though that was probably so he didn't try to bust out of the trunk. It wasn't all mental illness as some forethought and planning had clearly gone into this. Will couldn't get a read on the man.

The man put his arm around Will's waist to support him as they walked up the steps to an extremely fancy looking home. Maybe this man was rich and that had something to do with his mental illness, Will could reason. Maybe he had some kind of caretaker or Butler in the house that could sort this all out for Will. Maybe he wasn't supposed to be out in public alone and had gone out anyways.

There was no one. Why would there be? That would've been too easy for Will. He was instead led to a bedroom that had an entire medical bed with machines set up, all ready to go. Now, Will hadn't fought in the entire way while walking there, but the medical surprise scared him again. He tried to escape and fought against the hold around him again. The man picked him off his feet by the grip around his waist and simply flung him towards the bed. Will bounces twice unpleasantly on the soft plus mattress. It knocks all the air out of his lungs.

"As I said before, you are in need of medical assistance, have no fear. I am a doctor. We will get you better, Dr Graham."

"And I'm just supposed to believe that you're a doctor?" Will growls out, feeling defensive. He's had about enough of this. It has been an extremely long day for him and on top of everything else he'd been kidnapped. It had been weeks upon weeks since he got any uninterrupted sleep, and his headaches have been the worst.

"My name is Doctor Hannibal Lecter. I've been following your work for the better part of two years. Over the last four months you've had a steady decline of health that no one around you or yourself has taken notice of. A few tests will be necessary, but I believe you have a a case of advanced encephalitis. It most likely originated from a mosquito bite or tick bite while you were out fishing."

It would've been more comfortable if Hannibal was speaking while not constricting Will's wrists into leather cuffs the are attached onto the bed, ensuring there would be no escape.

"Rest now, and leave everything to me."

That last sentence was accompanied with a needle that clearly had some kind of drug in it. Will was out in less than a minute after that. Comfortable even if it was against his own will.

Chapter Text

Will wakes up with the worst headache of this fucking life. It's like some kind of horror movie where you just came out of a coma after being nothing but a vegetable for years. Except there's no medical personal or even family around him. Will in a daze looks around and barely recognizes anything.

A fancy bed with extremely looking medical equipment. Two matching hardwood dressers that Will could easily believe were over a hundred years old even though they were in perfect condition. A book shelf that had some of his favorite titles on it, a couple books that Will had been thinking about reading and what looks to be every textbook he'd ever had to use for his schooling. Will had been spring cleaning last year and had finally decided to get rid of all his. Now, these could be different ones but something tells Will that they aren't. This Hannibal man was definitely a stalker and had been watching, following and probably digging through his trash and following him to buy what he donated to charity shops for over a year. Will hadn't even noticed. If Will wasn't so exhausted he'd be a lot more worried.

He's still in his stalker's house. The one who kidnapped him from a crime scene. The one who picked him up and flung him over a shoulder like Will weighed nothing. He has no way of knowing how long it's been, though there is a window and he can see that it's dark inside from that. That doesn't mean that it's the same day. It probably isn't, given how dry his mouth is.

He has an IV in his wrist, so he's probably getting a steady supply of drugs. There's a rather professional bag attached to it next to the bed. It's rather strange because even if this Hannibal had told him twice that he was getting medical attention, Will hadn't really believed him. Why would he after being shoved in a trunk with a bag over his head? That was something that could be called a breach of trust.

There's several pictures of Will on the wall. He's fishing in one of them with his back turned while the dogs are puttering around the bank. It's beautiful and artistic; Will doesn't even know when it was taken. His head shot from his FBI ID is also hanging, though it's not in the best quality since it's been enlarged. This is probably just a guest room too, it very likely Hannibal has more pictures in other rooms of the house.

Will wiggles a bit on the bed, but his wrists are still frustratingly, enclosed into leather cuffs that keep him from moving too much. He looks to the side and sees a picture frame on the night table next to the bed. It has Hannibal's picture in it. Is it a simple of watching over him or does Hannibal want to be the last thing Will sees before going to bed? Either way, it's creepy.

There must've been a camera or some kind of monitor on him, because it doesn't take long before Hannibal is opening the door. He smiles sweetly at Will like Will has come here to be treated naturally. Like Will came to him and asked for his help, instead of this fucked up kidnapping.

"Will, I was hoping you would wake up soon. I'm happy to let you know that your treatment has been responding well and in just another few weeks, you will be well enough to get out of bed again." Hannibal says completely professional. Though, the way that his eyes wander freely over Will's body is anything but professional. Will is wearing pajamas at the very least, though Hannibal was probably the one who put him in them. There had better not be any sickly and naked photos of Will floating around this house in the near future!

Will pauses and doesn't even bother to mentioning that his head hurts. "Did you just say a few more weeks? How long is it fucking been?" He might've been shouting, but that was only because he was angry at the world and Hannibal.

"Please Will, keep the foul language and swearing to a minimum. It is unbecoming of a man of your intellect." Hannibal answers rather strictly. "I can find such things as rather rude."

Will pauses and looks over Hannibal's face saying that he's completely serious. Will nods mostly because (slightly) he fears for his life and the mental instability of this man who has kidnapped him. Just because Hannibal has been treating him well up until this moment doesn’t mean everything can’t change rapidly. It's a case of don't bite the hand who feeds you or in this case don't insult the man who has you bound to a bed.

"As for your worries over how long it's taking, you were rather ill. It is rather unfortunate that I waited so long, but I was hoping that you would naturally seek out medical care. Every day that you did not, my worries for you only heightened. Until opportunity showed that if I didn't wish for you to die, I would have to deal with it myself." Hannibal explains calmly.

"So you were stalking me." Will says with a sigh. Now that he could really believe. It had practically already been confirmed by this point but this was Hannibal admitting it. He hadn't noticed anyone following him or eyes on him or anything of that sort; but with his headaches and sometimes hallucinations, it probably wasn't all that shocking that he didn't notice.

Hannibal pauses as if insulted by Will's words. "I wouldn't call at that." He insists, like saying that could erase the fact that he was actually stalking Will. He looks embarrassed.

"That's funny because I think it's exactly what it is." Will grumbles. " I don't care if you didn't stand outside my windows at night, keeping check over my health when I don't know who you are would still be stalking."

"..." Hannibal doesn't say anything in that moment and that gives Will even more pause. The ‘you’ve got to be kidding me’ thought circling through his mind on loop at this point.

"Did you stand outside my windows at night?" He asks. Maybe it would be better if we didn't know, but his mouth got away from his mind. That’s what stalkers did so he isn’t sure why he’s surprised. It’s probably all the worse that Will had been sleeping on the first floor because he’d been feeling lonely and not all the dogs could deal with the stairs.

"Only a few times." Hannibal answers with a put out sniffle. He clearly wasn't too proud of what he was doing and was aware that it was stalking, but maybe he didn't care. Maybe that was the mental instability part. Will hopes this man is an actual doctor and this hasn’t been some elaborate lie where he gets to die at the end because Hannibal’s best wasn’t good enough.

"The dogs didn’t bark at you?" Will is less mad than curious. Which is probably a point in Hannibal's favor.

"They did the first few times." Hannibal continues to answer everything that Will wants to know. This brings comfort to him. "After a few treats and pets, they were no longer disagreeable to my presence."

"That sounds an awful lot like it was more than a few times." Will points out. He can’t believe the audacity of this man!

Hannibal looks down at the floor like he wasn't expecting to be called out even though he had just told the lie. Will gets the distinct feeling that Hannibal thinks that everyone around him is stupid. Will is not stupid. Even when sick or denying that he was sick, he would never be considered stupid. In a scientific mind magazine a couple months ago he was called the greatest criminal profiler of the generation. He wonders if Hannibal had that article frame somewhere in the house.

"Watching you has brought meaning to my life over the last couple of years." Hannibal relents.

There's this rather unfortunate thought in the back of Will's mind that the Chesapeake Ripper has not been active in just over two years. It's an awful lot of the conclusion to jump to, but Will likes to trust his instincts. He has been going back-and-forth whether this Hannibal man was really dangerous and was beginning to settle on that Yes he was. Yes with a capital letter, maybe even all caps from all the red flags Will has been noticing. Maybe he is not dangerous to Will, but other people; absolutely.

“And what of both my job and my dogs? If I've been here for weeks already, somebody must've declared me missing.” Will is hesitant to ask because he truly fears the answer. For all he knows, Hannibal could have taken a sample of his blood and hair and brought it back to the crime scene. The FBI could have jumped to conclusions with that a declared him dead.

"I emailed the FBI for you in all proper channels, and with the doctors note I provided with my name on it. No one suspects that you were doing anything but recovering in an undisclosed hospital. For your dogs I have hired a sitter. I know how much you care for them so the process was very tedious. They have over 300 5 star reviews and are living in your house while you are away, simply keeping things as they are. I flew them in from out of state."

Will's head feels like it spins a bit. "You flew a dog sitter in from out of state because of good reviews? How the am I supposed to pay for that?" Is now that time that they have to talk about money? Will can practically feel his blood pressure rising.

“There is no need for you to pay for it, just consider it a gift from me. Just like there will be no medical expenses. All that I want in return is that you get healthy and return to your normal existence." Hannibal finally offers him a smile.

"Really? You're not gonna insist that we meet after this?" Will kind of wishes the question didn’t come out of his mouth. That was not a sane thing for someone to ask their stalker!

Hannibal looks troubled for a moment. "I was very much happy looking in from the shadows before. Now that I have spoken to you, I find myself reluctant to even think about going back to how it was before. May I suggest that we become friends?"

"You kidnapped me, Hannibal. In what moment of logic would you come to us being able to be friends?" Will snaps.

"It was an unusual meeting between us, I'm aware. I am also aware that you are highly intelligent and therefore want you to know that I would be a wonderful equal for you to be around and converse with."

This Hannibal man clearly didn't have very many friends, and that was coming from Will. He dropped the subject for now, because pissing Hannibal off while bound to a bed and completely dependent on him seemed like a bad idea.

Instead, he let Hannibal bring him a bowl of soup to eat. He let Hannibal hand feed him every spoonful of soup. He let a straw be held to his mouth for sips of water. And he even let Hannibal brush his hair. He suspected that this man was doing most of this while he was not conscious anyways, so there was no point in fighting it while awake. Plus, Will thought it was nice to be receiving a little bit of pampering when he really didn’t feel good. He was usually a heat up a can of Campbell’s chicken noodle soup and then crash into bed for 12-14 hours kind of guy.

He wriggles a bit, but gets back comfortable in the bed once more as Hannibal fiddles with the IV after that.

"Good night." He mumbles as he closes his eyes once more.

"Goodnight my dear Will." Is the last thing that Will hears before he's once again out.

Chapter Text

It's hard to explain how Will feels while lying sick in an extremely comfortable bed. It perhaps would feel different if he was in an actual hospital rather than a room that Hannibal made up for him in his own house. He was cohabitating with his stalker and not even doing that bad. All in all, Will has been comfortable, well fed and enjoying things for his extended stay. Without the constant headaches, needles and IV attached to him it would feel like a vacation.

They had conversations nightly, though Hannibal always paid special attention to how Will was actually feeling and made sure they didn't go too long. They talked about Will's work. They talked about things that annoyed Hannibal with his own work. Will doesn't bring up how Hannibal is a serial killer in his free time. Will also doesn't bring up the fact that he heard Hannibal leave one night and then an hour later something that sounded an awful lot like muffled screaming and a struggle happen downstairs.

There has to be a murder basement. Hannibal would not being do that raw in his own kitchen. Will refuses to think more about it until he's feeling better.

Will hadn't slept a lot that night, up with anxiety over the thought that he'd let someone die. Now, Will could simply think that there wasn't much he could do to stop Hannibal's ways, but just sitting upstairs while it happened made him feel terrible about things. Was it someone that he knows? Did he still care about the death if it was someone who he'd never even met?

Will found every passing day that he cares less for the moral dilemma and more for the man who likes to spend all his time staring at Will like he hung the stars. Hannibal was a stalker, Hannibal had kidnapped him, Hannibal is now the best company (friend?) that Will has ever had in his life. that's probably not a good thing for Will.

It was distressing to find out that Hannibal was a psychiatrist for many different reasons. Well, he insisted that he had first been a doctor that worked in an emergency room, and had felt Will a bit better when Hannibal had brought up older paperwork to prove it. Not that Will had been particularly willing to argue against the facts given that Hannibal had been pumping drugs into him via IV for the last several weeks. At that point, if Hannibal hadn't really been a doctor and had been secretly killing Will through drugs, then there wasn't much he could've done.

"Thank you for showing this to me." Was all Will had been able to stomach saying when seeing the proof. His dry mouth had nothing to do with the fact that Hannibal's old hospital ID picture was among the files and he had been gorgeous. Not that he wasn't still gorgeous, but seeing a picture of Hannibal so young was still shocking.

Hannibal had smugly smiled like he somehow had known that Will would enjoy his picture. "You're welcome my darling."

Every day it seemed like things were escalating between them as Will tried his best to recover quickly. Hannibal got a little more hold with each allowance that Will gave him. Some mornings he woke up and Hannibal was sitting by his bedside with his sketchbook in hand. He never really brought that up, but he was sure that Hannibal had hundreds of drawings of him at this point. It was creepy, but did Will give a fuck about it in the large game of things? No. When living with a stalker, you apparently have to learn how to let things go.

If it made Hannibal happy to sit by Will's side and draw pictures of him, then Will was fine with that.  Well, he was fine with it with the exception of the one naked portrait Hannibal had showed him. He'd made Hannibal promise not to show anyone that one, or hang it on the wall. Hannibal had moped for hours that day, but Will letting him hold his hand while reading had fixed that.

The voice of reason in Will's brain told him repeatedly that giving in to Hannibal and appeasing him constantly was not a good idea. He had to remind himself that no matter how good Hannibal was taking care of him, that he was still only here because Hannibal had been stalking and had kidnapped him! He was just getting used to what felt like a forming relationship between them. Will couldn't help it, once he was comfortable with someone he was much better at being himself around them.

Which was why he felt very comfortable complaining to his stalker/housemate that he missed his dogs dearly.

They (together) called the sitter for his dogs on video chat just to see them. That itself had felt like a massive step forward for them. A real foundation of trust was forming between them, as Will could have tried to tell the man that he'd been kidnapped and was being held against his will. Hannibal had been on high alert through out the entire exchange but had softened every time Will spoke to one of his dogs lovingly. Afterwards Hannibal had practically melted as Will and thanked him and hugged him for letting it happen.

He didn't feel like he kidnapped most days besides the trauma of thinking about what had happened. Sure, some days he flinched when Hannibal reached for him too fast, but Will tried not to think much of it. He wasn't really scared of Hannibal, but he also was just aware that this man could kill him at any point in time he wanted.

He had never imagined that the Chesapeake Ripper would be so obviously obsessed with him, or anyone for that manner. It almost humanizes Hannibal, except for the fact that Will has been noticing that Hannibal seems to act different when it comes to Will. Kinder and more human. It was hard to explain, but he found that he didn't mind.

Just a couple days ago he'd watch Hannibal talk to a client over the phone. He'd watched angry and tense lines appear on Hannibal's face as he over and over again said it was inappropriate to be called like that by a client not having an emergency. That he would not simply okay billing for extra time because his client wanted to talk at 10 pm on a Friday night. That this was against client and doctor boundaries. It had gone on for twenty minutes before even Will had been annoyed.

"I think that you should..." Will trails off realizing that he was about to suggest to get rid of somebody. "...refer that person to someone else."

Hannibal had smiled at him softly and agreed readily. Will couldn't help but wonder what kind of reaction he would get if he'd suggested murder instead.

Will wasn't even sure it would be considered Stockholm syndrome and more of the fact that he's just gotten used to Hannibal.
Will has begun to even like the time that they spend together. It wasn't to the same extent that Hannibal clearly liked him, but at this point he would consider them friends. Will had never had a lot of friends in his life, so he hopes Hannibal appreciates the sentiment.

Will looks over at him now and gives Hannibal a small smile. Hannibal is reading a book out loud to Will. It's become a little bit of a routine to do so. Every night Hannibal flips open book to the exact page that Will last remembers hearing and starts reading from there. His accented voice makes for a nice story, though he isn't much interested in doing different kinds of voices for characters. Not that Will ever voices that out loud. It's just the last time he was read a bedtime story, his dad had definitely done that for him. Granted, he had been 6.

"Something else on your mind tonight?" Hannibal asks as soon as he catches the fact that Will is no longer paying attention to what he is saying. It's like Hannibal doesn't find the book very interesting unless Will is also enjoying it. The man pays way too close attention to everything about Will, but that probably isn't shocking given that this man is a stalker.

"Sorry, the headache is just extra bad." Will offers. That wasn't exactly the truth, but Will figured that Hannibal would let him get away with it. Hannibal seems to let him get away with a lot. He closed his eyes after to show that he wanted to fall asleep while Hannibal continued reading from their book. It was easy to actually fall asleep.

Will wakes from a nightmare that immediately leaves his mind and he jolts unpleasantly when he realizes he's not the only one in the bed. Instead of sitting off to the side beside Will, Hannibal is lounging next to him. This is certainly the first time that Will has awoken into this. It's shocking to Will's tired brain. Hannibal is obsessed with him. Hannibal is a stalker. Hannibal has crawled into bed and is staring at him and has probably been doing that for almost of every night since he's been here.

Honestly, Will should just stop being shocked about things. Life would be so much easier if he didn't let Hannibal catch him off guard repeatedly. Will reaches up and rubs at his tired eyes, but Hannibal grasps his palm and pulls it away from his face. Will automatically pouts like a scolded child.

"It is better if you don't do that, darling. As a doctor, I could recommend washing your face with a cool clean cloth or towel and freshwater after a full night of sleep." Hannibal says, like he thinks he's being helpful to Will's life.

"What might be better is if I didn't wake up with an unexpected guest in my bed." Will says with an increasing level of sass. It is much too early in the morning to be dealing with things like this. Hannibal is always slightly annoying, but it's worse early in the morning.

Hannibal just seems to ignore this, but that doesn't shock Will. He seems to just ignore anything inconvenient to him and that would keep him away from Will. Hannibal probably fantasizes about Will listening to his advice at this point.

"Would you prefer orange juice or some coffee with breakfast this morning?" Hannibal asks as he gets up off the bed. He makes a show of turning his back to Will and stretching his limbs up above his head. Will feels like he should've noticed before this moment that Hannibal hadn't been wearing a shirt and only wearing pajama pants. He clearly been there sleeping all night or not sleeping and just staring at Will. How many nights have they been sharing a bed without Will even realizing it?

Will tries not to take notice that the muscles of Hannibal's back are impressive. He must swim. Will doesn't exactly know much about the athletic body, but he's seen enough dead bodies to know that Hannibal would work out between three and five times a week consistently to maintain such a figure. Then Will blinks those thoughts away. Did Hannibal actually just offer him coffee?

"Coffee please." This is the first time that he's been offered coffee since he got here. Last week he asked for it once and was denied as Hannibal thought he wasn't well enough and that it wouldn't mesh well with his drugs. It had been the only time that Hannibal had denied him something that was politely asked for. Does this mean that he's on a lower dose or has changed to something new?

"Of course my love." Is what Hannibal answers. Because of course he does. Will is even starting to get used to such nicknames and over-the-top gestures. It's not something that he particularly cares about. Hannibal just calls him love or darling or something over the top like that because he can.

His coffee comes to him just 10 minutes later. It's perfect. Two sugars and half of a shot of cream. Now, most of the time Will admittedly drinks his coffee black because he's too lazy to get all the ingredients that he prefers. But every once in a while and particularly when he's not feeling good, he likes a sweet coffee like this. Hannibal had not asked what he preferred this morning, and had just known. Hannibal always just seems to know.

Will take the slip and smiles. He missed coffee. Hannibal pulls a chair close with his own coffee and hand. He's not drinking his. He's actually just watching Will, not even blinking like he's afraid he will miss something.

Will doesn't roll his eyes at the blatant display. Perhaps he's starting to accept. This might be his life now.

"This is really good thank you." He politely says to Hannibal. The smile that Hannibal gives him in return is radiant.

Chapter Text

There's comes a point where Will feels much better. He'd even call himself well rested and in good health. His life had narrowed down to be just him and Hannibal, and Will didn't mind it. Going back to his high stress work environment gives him anxiety to even think about, which is hilarious because he's been homing with a kidnapper/serial killer.

Hannibal had been in bed with him up much more frequently after the first time Will had caught him. He had no shame, and truth be told Will never bother led to shoo him away. More than once since the IV had come out had Will awoken to be a slightly crushed small spoon on the bed. The extra weight was comforting in a way that Will didn't have words to explain. Hannibal never seemed to mind if Will "accidentally" elbowed him in the ribs either.

Hannibal was constantly giving him smitten looks, seemingly happy to just stare at Will at any moment of the day. He often talked of a future together that Will politely ignored. He had no interest in dinner parties or activities like the opera. Though, Will found himself listening contently while Hannibal prattled on about plans for them together. A nice vacation where Hannibal could show off some of his favorite European spots in the spring, and a beach cottage for just the two of them in the summer.

It was nice to get better. Will had to remind himself of that fact time and time again. He was thrilled to shower without assistance, as he didn't think he could sit through another uncomfortable spongbath from Hannibal. The man got way to into it. The two times it had happened Will felt like Hannibal had scrubbed every part of his body. He still been half aware and out of it at that time, but now thinking back he'd wished he'd have swatted Hannibal away. It's not that Hannibal had touched him inappropriately, but Will still hated that it happened. His stalker being a fucking gentleman about it made him feel even worse.

It was also a step forward for Will to eat unrestricted again. He was a little afraid in the beginning that Hannibal would do something like not give him utensils and insist to spoon feeding Will everything. Granted for the first week when Will was still out of it and quite ill, that is exactly what happened. But then he'd moved on to coffee and more complex dishes that Hannibal seemed to take delight in telling him about. Will was pretty sure that Hannibal was lying about the types of meat that Will was being fed and tried not to think too much about that one. No one had said that the Chesapeake Ripper was a cannibal before, but Will couldn't help but make the leap.

This was the same Hannibal who would worry about Will going to the bathroom alone with his IV in. He'd had to been talked into it, like he was afraid that Will would die in there without even be able to yell for help. Hannibal had stood dutifully directly outside the bathroom for weeks until Will had been able to convince him that he'd be fine and if he didn't trust Will's voice to not give out then Will would be fine taking a bell with him. Hannibal had pouted at the loss of duty but had also relented. Will had begun to understand that Hannibal just liked to do things that made Will happy.

It was a strange thing to have to come to terms with. Hannibal was a serial killer. Hannibal had kidnapped him. Hannibal seemed to worship the floor Will stepped upon.  Hannibal made Will happy? Will was beginning to understand that there was something wrong with him beyond the sickness that had brought him and Hannibal together. They'd been together for nearly a month now and Will was having a hard time thinking about never seeing Hannibal again. He'd miss the man if he turned him in.

Will was beginning to hate the thoughts that he'd have to lose Hannibal to catch the Chesapeake Ripper.  Will mostly was just over being sick. Granted it was pretty reasonable to be over being sick, and that would be for most people who weren't kidnapped. He missed his dogs, he semi missed teaching, and he didn't really miss the FBI. (He didn't miss Jack Crawford one bit.) no matter what came out of this, Will's life had changed. Hannibal had changed him.

He did miss going outside and getting fresh air, though. Hannibal wouldn't let him out of the room without being there. That was reasonable since Will had been kidnapped. Will had been outside several times with Hannibal holding his hand and fretting about everything around him, but it wasn't the same. He wanted to fish or throw balls for his dogs. He wanted to take a long walk through the woods and stop to pick up every feather he found.

In the heat of summer Will wanted to try and convince Hannibal to skinny dip with him in the small lake on his property. He'd done it twice last summer when the heat wouldn't let up. Will couldn't help but wonder now if Hannibal had been watching in those moments. He'd never been one for swim trunks as it felt stupid to buy something that he'd use twice a year in front of no one when he could just be naked. Will couldn't help only wonder if that had a direct impact on him having a stalker to begin with.

They had taken to playing chess together for something to do. Will had known the rules to chess, but had never really put anything into practice. It was kind of nice now that his head wasn't splitting open. They talked over their games and it felt very friendly. He looked forward to a game every night and the one time he'd beaten Hannibal, the man had been so shocked he teared up.  Will had laughed at him then but also offer a hug that Hannibal had gladly taken him up on. (Later that night it occurred to Will that Hannibal might have planned it all out to get a comforting hug from him.)

Nothing was really a problem until it was time that Will felt that he could go home. He no longer needed the IV. He no longer needed the drugs, and he technically no longer needed Hannibal. He did not voice this because at the back of the mind he was still kind of worried that Hannibal wouldn't up and stab him. Hannibal had never actually gotten mad at him, during one conversation he had up and left Will locked into the room for 12 hours by himself. Will had not enjoyed that. He'd had food, drinks and everything he could have needed for those 12 hours, but had found he missed Hannibal dearly.

The relationship might be tipping into what could probably be considered Stockholm syndrome at this point. Perhaps that was what Hannibal was hoping for. Maybe he wanted Will to fall in love with him? Will was already feeling dependent on the man. Love wouldn't be out of the question.

Hannibal didn't argue against the fact that Will wanted to leave, even though that Will could tell that he wanted to. He suspected that Hannibal had known the entire time Will had been contemplating leaving him. Perhaps Hannibal had just been calmly ignoring all the signs and hoping that Will would never find the courage to bring it up.

All in all, Will didn't hate it there. Life was peaceful, and he had more company than he ever pictured having in life. He never pictured a relationship, and therefore had never pictured getting married. If the dogs were there with them, then his domestic life with Hannibal would have been near perfect. And it's not that he found Hannibal unattractive, anyone with eyes would be able to see that his stalker had the rich and attractive boxes checked off.

He never been as comfortable and taken care of as he was here. Will hadn't even known that life could be different than the one he'd been previously living. He still wants something more.

"Hannibal, I think it's time that I go back home." Will manage to say over their dinner together. They were having lamb chops, but it didn't really taste like lamb and given what Will had already figured out, he was pretty positive it was people. It didn't stop him from feeling hunger or eating Hannibal's cooking. In fact, he hadn't even really brought it up.

It was extremely strange and worrying to be able to realize that he didn't give a fuck that he was eating people meat. He has seen many psychologists and doctors before in his life, who all thought something was wrong with Will. He hadn't believed them. Except now, he'd be more willing to believe that there was something fucked up in his brain chemistry. It wasn't thrilling, or sexy, it was just fucking food.

Hannibal's face does go completely blank for a moment. Will expected him to show sadness or maybe even anger, but instead he gets nothing. For some reason it makes rage boil within Will. It's just somehow worse than any other reaction he'd thought he'd get. Will slams his hands down onto the table.

"Did you hear me? I'm going to leave you." Will let himself sneer cruelly. He knows now that Hannibal is in love with him. That this man wants him to stay and to be part of his life, friendship or otherwise.

Hannibal finally gets with the program and tenses as his body. He looks like an animal, getting ready to attack. Will's heart pounds, and for a single second he thinks he might've made a mistake. Hannibal doesn't disappoint him.

"You're mine now. There will be no leaving me, we are bound together. I saved your life and now you belong to me! You may return to work if you wish, but you will be staying in this house with me." Hannibal growls.

Will huffed out a sigh. He'd finally made Hannibal crack and say it. He'd been trying for that reaction for the better part of the last week.

He's been almost positive that this was going to be Hannibal's reaction all along, even as he first lay recovering from his illness. Stalkers didn't just let people go. With every passing day Will had found that he's less opposed. There's something peaceful about not having to deal with the outside world or people. If it's just Hannibal over and over again, then maybe his life would be better. Besides, nothing wrong with being a rich man's househusband. Hell, it might even be a technical step up in life for Will.

"Alright." Will starts very calmly. This is going to be much easier now that he has Hannibal's full attention. "If you want me to stay, then you're going to have to listen to my demands."

This very much catches Hannibal's attention. For the past week Will has been able to tell that Hannibal has been searching for a way to get him to stay. Well, for way longer than a week if Will was being honest. Fancier dinners, and then recipes that Will might've eaten as a southern child. Bringing in more books for Will to read without even being asked. Small things that Hannibal just paid extra attention to Will wanting.

"And what is it that you require?" Hannibal finally asks. He clearly had never thought that it would be this easy, and before Will had done some major thinking he would've agreed with that. Maybe the sickness had done something to his brain, maybe he was a changed man or maybe he just wanted what Hannibal was willing to offer.

"My dogs." Will says, and then smiles and leans back in his chair. "I miss them terribly. And if they can live here then I don't think I'd need anything else."

Hannibal blinks, like he is unable to understand. And maybe he doesn't, because truth be told Will doesn't much either.

"That is all you would ask for?" Hannibal quietly asks.

Will pauses for a moment and then stand up from his chair, circling around the table to be directly in front of Hannibal. He slowly reaches for it until he has both sides of Hannibal's cheeks squished into his grip.

"Well, I suppose I could think of a few more things I'd like to ask for." Is all he says before he leans down slightly and presses his lips to Hannibal's. "If you'd be amendable of course."

Hannibal drags him forward while pushing his own chair slightly back so that Will has no choice, but to be in his lap. And then he connects their lips together again. And again after that when Will pulls away to breathe.

"Yes." He says with a delighted gasp. "Yes!"

Chapter Text

Will married Hannibal the summer after they met. They'd been together at that point for 18 months, so it wasn't unreasonable. Not that Will ever really cared about what others would think or what would be a reasonable timeline for a romance. He just knew that he loved Hannibal and wanted to be with his obsessed stalker serial killer in every way possible. (And Hannibal had asked a total of 5 times before Will had agreed.)

The first time being just moment after their first kiss, when Will had agreed to stay with him. It hadn't been appropriate to even ask with how new everything was between them, but Will knew that if he'd said yes in that moment, they would have been married by the next week. Hannibal was always over enthusiastic with anything that had to do with Will and he preferred not waiting when he could get away with it.

Will had smacked him on the chest and complained he ruined the moment for even asking but had still let himself be drawn back into kissing. The was the day that he'd found out just how much he liked kissing Hannibal. His stalker, his kidnapper, his now lover.

The second time was when Will had accompanied Hannibal to an orchestra performance. He'd been invited and twice refused to go to the opera. Both times he'd looked up the performance and decided it wasn't for him, but Will had relented to it just being music. Not a play in a different language with high notes and loud singing. (He'd not voiced that to Hannibal as it seemed insulting to the opera productions, even in his head.)

Will had tucked himself close and/or held Hannibal's hand the entire night. It hadn't been a bad date over all, though Will certainly preferred hiking with Hannibal through dense woodland. He liked comfortably joking with Hannibal about good places to bury a body where it would never be found, compared to dealing with people crowds and socializing a crowd. Hannibal unfortunately had this kink where he wanted to show Will off to the world. Or to show the world that Will was his and only his at the very least.

The question; "Who is this?" Was asked over and over again that night. It felt draining to have to have nearly the same conversation so many times. Everyone wanted to know just who had finally captured Hannibal Lecter's attention. Will had hated it. He hated being the center of attention to a bunch of strangers and had tried not to show on his face that he would have rather waited at home in bed for Hannibal to get back. He doesn't think he succeeds in that, but Hannibal is always kind enough that he ignores Will being rude.

"I'm Will." He'd said politely. And then by the sixth time he'd just said; "I'm going to get another drink." He'd given Hannibal a lingering kiss on the cheek before slinking away. Will had had to pinch Hannibal in the ribs to get him to let go.

That had been a mistake because he'd only been swarmed with more curious people and this time without Hannibal by his side. Will had done his best to be polite and not rude, but he was also at the end of his rope. By the time he'd made it back to Hannibal, he was ready to leave early. He wasn't a people person and his social battery was beyond low.

"What do you think about ditching the rest of this after party?" It sounded like flirting, but really wasn't. Will just wanted to leave.

"What would you offer in return for such a rude act?" Hannibal had asked. Will had suspected he'd just say no, but to be fair he almost never refused what Will wanted.

"Anything you wanted." He'd thrown in a wink that he hoped the watching crowd thought of as sexy. Will hadn't felt sexy doing it, but Hannibal had given him a soft smile so he figured he might've passed.

Hannibal had hummed for a moment of contemplation. "Will you marry me?"

Will blinked and other people around them gasped. "Absolutely not." He'd answered and then stole the ticket for valet parking out of Hannibal's pocket. If Hannibal was going to be like that that, he could get a cab home.

The third time it felt much more natural. They'd been lying in bed after sex. Tired and happily sweaty together. Hannibal turned over and looked him in the eyes with a sly smile, offering marriage like that was a thing Will wanted. Will had smacked him repeatedly with a pillow until the pillow had open and the fancy duck feathers or whatever it had been stuffed with went everywhere. They'd both been laughing the entire time.

The forth time Will had been in his element, just coming back from a long run with all the dogs. He'd been wearing shorts that had becoming shorter in the wash every time Hannibal washed them. Will was currently ignoring the fact that he'd noticed because every time he wore them Hannibal just dropped everything and set upon him. He was almost positive that Hannibal was shrinking all his shorts in the wash on purpose, because Hannibal took extra care and proper steps with every thing he did. Will didn’t mind.

He'd come into the house, sweaty and appreciative of all the free time he now had since leaving the FBI. He was feeling good and was in better shape than he had been in years. Several people had told him he practically glows now that he's with Hannibal. He doesn't deny it either. There was something about leaving a stressful job that had definitely been killing him behind to spend his days doing whatever the fuck he felt like. Will would highly recommend to anyone with such an opportunity.

Upon entering the house Will had shouted his usually “Hey, I’m home!” and had gotten no response. That in itself was a curious thing because Hannibal usually couldn’t wait for them to reunite even if Will had only been gone a couple of hours. Will takes a second to think about how damaged his psyche clearly has become since meeting Hannibal, because without his usual greeting back smooches Will felt like his whole day was ruined. That might be a bit dramatic, but Will knew something was clearly wrong.

Hannibal had two people talking to him in the kitchen when Will had walked by for a drink. He'd saw the way Hannibal twitched when he realized others were seeing him in those short shorts. Will had practically giggled until he realized that the people Hannibal had been talking to were Alana and Jack. It had been months since he’d last seen either of them. Will’s heart pounded at the mere thought of being drug back into it all.

If there was anybody in the world that Will wasn't happy to see it was those two. Alana had congratulated him for leaving the FBI right up until she heard that he'd moved in with a significant other who insisted he didn't need to be working. Then it was a shit show between them where Will had to finally say that it didn't matter what Alana thought, his life had nothing to do with her. He’d thought them friends once, but had also known that she avoided being alone with him.

Jack Crawford had taken Will leaving badly. So much so that he threatened to investigate Will himself for being the Ripper and that's why he didn't want to help solve the case. A threat that wasn't insignificant considering just who Will had been falling in love with. Will had thought it a stupid threat that wouldn't be followed through. And now here they were, talking to Hannibal. Was this all his fault?

Will had just looked at Jack, then Alana and then Hannibal before backing out of the room. He couldn’t do this. If for someone reason they were there to confront Hannibal about crimes or other questionable deeds (kidnapping with intent to nurse back to health,) Will wants nothing to do with it. He also didn’t want to be questioned yet again about his sanity or mental health.

"Will?" He could hear Hannibal call out to him, but Will didn't stop. He left the house again and even though he'd just gotten back from a run, fled. It took him 2.5 more hours to get of the courage to return. He'd left that life behind and no longer wanted to see them, and was mad at Hannibal for even so much as letting them in. The only thing that made him return home was the fact that his mouth had long run dry and he didn’t even have his wallet with him.

Hannibal was sitting by the door when he got back, jolting and rushing to him immediately upon entry. Will felt bad. He often pretended that he didn't care what Hannibal thought, but in the end Will loved him. He hadn’t meant to make him worry or upset him, he just couldn’t be where Jack and Alana were. Maybe it had also been a bit of a punishment for letting other people Will didn’t really like into the sacred space of their home.

"I know letting them in upset you my love, but please don't leave like that again. I tried to find you and you were just gone." Hannibal says tearing up.

Will knows Hannibal was looking for him, because he'd been specifically avoiding him for at least the first hour. Will doesn't ask if Hannibal had just frantically ditched both Jack and Alana at the house, but he'd saw Hannibal driving around looking for him during his escape. How he'd gone unnoticed was a mystery to Will.

"They were in our house Hannibal." Will says and then bites his lip trying to think of how he could even explain himself. He's lucky because Hannibal simply catches his arm and pulls him forward into a hug.

"They will never be welcomed again my dear." Hannibal quietly offers. “Please don’t run away from me, I thought I’d lost you.”

Will doesn't ask why they had been there, simply because it doesn't matter to him. Hannibal tells him anyways. "Apparently some footage surfaced of when I saved your life. A person had hid and filmed it, and it came to the FBI because that person wanted to use to for bargaining."

Hannibal often refers to kidnapping Will as saving him. It doesn't really bother Will, especially not that so much time has passed. "So they were here to question you?"

"I believe it was technically a wellness check on you my beloved." Hannibal offers.

Will snorted. He was more well now than he had been in any of the years he worked for the FBI. "I don't want to talk to them."

"And so you shall not." Hannibal easily agrees. And then he pauses. "There would be less questions if we were married."

Will swats at Hannibal chest. "Don't ruin the moment." Will knew that he was going to marry Hannibal in the near future, but he wasn't going to agree when he stank from running and was so dehydrated that his tongue felt like leather in his mouth.

The fifth and finally time Hannibal proposed Will had obviously agreed. That's why they got married after all, because Will had agreed to the marriage. So what if it had been in bed and probably not serious at the time. If Hannibal hadn't wanted him to say suddenly agree then he should have asked or insinuated when they were having sex!